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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/311-0.txt b/311-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ebf4d10 --- /dev/null +++ b/311-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3911 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Bunner Sisters, by Edith Wharton + +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: Bunner Sisters + +Author: Edith Wharton + +Release Date: July 1, 2008 [EBook #311] +Last Updated: March 8, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BUNNER SISTERS *** + + + + +Produced by Judith Boss + + + + + +BUNNER SISTERS + +By Edith Wharton + +Scribner's Magazine 60 (Oct. 1916): 439-58; 60 (Nov. 1916): 575-96. + + + + +PART I + + + + +I + +In the days when New York's traffic moved at the pace of the drooping +horse-car, when society applauded Christine Nilsson at the Academy of +Music and basked in the sunsets of the Hudson River School on the walls +of the National Academy of Design, an inconspicuous shop with a +single show-window was intimately and favourably known to the feminine +population of the quarter bordering on Stuyvesant Square. + +It was a very small shop, in a shabby basement, in a side-street +already doomed to decline; and from the miscellaneous display behind the +window-pane, and the brevity of the sign surmounting it (merely “Bunner +Sisters” in blotchy gold on a black ground) it would have been difficult +for the uninitiated to guess the precise nature of the business carried +on within. But that was of little consequence, since its fame was so +purely local that the customers on whom its existence depended were +almost congenitally aware of the exact range of “goods” to be found at +Bunner Sisters'. + +The house of which Bunner Sisters had annexed the basement was a private +dwelling with a brick front, green shutters on weak hinges, and a +dress-maker's sign in the window above the shop. On each side of its +modest three stories stood higher buildings, with fronts of brown stone, +cracked and blistered, cast-iron balconies and cat-haunted grass-patches +behind twisted railings. These houses too had once been private, but now +a cheap lunchroom filled the basement of one, while the other announced +itself, above the knotty wistaria that clasped its central balcony, as +the Mendoza Family Hotel. It was obvious from the chronic cluster +of refuse-barrels at its area-gate and the blurred surface of its +curtainless windows, that the families frequenting the Mendoza Hotel +were not exacting in their tastes; though they doubtless indulged in +as much fastidiousness as they could afford to pay for, and rather more +than their landlord thought they had a right to express. + +These three houses fairly exemplified the general character of the +street, which, as it stretched eastward, rapidly fell from shabbiness to +squalor, with an increasing frequency of projecting sign-boards, and of +swinging doors that softly shut or opened at the touch of red-nosed men +and pale little girls with broken jugs. The middle of the street was +full of irregular depressions, well adapted to retain the long swirls of +dust and straw and twisted paper that the wind drove up and down its sad +untended length; and toward the end of the day, when traffic had been +active, the fissured pavement formed a mosaic of coloured hand-bills, +lids of tomato-cans, old shoes, cigar-stumps and banana skins, cemented +together by a layer of mud, or veiled in a powdering of dust, as the +state of the weather determined. + +The sole refuge offered from the contemplation of this depressing waste +was the sight of the Bunner Sisters' window. Its panes were always +well-washed, and though their display of artificial flowers, bands of +scalloped flannel, wire hat-frames, and jars of home-made preserves, had +the undefinable greyish tinge of objects long preserved in the show-case +of a museum, the window revealed a background of orderly counters and +white-washed walls in pleasant contrast to the adjoining dinginess. + +The Bunner sisters were proud of the neatness of their shop and content +with its humble prosperity. It was not what they had once imagined it +would be, but though it presented but a shrunken image of their earlier +ambitions it enabled them to pay their rent and keep themselves alive +and out of debt; and it was long since their hopes had soared higher. + +Now and then, however, among their greyer hours there came one not +bright enough to be called sunny, but rather of the silvery twilight hue +which sometimes ends a day of storm. It was such an hour that Ann Eliza, +the elder of the firm, was soberly enjoying as she sat one January +evening in the back room which served as bedroom, kitchen and parlour +to herself and her sister Evelina. In the shop the blinds had been drawn +down, the counters cleared and the wares in the window lightly covered +with an old sheet; but the shop-door remained unlocked till Evelina, who +had taken a parcel to the dyer's, should come back. + +In the back room a kettle bubbled on the stove, and Ann Eliza had laid a +cloth over one end of the centre table, and placed near the green-shaded +sewing lamp two tea-cups, two plates, a sugar-bowl and a piece of pie. +The rest of the room remained in a greenish shadow which discreetly +veiled the outline of an old-fashioned mahogany bedstead surmounted by a +chromo of a young lady in a night-gown who clung with eloquently-rolling +eyes to a crag described in illuminated letters as the Rock of Ages; +and against the unshaded windows two rocking-chairs and a sewing-machine +were silhouetted on the dusk. + +Ann Eliza, her small and habitually anxious face smoothed to unusual +serenity, and the streaks of pale hair on her veined temples shining +glossily beneath the lamp, had seated herself at the table, and was +tying up, with her usual fumbling deliberation, a knobby object wrapped +in paper. Now and then, as she struggled with the string, which was too +short, she fancied she heard the click of the shop-door, and paused +to listen for her sister; then, as no one came, she straightened her +spectacles and entered into renewed conflict with the parcel. In honour +of some event of obvious importance, she had put on her double-dyed and +triple-turned black silk. Age, while bestowing on this garment a patine +worthy of a Renaissance bronze, had deprived it of whatever curves the +wearer's pre-Raphaelite figure had once been able to impress on it; +but this stiffness of outline gave it an air of sacerdotal state which +seemed to emphasize the importance of the occasion. + +Seen thus, in her sacramental black silk, a wisp of lace turned over +the collar and fastened by a mosaic brooch, and her face smoothed into +harmony with her apparel, Ann Eliza looked ten years younger than behind +the counter, in the heat and burden of the day. It would have been as +difficult to guess her approximate age as that of the black silk, for +she had the same worn and glossy aspect as her dress; but a faint tinge +of pink still lingered on her cheek-bones, like the reflection of sunset +which sometimes colours the west long after the day is over. + +When she had tied the parcel to her satisfaction, and laid it with +furtive accuracy just opposite her sister's plate, she sat down, with an +air of obviously-assumed indifference, in one of the rocking-chairs near +the window; and a moment later the shop-door opened and Evelina entered. + +The younger Bunner sister, who was a little taller than her elder, had +a more pronounced nose, but a weaker slope of mouth and chin. She still +permitted herself the frivolity of waving her pale hair, and its +tight little ridges, stiff as the tresses of an Assyrian statue, +were flattened under a dotted veil which ended at the tip of her +cold-reddened nose. In her scant jacket and skirt of black cashmere she +looked singularly nipped and faded; but it seemed possible that under +happier conditions she might still warm into relative youth. + +“Why, Ann Eliza,” she exclaimed, in a thin voice pitched to chronic +fretfulness, “what in the world you got your best silk on for?” + +Ann Eliza had risen with a blush that made her steel-browed spectacles +incongruous. + +“Why, Evelina, why shouldn't I, I sh'ld like to know? Ain't it your +birthday, dear?” She put out her arms with the awkwardness of habitually +repressed emotion. + +Evelina, without seeming to notice the gesture, threw back the jacket +from her narrow shoulders. + +“Oh, pshaw,” she said, less peevishly. “I guess we'd better give up +birthdays. Much as we can do to keep Christmas nowadays.” + +“You hadn't oughter say that, Evelina. We ain't so badly off as all +that. I guess you're cold and tired. Set down while I take the kettle +off: it's right on the boil.” + +She pushed Evelina toward the table, keeping a sideward eye on her +sister's listless movements, while her own hands were busy with the +kettle. A moment later came the exclamation for which she waited. + +“Why, Ann Eliza!” Evelina stood transfixed by the sight of the parcel +beside her plate. + +Ann Eliza, tremulously engaged in filling the teapot, lifted a look of +hypocritical surprise. + +“Sakes, Evelina! What's the matter?” + +The younger sister had rapidly untied the string, and drawn from +its wrappings a round nickel clock of the kind to be bought for a +dollar-seventy-five. + +“Oh, Ann Eliza, how could you?” She set the clock down, and the sisters +exchanged agitated glances across the table. + +“Well,” the elder retorted, “AIN'T it your birthday?” + +“Yes, but--” + +“Well, and ain't you had to run round the corner to the Square every +morning, rain or shine, to see what time it was, ever since we had to +sell mother's watch last July? Ain't you, Evelina?” + +“Yes, but--” + +“There ain't any buts. We've always wanted a clock and now we've got +one: that's all there is about it. Ain't she a beauty, Evelina?” Ann +Eliza, putting back the kettle on the stove, leaned over her sister's +shoulder to pass an approving hand over the circular rim of the clock. +“Hear how loud she ticks. I was afraid you'd hear her soon as you come +in.” + +“No. I wasn't thinking,” murmured Evelina. + +“Well, ain't you glad now?” Ann Eliza gently reproached her. The rebuke +had no acerbity, for she knew that Evelina's seeming indifference was +alive with unexpressed scruples. + +“I'm real glad, sister; but you hadn't oughter. We could have got on +well enough without.” + +“Evelina Bunner, just you sit down to your tea. I guess I know what +I'd oughter and what I'd hadn't oughter just as well as you do--I'm old +enough!” + +“You're real good, Ann Eliza; but I know you've given up something you +needed to get me this clock.” + +“What do I need, I'd like to know? Ain't I got a best black silk?” the +elder sister said with a laugh full of nervous pleasure. + +She poured out Evelina's tea, adding some condensed milk from the jug, +and cutting for her the largest slice of pie; then she drew up her own +chair to the table. + +The two women ate in silence for a few moments before Evelina began to +speak again. “The clock is perfectly lovely and I don't say it ain't a +comfort to have it; but I hate to think what it must have cost you.” + +“No, it didn't, neither,” Ann Eliza retorted. “I got it dirt cheap, if +you want to know. And I paid for it out of a little extra work I did the +other night on the machine for Mrs. Hawkins.” + +“The baby-waists?” + +“Yes.” + +“There, I knew it! You swore to me you'd buy a new pair of shoes with +that money.” + +“Well, and s'posin' I didn't want 'em--what then? I've patched up the +old ones as good as new--and I do declare, Evelina Bunner, if you ask me +another question you'll go and spoil all my pleasure.” + +“Very well, I won't,” said the younger sister. + +They continued to eat without farther words. Evelina yielded to her +sister's entreaty that she should finish the pie, and poured out a +second cup of tea, into which she put the last lump of sugar; and +between them, on the table, the clock kept up its sociable tick. + +“Where'd you get it, Ann Eliza?” asked Evelina, fascinated. + +“Where'd you s'pose? Why, right round here, over acrost the Square, in +the queerest little store you ever laid eyes on. I saw it in the window +as I was passing, and I stepped right in and asked how much it was, and +the store-keeper he was real pleasant about it. He was just the nicest +man. I guess he's a German. I told him I couldn't give much, and he +said, well, he knew what hard times was too. His name's Ramy--Herman +Ramy: I saw it written up over the store. And he told me he used to work +at Tiff'ny's, oh, for years, in the clock-department, and three years +ago he took sick with some kinder fever, and lost his place, and when +he got well they'd engaged somebody else and didn't want him, and so he +started this little store by himself. I guess he's real smart, and he +spoke quite like an educated man--but he looks sick.” + +Evelina was listening with absorbed attention. In the narrow lives of +the two sisters such an episode was not to be under-rated. + +“What you say his name was?” she asked as Ann Eliza paused. + +“Herman Ramy.” + +“How old is he?” + +“Well, I couldn't exactly tell you, he looked so sick--but I don't +b'lieve he's much over forty.” + +By this time the plates had been cleared and the teapot emptied, and +the two sisters rose from the table. Ann Eliza, tying an apron over +her black silk, carefully removed all traces of the meal; then, after +washing the cups and plates, and putting them away in a cupboard, she +drew her rocking-chair to the lamp and sat down to a heap of mending. +Evelina, meanwhile, had been roaming about the room in search of +an abiding-place for the clock. A rosewood what-not with ornamental +fret-work hung on the wall beside the devout young lady in dishabille, +and after much weighing of alternatives the sisters decided to dethrone +a broken china vase filled with dried grasses which had long stood +on the top shelf, and to put the clock in its place; the vase, after +farther consideration, being relegated to a small table covered with +blue and white beadwork, which held a Bible and prayer-book, and an +illustrated copy of Longfellow's poems given as a school-prize to their +father. + +This change having been made, and the effect studied from every angle +of the room, Evelina languidly put her pinking-machine on the table, +and sat down to the monotonous work of pinking a heap of black silk +flounces. The strips of stuff slid slowly to the floor at her side, and +the clock, from its commanding altitude, kept time with the dispiriting +click of the instrument under her fingers. + + + + +II + + +The purchase of Evelina's clock had been a more important event in the +life of Ann Eliza Bunner than her younger sister could divine. In the +first place, there had been the demoralizing satisfaction of finding +herself in possession of a sum of money which she need not put into the +common fund, but could spend as she chose, without consulting Evelina, +and then the excitement of her stealthy trips abroad, undertaken on the +rare occasions when she could trump up a pretext for leaving the shop; +since, as a rule, it was Evelina who took the bundles to the dyer's, +and delivered the purchases of those among their customers who were too +genteel to be seen carrying home a bonnet or a bundle of pinking--so +that, had it not been for the excuse of having to see Mrs. Hawkins's +teething baby, Ann Eliza would hardly have known what motive to allege +for deserting her usual seat behind the counter. + +The infrequency of her walks made them the chief events of her life. +The mere act of going out from the monastic quiet of the shop into the +tumult of the streets filled her with a subdued excitement which grew +too intense for pleasure as she was swallowed by the engulfing roar +of Broadway or Third Avenue, and began to do timid battle with their +incessant cross-currents of humanity. After a glance or two into the +great show-windows she usually allowed herself to be swept back into the +shelter of a side-street, and finally regained her own roof in a state +of breathless bewilderment and fatigue; but gradually, as her nerves +were soothed by the familiar quiet of the little shop, and the click +of Evelina's pinking-machine, certain sights and sounds would detach +themselves from the torrent along which she had been swept, and she +would devote the rest of the day to a mental reconstruction of the +different episodes of her walk, till finally it took shape in her +thought as a consecutive and highly-coloured experience, from which, for +weeks afterwards, she would detach some fragmentary recollection in the +course of her long dialogues with her sister. + +But when, to the unwonted excitement of going out, was added the +intenser interest of looking for a present for Evelina, Ann Eliza's +agitation, sharpened by concealment, actually preyed upon her rest; +and it was not till the present had been given, and she had unbosomed +herself of the experiences connected with its purchase, that she could +look back with anything like composure to that stirring moment of +her life. From that day forward, however, she began to take a certain +tranquil pleasure in thinking of Mr. Ramy's small shop, not unlike her +own in its countrified obscurity, though the layer of dust which +covered its counter and shelves made the comparison only superficially +acceptable. Still, she did not judge the state of the shop severely, for +Mr. Ramy had told her that he was alone in the world, and lone men, she +was aware, did not know how to deal with dust. It gave her a good deal +of occupation to wonder why he had never married, or if, on the other +hand, he were a widower, and had lost all his dear little children; +and she scarcely knew which alternative seemed to make him the more +interesting. In either case, his life was assuredly a sad one; and she +passed many hours in speculating on the manner in which he probably +spent his evenings. She knew he lived at the back of his shop, for she +had caught, on entering, a glimpse of a dingy room with a tumbled bed; +and the pervading smell of cold fry suggested that he probably did his +own cooking. She wondered if he did not often make his tea with water +that had not boiled, and asked herself, almost jealously, who looked +after the shop while he went to market. Then it occurred to her as +likely that he bought his provisions at the same market as Evelina; +and she was fascinated by the thought that he and her sister might +constantly be meeting in total unconsciousness of the link between them. +Whenever she reached this stage in her reflexions she lifted a furtive +glance to the clock, whose loud staccato tick was becoming a part of her +inmost being. + +The seed sown by these long hours of meditation germinated at last in +the secret wish to go to market some morning in Evelina's stead. As +this purpose rose to the surface of Ann Eliza's thoughts she shrank back +shyly from its contemplation. A plan so steeped in duplicity had never +before taken shape in her crystalline soul. How was it possible for her +to consider such a step? And, besides, (she did not possess sufficient +logic to mark the downward trend of this “besides”), what excuse could +she make that would not excite her sister's curiosity? From this second +query it was an easy descent to the third: how soon could she manage to +go? + +It was Evelina herself, who furnished the necessary pretext by awaking +with a sore throat on the day when she usually went to market. It was +a Saturday, and as they always had their bit of steak on Sunday the +expedition could not be postponed, and it seemed natural that Ann Eliza, +as she tied an old stocking around Evelina's throat, should announce her +intention of stepping round to the butcher's. + +“Oh, Ann Eliza, they'll cheat you so,” her sister wailed. + +Ann Eliza brushed aside the imputation with a smile, and a few minutes +later, having set the room to rights, and cast a last glance at the +shop, she was tying on her bonnet with fumbling haste. + +The morning was damp and cold, with a sky full of sulky clouds that +would not make room for the sun, but as yet dropped only an occasional +snow-flake. In the early light the street looked its meanest and most +neglected; but to Ann Eliza, never greatly troubled by any untidiness +for which she was not responsible, it seemed to wear a singularly +friendly aspect. + +A few minutes' walk brought her to the market where Evelina made her +purchases, and where, if he had any sense of topographical fitness, Mr. +Ramy must also deal. + +Ann Eliza, making her way through the outskirts of potato-barrels and +flabby fish, found no one in the shop but the gory-aproned butcher who +stood in the background cutting chops. + +As she approached him across the tesselation of fish-scales, blood and +saw-dust, he laid aside his cleaver and not unsympathetically asked: +“Sister sick?” + +“Oh, not very--jest a cold,” she answered, as guiltily as if Evelina's +illness had been feigned. “We want a steak as usual, please--and my +sister said you was to be sure to give me jest as good a cut as if it +was her,” she added with child-like candour. + +“Oh, that's all right.” The butcher picked up his weapon with a grin. +“Your sister knows a cut as well as any of us,” he remarked. + +In another moment, Ann Eliza reflected, the steak would be cut and +wrapped up, and no choice left her but to turn her disappointed steps +toward home. She was too shy to try to delay the butcher by such +conversational arts as she possessed, but the approach of a deaf old +lady in an antiquated bonnet and mantle gave her her opportunity. + +“Wait on her first, please,” Ann Eliza whispered. “I ain't in any +hurry.” + +The butcher advanced to his new customer, and Ann Eliza, palpitating in +the back of the shop, saw that the old lady's hesitations between liver +and pork chops were likely to be indefinitely prolonged. They were still +unresolved when she was interrupted by the entrance of a blowsy +Irish girl with a basket on her arm. The newcomer caused a momentary +diversion, and when she had departed the old lady, who was evidently as +intolerant of interruption as a professional story-teller, insisted on +returning to the beginning of her complicated order, and weighing +anew, with an anxious appeal to the butcher's arbitration, the relative +advantages of pork and liver. But even her hesitations, and the +intrusion on them of two or three other customers, were of no avail, +for Mr. Ramy was not among those who entered the shop; and at last Ann +Eliza, ashamed of staying longer, reluctantly claimed her steak, and +walked home through the thickening snow. + +Even to her simple judgment the vanity of her hopes was plain, and in +the clear light that disappointment turns upon our actions she wondered +how she could have been foolish enough to suppose that, even if Mr. Ramy +<i>did</i> go to that particular market, he would hit on the same day and hour +as herself. + + +There followed a colourless week unmarked by farther incident. The old +stocking cured Evelina's throat, and Mrs. Hawkins dropped in once or +twice to talk of her baby's teeth; some new orders for pinking were +received, and Evelina sold a bonnet to the lady with puffed sleeves. The +lady with puffed sleeves--a resident of “the Square,” whose name they +had never learned, because she always carried her own parcels home--was +the most distinguished and interesting figure on their horizon. She was +youngish, she was elegant (as the title they had given her implied), and +she had a sweet sad smile about which they had woven many histories; but +even the news of her return to town--it was her first apparition +that year--failed to arouse Ann Eliza's interest. All the small daily +happenings which had once sufficed to fill the hours now appeared to her +in their deadly insignificance; and for the first time in her long years +of drudgery she rebelled at the dullness of her life. With Evelina such +fits of discontent were habitual and openly proclaimed, and Ann Eliza +still excused them as one of the prerogatives of youth. Besides, Evelina +had not been intended by Providence to pine in such a narrow life: in +the original plan of things, she had been meant to marry and have a +baby, to wear silk on Sundays, and take a leading part in a Church +circle. Hitherto opportunity had played her false; and for all her +superior aspirations and carefully crimped hair she had remained as +obscure and unsought as Ann Eliza. But the elder sister, who had long +since accepted her own fate, had never accepted Evelina's. Once a +pleasant young man who taught in Sunday-school had paid the younger +Miss Bunner a few shy visits. That was years since, and he had speedily +vanished from their view. Whether he had carried with him any of +Evelina's illusions, Ann Eliza had never discovered; but his attentions +had clad her sister in a halo of exquisite possibilities. + +Ann Eliza, in those days, had never dreamed of allowing herself the +luxury of self-pity: it seemed as much a personal right of Evelina's as +her elaborately crinkled hair. But now she began to transfer to herself +a portion of the sympathy she had so long bestowed on Evelina. She had +at last recognized her right to set up some lost opportunities of her +own; and once that dangerous precedent established, they began to crowd +upon her memory. + +It was at this stage of Ann Eliza's transformation that Evelina, looking +up one evening from her work, said suddenly: “My! She's stopped.” + +Ann Eliza, raising her eyes from a brown merino seam, followed her +sister's glance across the room. It was a Monday, and they always wound +the clock on Sundays. + +“Are you sure you wound her yesterday, Evelina?” + +“Jest as sure as I live. She must be broke. I'll go and see.” + +Evelina laid down the hat she was trimming, and took the clock from its +shelf. + +“There--I knew it! She's wound jest as TIGHT--what you suppose's +happened to her, Ann Eliza?” + +“I dunno, I'm sure,” said the elder sister, wiping her spectacles before +proceeding to a close examination of the clock. + +With anxiously bent heads the two women shook and turned it, as though +they were trying to revive a living thing; but it remained unresponsive +to their touch, and at length Evelina laid it down with a sigh. + +“Seems like somethin' DEAD, don't it, Ann Eliza? How still the room is!” + +“Yes, ain't it?” + +“Well, I'll put her back where she belongs,” Evelina continued, in the +tone of one about to perform the last offices for the departed. “And I +guess,” she added, “you'll have to step round to Mr. Ramy's to-morrow, +and see if he can fix her.” + +Ann Eliza's face burned. “I--yes, I guess I'll have to,” she stammered, +stooping to pick up a spool of cotton which had rolled to the floor. A +sudden heart-throb stretched the seams of her flat alpaca bosom, and a +pulse leapt to life in each of her temples. + +That night, long after Evelina slept, Ann Eliza lay awake in the +unfamiliar silence, more acutely conscious of the nearness of the +crippled clock than when it had volubly told out the minutes. The next +morning she woke from a troubled dream of having carried it to Mr. +Ramy's, and found that he and his shop had vanished; and all through the +day's occupations the memory of this dream oppressed her. + +It had been agreed that Ann Eliza should take the clock to be repaired +as soon as they had dined; but while they were still at table a +weak-eyed little girl in a black apron stabbed with innumerable pins +burst in on them with the cry: “Oh, Miss Bunner, for mercy's sake! Miss +Mellins has been took again.” + +Miss Mellins was the dress-maker upstairs, and the weak-eyed child one +of her youthful apprentices. + +Ann Eliza started from her seat. “I'll come at once. Quick, Evelina, the +cordial!” + +By this euphemistic name the sisters designated a bottle of cherry +brandy, the last of a dozen inherited from their grandmother, which they +kept locked in their cupboard against such emergencies. A moment later, +cordial in hand, Ann Eliza was hurrying upstairs behind the weak-eyed +child. + +Miss Mellins' “turn” was sufficiently serious to detain Ann Eliza for +nearly two hours, and dusk had fallen when she took up the depleted +bottle of cordial and descended again to the shop. It was empty, as +usual, and Evelina sat at her pinking-machine in the back room. Ann +Eliza was still agitated by her efforts to restore the dress-maker, but +in spite of her preoccupation she was struck, as soon as she entered, by +the loud tick of the clock, which still stood on the shelf where she had +left it. + +“Why, she's going!” she gasped, before Evelina could question her about +Miss Mellins. “Did she start up again by herself?” + +“Oh, no; but I couldn't stand not knowing what time it was, I've got so +accustomed to having her round; and just after you went upstairs Mrs. +Hawkins dropped in, so I asked her to tend the store for a minute, and +I clapped on my things and ran right round to Mr. Ramy's. It turned out +there wasn't anything the matter with her--nothin' on'y a speck of dust +in the works--and he fixed her for me in a minute and I brought her +right back. Ain't it lovely to hear her going again? But tell me about +Miss Mellins, quick!” + +For a moment Ann Eliza found no words. Not till she learned that she had +missed her chance did she understand how many hopes had hung upon +it. Even now she did not know why she had wanted so much to see the +clock-maker again. + +“I s'pose it's because nothing's ever happened to me,” she thought, with +a twinge of envy for the fate which gave Evelina every opportunity +that came their way. “She had the Sunday-school teacher too,” Ann +Eliza murmured to herself; but she was well-trained in the arts of +renunciation, and after a scarcely perceptible pause she plunged into a +detailed description of the dress-maker's “turn.” + +Evelina, when her curiosity was roused, was an insatiable questioner, +and it was supper-time before she had come to the end of her enquiries +about Miss Mellins; but when the two sisters had seated themselves at +their evening meal Ann Eliza at last found a chance to say: “So she on'y +had a speck of dust in her.” + +Evelina understood at once that the reference was not to Miss Mellins. +“Yes--at least he thinks so,” she answered, helping herself as a matter +of course to the first cup of tea. + +“On'y to think!” murmured Ann Eliza. + +“But he isn't SURE,” Evelina continued, absently pushing the teapot +toward her sister. “It may be something wrong with the--I forget what he +called it. Anyhow, he said he'd call round and see, day after to-morrow, +after supper.” + +“Who said?” gasped Ann Eliza. + +“Why, Mr. Ramy, of course. I think he's real nice, Ann Eliza. And I +don't believe he's forty; but he DOES look sick. I guess he's pretty +lonesome, all by himself in that store. He as much as told me so, and +somehow”--Evelina paused and bridled--“I kinder thought that maybe his +saying he'd call round about the clock was on'y just an excuse. He said +it just as I was going out of the store. What you think, Ann Eliza?” + +“Oh, I don't har'ly know.” To save herself, Ann Eliza could produce +nothing warmer. + +“Well, I don't pretend to be smarter than other folks,” said Evelina, +putting a conscious hand to her hair, “but I guess Mr. Herman Ramy +wouldn't be sorry to pass an evening here, 'stead of spending it all +alone in that poky little place of his.” + +Her self-consciousness irritated Ann Eliza. + +“I guess he's got plenty of friends of his own,” she said, almost +harshly. + +“No, he ain't, either. He's got hardly any.” + +“Did he tell you that too?” Even to her own ears there was a faint sneer +in the interrogation. + +“Yes, he did,” said Evelina, dropping her lids with a smile. “He seemed +to be just crazy to talk to somebody--somebody agreeable, I mean. I +think the man's unhappy, Ann Eliza.” + +“So do I,” broke from the elder sister. + +“He seems such an educated man, too. He was reading the paper when +I went in. Ain't it sad to think of his being reduced to that little +store, after being years at Tiff'ny's, and one of the head men in their +clock-department?” + +“He told you all that?” + +“Why, yes. I think he'd a' told me everything ever happened to him if +I'd had the time to stay and listen. I tell you he's dead lonely, Ann +Eliza.” + +“Yes,” said Ann Eliza. + + + + +III + + +Two days afterward, Ann Eliza noticed that Evelina, before they sat down +to supper, pinned a crimson bow under her collar; and when the meal +was finished the younger sister, who seldom concerned herself with the +clearing of the table, set about with nervous haste to help Ann Eliza in +the removal of the dishes. + +“I hate to see food mussing about,” she grumbled. “Ain't it hateful +having to do everything in one room?” + +“Oh, Evelina, I've always thought we was so comfortable,” Ann Eliza +protested. + +“Well, so we are, comfortable enough; but I don't suppose there's any +harm in my saying I wisht we had a parlour, is there? Anyway, we might +manage to buy a screen to hide the bed.” + +Ann Eliza coloured. There was something vaguely embarrassing in +Evelina's suggestion. + +“I always think if we ask for more what we have may be taken from us,” + she ventured. + +“Well, whoever took it wouldn't get much,” Evelina retorted with a laugh +as she swept up the table-cloth. + +A few moments later the back room was in its usual flawless order and +the two sisters had seated themselves near the lamp. Ann Eliza had taken +up her sewing, and Evelina was preparing to make artificial flowers. +The sisters usually relegated this more delicate business to the long +leisure of the summer months; but to-night Evelina had brought out the +box which lay all winter under the bed, and spread before her a bright +array of muslin petals, yellow stamens and green corollas, and a tray of +little implements curiously suggestive of the dental art. Ann Eliza made +no remark on this unusual proceeding; perhaps she guessed why, for that +evening her sister had chosen a graceful task. + +Presently a knock on the outer door made them look up; but Evelina, the +first on her feet, said promptly: “Sit still. I'll see who it is.” + +Ann Eliza was glad to sit still: the baby's petticoat that she was +stitching shook in her fingers. + +“Sister, here's Mr. Ramy come to look at the clock,” said Evelina, a +moment later, in the high drawl she cultivated before strangers; and +a shortish man with a pale bearded face and upturned coat-collar came +stiffly into the room. + +Ann Eliza let her work fall as she stood up. “You're very welcome, I'm +sure, Mr. Ramy. It's real kind of you to call.” + +“Nod ad all, ma'am.” A tendency to illustrate Grimm's law in the +interchange of his consonants betrayed the clockmaker's nationality, but +he was evidently used to speaking English, or at least the particular +branch of the vernacular with which the Bunner sisters were familiar. +“I don't like to led any clock go out of my store without being sure it +gives satisfaction,” he added. + +“Oh--but we were satisfied,” Ann Eliza assured him. + +“But I wasn't, you see, ma'am,” said Mr. Ramy looking slowly about the +room, “nor I won't be, not till I see that clock's going all right.” + +“May I assist you off with your coat, Mr. Ramy?” Evelina interposed. She +could never trust Ann Eliza to remember these opening ceremonies. + +“Thank you, ma'am,” he replied, and taking his thread-bare over-coat and +shabby hat she laid them on a chair with the gesture she imagined the +lady with the puffed sleeves might make use of on similar occasions. +Ann Eliza's social sense was roused, and she felt that the next act +of hospitality must be hers. “Won't you suit yourself to a seat?” she +suggested. “My sister will reach down the clock; but I'm sure she's all +right again. She's went beautiful ever since you fixed her.” + +“Dat's good,” said Mr. Ramy. His lips parted in a smile which showed a +row of yellowish teeth with one or two gaps in it; but in spite of this +disclosure Ann Eliza thought his smile extremely pleasant: there was +something wistful and conciliating in it which agreed with the pathos +of his sunken cheeks and prominent eyes. As he took the lamp, the light +fell on his bulging forehead and wide skull thinly covered with grayish +hair. His hands were pale and broad, with knotty joints and square +finger-tips rimmed with grime; but his touch was as light as a woman's. + +“Well, ladies, dat clock's all right,” he pronounced. + +“I'm sure we're very much obliged to you,” said Evelina, throwing a +glance at her sister. + +“Oh,” Ann Eliza murmured, involuntarily answering the admonition. +She selected a key from the bunch that hung at her waist with her +cutting-out scissors, and fitting it into the lock of the cupboard, +brought out the cherry brandy and three old-fashioned glasses engraved +with vine-wreaths. + +“It's a very cold night,” she said, “and maybe you'd like a sip of this +cordial. It was made a great while ago by our grandmother.” + +“It looks fine,” said Mr. Ramy bowing, and Ann Eliza filled the glasses. +In her own and Evelina's she poured only a few drops, but she filled +their guest's to the brim. “My sister and I seldom take wine,” she +explained. + +With another bow, which included both his hostesses, Mr. Ramy drank off +the cherry brandy and pronounced it excellent. + +Evelina meanwhile, with an assumption of industry intended to put +their guest at ease, had taken up her instruments and was twisting a +rose-petal into shape. + +“You make artificial flowers, I see, ma'am,” said Mr. Ramy with +interest. “It's very pretty work. I had a lady-vriend in Shermany dat +used to make flowers.” He put out a square finger-tip to touch the +petal. + +Evelina blushed a little. “You left Germany long ago, I suppose?” + +“Dear me yes, a goot while ago. I was only ninedeen when I come to the +States.” + +After this the conversation dragged on intermittently till Mr. Ramy, +peering about the room with the short-sighted glance of his race, said +with an air of interest: “You're pleasantly fixed here; it looks real +cosy.” The note of wistfulness in his voice was obscurely moving to Ann +Eliza. + +“Oh, we live very plainly,” said Evelina, with an affectation of +grandeur deeply impressive to her sister. “We have very simple tastes.” + +“You look real comfortable, anyhow,” said Mr. Ramy. His bulging eyes +seemed to muster the details of the scene with a gentle envy. “I wisht +I had as good a store; but I guess no blace seems home-like when you're +always alone in it.” + +For some minutes longer the conversation moved on at this desultory +pace, and then Mr. Ramy, who had been obviously nerving himself for +the difficult act of departure, took his leave with an abruptness +which would have startled anyone used to the subtler gradations +of intercourse. But to Ann Eliza and her sister there was nothing +surprising in his abrupt retreat. The long-drawn agonies of preparing to +leave, and the subsequent dumb plunge through the door, were so usual in +their circle that they would have been as much embarrassed as Mr. Ramy +if he had tried to put any fluency into his adieux. + +After he had left both sisters remained silent for a while; then +Evelina, laying aside her unfinished flower, said: “I'll go and lock +up.” + + + + +IV + + +Intolerably monotonous seemed now to the Bunner sisters the treadmill +routine of the shop, colourless and long their evenings about the lamp, +aimless their habitual interchange of words to the weary accompaniment +of the sewing and pinking machines. + +It was perhaps with the idea of relieving the tension of their mood +that Evelina, the following Sunday, suggested inviting Miss Mellins to +supper. The Bunner sisters were not in a position to be lavish of the +humblest hospitality, but two or three times in the year they shared +their evening meal with a friend; and Miss Mellins, still flushed with +the importance of her “turn,” seemed the most interesting guest they +could invite. + +As the three women seated themselves at the supper-table, embellished by +the unwonted addition of pound cake and sweet pickles, the dress-maker's +sharp swarthy person stood out vividly between the neutral-tinted +sisters. Miss Mellins was a small woman with a glossy yellow face and +a frizz of black hair bristling with imitation tortoise-shell pins. Her +sleeves had a fashionable cut, and half a dozen metal bangles rattled +on her wrists. Her voice rattled like her bangles as she poured forth a +stream of anecdote and ejaculation; and her round black eyes jumped with +acrobatic velocity from one face to another. Miss Mellins was always +having or hearing of amazing adventures. She had surprised a burglar in +her room at midnight (though how he got there, what he robbed her +of, and by what means he escaped had never been quite clear to her +auditors); she had been warned by anonymous letters that her grocer (a +rejected suitor) was putting poison in her tea; she had a customer who +was shadowed by detectives, and another (a very wealthy lady) who +had been arrested in a department store for kleptomania; she had been +present at a spiritualist seance where an old gentleman had died in a +fit on seeing a materialization of his mother-in-law; she had escaped +from two fires in her night-gown, and at the funeral of her first cousin +the horses attached to the hearse had run away and smashed the coffin, +precipitating her relative into an open man-hole before the eyes of his +distracted family. + +A sceptical observer might have explained Miss Mellins's proneness to +adventure by the fact that she derived her chief mental nourishment from +the Police Gazette and the Fireside Weekly; but her lot was cast in a +circle where such insinuations were not likely to be heard, and where +the title-role in blood-curdling drama had long been her recognized +right. + +“Yes,” she was now saying, her emphatic eyes on Ann Eliza, “you may not +believe it, Miss Bunner, and I don't know's I should myself if anybody +else was to tell me, but over a year before ever I was born, my mother +she went to see a gypsy fortune-teller that was exhibited in a tent on +the Battery with the green-headed lady, though her father warned her +not to--and what you s'pose she told her? Why, she told her these very +words--says she: 'Your next child'll be a girl with jet-black curls, and +she'll suffer from spasms.'” + +“Mercy!” murmured Ann Eliza, a ripple of sympathy running down her +spine. + +“D'you ever have spasms before, Miss Mellins?” Evelina asked. + +“Yes, ma'am,” the dress-maker declared. “And where'd you suppose I had +'em? Why, at my cousin Emma McIntyre's wedding, her that married the +apothecary over in Jersey City, though her mother appeared to her in a +dream and told her she'd rue the day she done it, but as Emma said, +she got more advice than she wanted from the living, and if she was to +listen to spectres too she'd never be sure what she'd ought to do and +what she'd oughtn't; but I will say her husband took to drink, and she +never was the same woman after her fust baby--well, they had an elegant +church wedding, and what you s'pose I saw as I was walkin' up the aisle +with the wedding percession?” + +“Well?” Ann Eliza whispered, forgetting to thread her needle. + +“Why, a coffin, to be sure, right on the top step of the chancel--Emma's +folks is 'piscopalians and she would have a church wedding, though HIS +mother raised a terrible rumpus over it--well, there it set, right in +front of where the minister stood that was going to marry 'em, a coffin +covered with a black velvet pall with a gold fringe, and a 'Gates Ajar' +in white camellias atop of it.” + +“Goodness,” said Evelina, starting, “there's a knock!” + +“Who can it be?” shuddered Ann Eliza, still under the spell of Miss +Mellins's hallucination. + +Evelina rose and lit a candle to guide her through the shop. They heard +her turn the key of the outer door, and a gust of night air stirred the +close atmosphere of the back room; then there was a sound of vivacious +exclamations, and Evelina returned with Mr. Ramy. + +Ann Eliza's heart rocked like a boat in a heavy sea, and the +dress-maker's eyes, distended with curiosity, sprang eagerly from face +to face. + +“I just thought I'd call in again,” said Mr. Ramy, evidently somewhat +disconcerted by the presence of Miss Mellins. “Just to see how the +clock's behaving,” he added with his hollow-cheeked smile. + +“Oh, she's behaving beautiful,” said Ann Eliza; “but we're real glad to +see you all the same. Miss Mellins, let me make you acquainted with Mr. +Ramy.” + +The dress-maker tossed back her head and dropped her lids in +condescending recognition of the stranger's presence; and Mr. Ramy +responded by an awkward bow. After the first moment of constraint a +renewed sense of satisfaction filled the consciousness of the three +women. The Bunner sisters were not sorry to let Miss Mellins see that +they received an occasional evening visit, and Miss Mellins was clearly +enchanted at the opportunity of pouring her latest tale into a new ear. +As for Mr. Ramy, he adjusted himself to the situation with greater ease +than might have been expected, and Evelina, who had been sorry that he +should enter the room while the remains of supper still lingered on +the table, blushed with pleasure at his good-humored offer to help her +“glear away.” + +The table cleared, Ann Eliza suggested a game of cards; and it was after +eleven o'clock when Mr. Ramy rose to take leave. His adieux were so much +less abrupt than on the occasion of his first visit that Evelina was +able to satisfy her sense of etiquette by escorting him, candle in hand, +to the outer door; and as the two disappeared into the shop Miss Mellins +playfully turned to Ann Eliza. + +“Well, well, Miss Bunner,” she murmured, jerking her chin in the +direction of the retreating figures, “I'd no idea your sister was +keeping company. On'y to think!” + +Ann Eliza, roused from a state of dreamy beatitude, turned her timid +eyes on the dress-maker. + +“Oh, you're mistaken, Miss Mellins. We don't har'ly know Mr. Ramy.” + +Miss Mellins smiled incredulously. “You go 'long, Miss Bunner. I guess +there'll be a wedding somewheres round here before spring, and I'll be +real offended if I ain't asked to make the dress. I've always seen her +in a gored satin with rooshings.” + +Ann Eliza made no answer. She had grown very pale, and her eyes lingered +searchingly on Evelina as the younger sister re-entered the room. +Evelina's cheeks were pink, and her blue eyes glittered; but it seemed +to Ann Eliza that the coquettish tilt of her head regrettably emphasized +the weakness of her receding chin. It was the first time that Ann +Eliza had ever seen a flaw in her sister's beauty, and her involuntary +criticism startled her like a secret disloyalty. + +That night, after the light had been put out, the elder sister knelt +longer than usual at her prayers. In the silence of the darkened +room she was offering up certain dreams and aspirations whose brief +blossoming had lent a transient freshness to her days. She wondered +now how she could ever have supposed that Mr. Ramy's visits had another +cause than the one Miss Mellins suggested. Had not the sight of Evelina +first inspired him with a sudden solicitude for the welfare of the +clock? And what charms but Evelina's could have induced him to repeat +his visit? Grief held up its torch to the frail fabric of Ann Eliza's +illusions, and with a firm heart she watched them shrivel into ashes; +then, rising from her knees full of the chill joy of renunciation, she +laid a kiss on the crimping pins of the sleeping Evelina and crept under +the bedspread at her side. + + + + +V + + +During the months that followed, Mr. Ramy visited the sisters with +increasing frequency. It became his habit to call on them every Sunday +evening, and occasionally during the week he would find an excuse for +dropping in unannounced as they were settling down to their work beside +the lamp. Ann Eliza noticed that Evelina now took the precaution of +putting on her crimson bow every evening before supper, and that she +had refurbished with a bit of carefully washed lace the black silk +which they still called new because it had been bought a year after Ann +Eliza's. + +Mr. Ramy, as he grew more intimate, became less conversational, and +after the sisters had blushingly accorded him the privilege of a pipe he +began to permit himself long stretches of meditative silence that +were not without charm to his hostesses. There was something at once +fortifying and pacific in the sense of that tranquil male presence in +an atmosphere which had so long quivered with little feminine doubts and +distresses; and the sisters fell into the habit of saying to each other, +in moments of uncertainty: “We'll ask Mr. Ramy when he comes,” and of +accepting his verdict, whatever it might be, with a fatalistic readiness +that relieved them of all responsibility. + +When Mr. Ramy drew the pipe from his mouth and became, in his turn, +confidential, the acuteness of their sympathy grew almost painful to the +sisters. With passionate participation they listened to the story of his +early struggles in Germany, and of the long illness which had been the +cause of his recent misfortunes. The name of the Mrs. Hochmuller (an old +comrade's widow) who had nursed him through his fever was greeted with +reverential sighs and an inward pang of envy whenever it recurred in his +biographical monologues, and once when the sisters were alone Evelina +called a responsive flush to Ann Eliza's brow by saying suddenly, +without the mention of any name: “I wonder what she's like?” + +One day toward spring Mr. Ramy, who had by this time become as much a +part of their lives as the letter-carrier or the milkman, ventured the +suggestion that the ladies should accompany him to an exhibition of +stereopticon views which was to take place at Chickering Hall on the +following evening. + +After their first breathless “Oh!” of pleasure there was a silence +of mutual consultation, which Ann Eliza at last broke by saying: “You +better go with Mr. Ramy, Evelina. I guess we don't both want to leave +the store at night.” + +Evelina, with such protests as politeness demanded, acquiesced in this +opinion, and spent the next day in trimming a white chip bonnet with +forget-me-nots of her own making. Ann Eliza brought out her mosaic +brooch, a cashmere scarf of their mother's was taken from its linen +cerements, and thus adorned Evelina blushingly departed with Mr. Ramy, +while the elder sister sat down in her place at the pinking-machine. + +It seemed to Ann Eliza that she was alone for hours, and she was +surprised, when she heard Evelina tap on the door, to find that the +clock marked only half-past ten. + +“It must have gone wrong again,” she reflected as she rose to let her +sister in. + +The evening had been brilliantly interesting, and several striking +stereopticon views of Berlin had afforded Mr. Ramy the opportunity of +enlarging on the marvels of his native city. + +“He said he'd love to show it all to me!” Evelina declared as Ann Eliza +conned her glowing face. “Did you ever hear anything so silly? I didn't +know which way to look.” + +Ann Eliza received this confidence with a sympathetic murmur. + +“My bonnet IS becoming, isn't it?” Evelina went on irrelevantly, smiling +at her reflection in the cracked glass above the chest of drawers. + +“You're jest lovely,” said Ann Eliza. + + +Spring was making itself unmistakably known to the distrustful New +Yorker by an increased harshness of wind and prevalence of dust, when +one day Evelina entered the back room at supper-time with a cluster of +jonquils in her hand. + +“I was just that foolish,” she answered Ann Eliza's wondering glance, “I +couldn't help buyin' 'em. I felt as if I must have something pretty to +look at right away.” + +“Oh, sister,” said Ann Eliza, in trembling sympathy. She felt that +special indulgence must be conceded to those in Evelina's state since +she had had her own fleeting vision of such mysterious longings as the +words betrayed. + +Evelina, meanwhile, had taken the bundle of dried grasses out of the +broken china vase, and was putting the jonquils in their place with +touches that lingered down their smooth stems and blade-like leaves. + +“Ain't they pretty?” she kept repeating as she gathered the flowers into +a starry circle. “Seems as if spring was really here, don't it?” + +Ann Eliza remembered that it was Mr. Ramy's evening. + +When he came, the Teutonic eye for anything that blooms made him turn at +once to the jonquils. + +“Ain't dey pretty?” he said. “Seems like as if de spring was really +here.” + +“Don't it?” Evelina exclaimed, thrilled by the coincidence of their +thought. “It's just what I was saying to my sister.” + +Ann Eliza got up suddenly and moved away; she remembered that she had +not wound the clock the day before. Evelina was sitting at the table; +the jonquils rose slenderly between herself and Mr. Ramy. + +“Oh,” she murmured with vague eyes, “how I'd love to get away somewheres +into the country this very minute--somewheres where it was green and +quiet. Seems as if I couldn't stand the city another day.” But Ann Eliza +noticed that she was looking at Mr. Ramy, and not at the flowers. + +“I guess we might go to Cendral Park some Sunday,” their visitor +suggested. “Do you ever go there, Miss Evelina?” + +“No, we don't very often; leastways we ain't been for a good while.” She +sparkled at the prospect. “It would be lovely, wouldn't it, Ann Eliza?” + +“Why, yes,” said the elder sister, coming back to her seat. + +“Well, why don't we go next Sunday?” Mr. Ramy continued. “And we'll +invite Miss Mellins too--that'll make a gosy little party.” + +That night when Evelina undressed she took a jonquil from the vase +and pressed it with a certain ostentation between the leaves of her +prayer-book. Ann Eliza, covertly observing her, felt that Evelina was +not sorry to be observed, and that her own acute consciousness of the +act was somehow regarded as magnifying its significance. + +The following Sunday broke blue and warm. The Bunner sisters were +habitual church-goers, but for once they left their prayer-books on the +what-not, and ten o'clock found them, gloved and bonneted, awaiting Miss +Mellins's knock. Miss Mellins presently appeared in a glitter of jet +sequins and spangles, with a tale of having seen a strange man prowling +under her windows till he was called off at dawn by a confederate's +whistle; and shortly afterward came Mr. Ramy, his hair brushed with more +than usual care, his broad hands encased in gloves of olive-green kid. + +The little party set out for the nearest street-car, and a flutter of +mingled gratification and embarrassment stirred Ann Eliza's bosom when +it was found that Mr. Ramy intended to pay their fares. Nor did he fail +to live up to this opening liberality; for after guiding them through +the Mall and the Ramble he led the way to a rustic restaurant where, +also at his expense, they fared idyllically on milk and lemon-pie. + +After this they resumed their walk, strolling on with the slowness of +unaccustomed holiday-makers from one path to another--through budding +shrubberies, past grass-banks sprinkled with lilac crocuses, and under +rocks on which the forsythia lay like sudden sunshine. Everything about +her seemed new and miraculously lovely to Ann Eliza; but she kept her +feelings to herself, leaving it to Evelina to exclaim at the hepaticas +under the shady ledges, and to Miss Mellins, less interested in the +vegetable than in the human world, to remark significantly on the +probable history of the persons they met. All the alleys were thronged +with promenaders and obstructed by perambulators; and Miss Mellins's +running commentary threw a glare of lurid possibilities over the placid +family groups and their romping progeny. + +Ann Eliza was in no mood for such interpretations of life; but, knowing +that Miss Mellins had been invited for the sole purpose of keeping her +company she continued to cling to the dress-maker's side, letting +Mr. Ramy lead the way with Evelina. Miss Mellins, stimulated by the +excitement of the occasion, grew more and more discursive, and +her ceaseless talk, and the kaleidoscopic whirl of the crowd, were +unspeakably bewildering to Ann Eliza. Her feet, accustomed to the +slippered ease of the shop, ached with the unfamiliar effort of walking, +and her ears with the din of the dress-maker's anecdotes; but every +nerve in her was aware of Evelina's enjoyment, and she was determined +that no weariness of hers should curtail it. Yet even her heroism shrank +from the significant glances which Miss Mellins presently began to +cast at the couple in front of them: Ann Eliza could bear to connive at +Evelina's bliss, but not to acknowledge it to others. + +At length Evelina's feet also failed her, and she turned to suggest +that they ought to be going home. Her flushed face had grown pale with +fatigue, but her eyes were radiant. + +The return lived in Ann Eliza's memory with the persistence of an evil +dream. The horse-cars were packed with the returning throng, and they +had to let a dozen go by before they could push their way into one that +was already crowded. Ann Eliza had never before felt so tired. Even Miss +Mellins's flow of narrative ran dry, and they sat silent, wedged between +a negro woman and a pock-marked man with a bandaged head, while the car +rumbled slowly down a squalid avenue to their corner. Evelina and Mr. +Ramy sat together in the forward part of the car, and Ann Eliza could +catch only an occasional glimpse of the forget-me-not bonnet and the +clock-maker's shiny coat-collar; but when the little party got out at +their corner the crowd swept them together again, and they walked back +in the effortless silence of tired children to the Bunner sisters' +basement. As Miss Mellins and Mr. Ramy turned to go their various ways +Evelina mustered a last display of smiles; but Ann Eliza crossed the +threshold in silence, feeling the stillness of the little shop reach out +to her like consoling arms. + +That night she could not sleep; but as she lay cold and rigid at her +sister's side, she suddenly felt the pressure of Evelina's arms, and +heard her whisper: “Oh, Ann Eliza, warn't it heavenly?” + + + + +VI + + +For four days after their Sunday in the Park the Bunner sisters had no +news of Mr. Ramy. At first neither one betrayed her disappointment and +anxiety to the other; but on the fifth morning Evelina, always the first +to yield to her feelings, said, as she turned from her untasted tea: “I +thought you'd oughter take that money out by now, Ann Eliza.” + +Ann Eliza understood and reddened. The winter had been a fairly +prosperous one for the sisters, and their slowly accumulated savings +had now reached the handsome sum of two hundred dollars; but the +satisfaction they might have felt in this unwonted opulence had been +clouded by a suggestion of Miss Mellins's that there were dark rumours +concerning the savings bank in which their funds were deposited. They +knew Miss Mellins was given to vain alarms; but her words, by the sheer +force of repetition, had so shaken Ann Eliza's peace that after long +hours of midnight counsel the sisters had decided to advise with +Mr. Ramy; and on Ann Eliza, as the head of the house, this duty +had devolved. Mr. Ramy, when consulted, had not only confirmed the +dress-maker's report, but had offered to find some safe investment which +should give the sisters a higher rate of interest than the suspected +savings bank; and Ann Eliza knew that Evelina alluded to the suggested +transfer. + +“Why, yes, to be sure,” she agreed. “Mr. Ramy said if he was us he +wouldn't want to leave his money there any longer'n he could help.” + +“It was over a week ago he said it,” Evelina reminded her. + +“I know; but he told me to wait till he'd found out for sure about that +other investment; and we ain't seen him since then.” + +Ann Eliza's words released their secret fear. “I wonder what's happened +to him,” Evelina said. “You don't suppose he could be sick?” + +“I was wondering too,” Ann Eliza rejoined; and the sisters looked down +at their plates. + +“I should think you'd oughter do something about that money pretty +soon,” Evelina began again. + +“Well, I know I'd oughter. What would you do if you was me?” + +“If I was YOU,” said her sister, with perceptible emphasis and a rising +blush, “I'd go right round and see if Mr. Ramy was sick. YOU could.” + +The words pierced Ann Eliza like a blade. “Yes, that's so,” she said. + +“It would only seem friendly, if he really IS sick. If I was you I'd go +to-day,” Evelina continued; and after dinner Ann Eliza went. + +On the way she had to leave a parcel at the dyer's, and having performed +that errand she turned toward Mr. Ramy's shop. Never before had she felt +so old, so hopeless and humble. She knew she was bound on a love-errand +of Evelina's, and the knowledge seemed to dry the last drop of young +blood in her veins. It took from her, too, all her faded virginal +shyness; and with a brisk composure she turned the handle of the +clock-maker's door. + +But as she entered her heart began to tremble, for she saw Mr. Ramy, his +face hidden in his hands, sitting behind the counter in an attitude of +strange dejection. At the click of the latch he looked up slowly, fixing +a lustreless stare on Ann Eliza. For a moment she thought he did not +know her. + +“Oh, you're sick!” she exclaimed; and the sound of her voice seemed to +recall his wandering senses. + +“Why, if it ain't Miss Bunner!” he said, in a low thick tone; but he +made no attempt to move, and she noticed that his face was the colour of +yellow ashes. + +“You ARE sick,” she persisted, emboldened by his evident need of help. +“Mr. Ramy, it was real unfriendly of you not to let us know.” + +He continued to look at her with dull eyes. “I ain't been sick,” he +said. “Leastways not very: only one of my old turns.” He spoke in a slow +laboured way, as if he had difficulty in getting his words together. + +“Rheumatism?” she ventured, seeing how unwillingly he seemed to move. + +“Well--somethin' like, maybe. I couldn't hardly put a name to it.” + +“If it WAS anything like rheumatism, my grandmother used to make a +tea--” Ann Eliza began: she had forgotten, in the warmth of the moment, +that she had only come as Evelina's messenger. + +At the mention of tea an expression of uncontrollable repugnance passed +over Mr. Ramy's face. “Oh, I guess I'm getting on all right. I've just +got a headache to-day.” + +Ann Eliza's courage dropped at the note of refusal in his voice. + +“I'm sorry,” she said gently. “My sister and me'd have been glad to do +anything we could for you.” + +“Thank you kindly,” said Mr. Ramy wearily; then, as she turned to the +door, he added with an effort: “Maybe I'll step round to-morrow.” + +“We'll be real glad,” Ann Eliza repeated. Her eyes were fixed on a dusty +bronze clock in the window. She was unaware of looking at it at +the time, but long afterward she remembered that it represented a +Newfoundland dog with his paw on an open book. + +When she reached home there was a purchaser in the shop, turning over +hooks and eyes under Evelina's absent-minded supervision. Ann Eliza +passed hastily into the back room, but in an instant she heard her +sister at her side. + +“Quick! I told her I was goin' to look for some smaller hooks--how is +he?” Evelina gasped. + +“He ain't been very well,” said Ann Eliza slowly, her eyes on Evelina's +eager face; “but he says he'll be sure to be round to-morrow night.” + +“He will? Are you telling me the truth?” + +“Why, Evelina Bunner!” + +“Oh, I don't care!” cried the younger recklessly, rushing back into the +shop. + +Ann Eliza stood burning with the shame of Evelina's self-exposure. She +was shocked that, even to her, Evelina should lay bare the nakedness of +her emotion; and she tried to turn her thoughts from it as though its +recollection made her a sharer in her sister's debasement. + +The next evening, Mr. Ramy reappeared, still somewhat sallow and +red-lidded, but otherwise his usual self. Ann Eliza consulted him about +the investment he had recommended, and after it had been settled that he +should attend to the matter for her he took up the illustrated volume of +Longfellow--for, as the sisters had learned, his culture soared beyond +the newspapers--and read aloud, with a fine confusion of consonants, the +poem on “Maidenhood.” Evelina lowered her lids while he read. It was a +very beautiful evening, and Ann Eliza thought afterward how different +life might have been with a companion who read poetry like Mr. Ramy. + + + + +VII + + +During the ensuing weeks Mr. Ramy, though his visits were as frequent as +ever, did not seem to regain his usual spirits. He complained frequently +of headache, but rejected Ann Eliza's tentatively proffered remedies, +and seemed to shrink from any prolonged investigation of his symptoms. +July had come, with a sudden ardour of heat, and one evening, as the +three sat together by the open window in the back room, Evelina said: +“I dunno what I wouldn't give, a night like this, for a breath of real +country air.” + +“So would I,” said Mr. Ramy, knocking the ashes from his pipe. “I'd like +to be setting in an arbour dis very minute.” + +“Oh, wouldn't it be lovely?” + +“I always think it's real cool here--we'd be heaps hotter up where Miss +Mellins is,” said Ann Eliza. + +“Oh, I daresay--but we'd be heaps cooler somewhere else,” her sister +snapped: she was not infrequently exasperated by Ann Eliza's furtive +attempts to mollify Providence. + +A few days later Mr. Ramy appeared with a suggestion which enchanted +Evelina. He had gone the day before to see his friend, Mrs. Hochmuller, +who lived in the outskirts of Hoboken, and Mrs. Hochmuller had proposed +that on the following Sunday he should bring the Bunner sisters to spend +the day with her. + +“She's got a real garden, you know,” Mr. Ramy explained, “wid trees and +a real summer-house to set in; and hens and chickens too. And it's an +elegant sail over on de ferry-boat.” + +The proposal drew no response from Ann Eliza. She was still oppressed by +the recollection of her interminable Sunday in the Park; but, obedient +to Evelina's imperious glance, she finally faltered out an acceptance. + +The Sunday was a very hot one, and once on the ferry-boat Ann Eliza +revived at the touch of the salt breeze, and the spectacle of the +crowded waters; but when they reached the other shore, and stepped out +on the dirty wharf, she began to ache with anticipated weariness. They +got into a street-car, and were jolted from one mean street to another, +till at length Mr. Ramy pulled the conductor's sleeve and they got out +again; then they stood in the blazing sun, near the door of a crowded +beer-saloon, waiting for another car to come; and that carried them out +to a thinly settled district, past vacant lots and narrow brick houses +standing in unsupported solitude, till they finally reached an almost +rural region of scattered cottages and low wooden buildings that looked +like village “stores.” Here the car finally stopped of its own accord, +and they walked along a rutty road, past a stone-cutter's yard with a +high fence tapestried with theatrical advertisements, to a little red +house with green blinds and a garden paling. Really, Mr. Ramy had not +deceived them. Clumps of dielytra and day-lilies bloomed behind the +paling, and a crooked elm hung romantically over the gable of the house. + +At the gate Mrs. Hochmuller, a broad woman in brick-brown merino, met +them with nods and smiles, while her daughter Linda, a flaxen-haired +girl with mottled red cheeks and a sidelong stare, hovered inquisitively +behind her. Mrs. Hochmuller, leading the way into the house, conducted +the Bunner sisters the way to her bedroom. Here they were invited to +spread out on a mountainous white featherbed the cashmere mantles under +which the solemnity of the occasion had compelled them to swelter, +and when they had given their black silks the necessary twitch +of readjustment, and Evelina had fluffed out her hair before a +looking-glass framed in pink-shell work, their hostess led them to a +stuffy parlour smelling of gingerbread. After another ceremonial pause, +broken by polite enquiries and shy ejaculations, they were shown into +the kitchen, where the table was already spread with strange-looking +spice-cakes and stewed fruits, and where they presently found themselves +seated between Mrs. Hochmuller and Mr. Ramy, while the staring Linda +bumped back and forth from the stove with steaming dishes. + +To Ann Eliza the dinner seemed endless, and the rich fare strangely +unappetizing. She was abashed by the easy intimacy of her hostess's +voice and eye. With Mr. Ramy Mrs. Hochmuller was almost flippantly +familiar, and it was only when Ann Eliza pictured her generous form bent +above his sick-bed that she could forgive her for tersely addressing him +as “Ramy.” During one of the pauses of the meal Mrs. Hochmuller laid her +knife and fork against the edges of her plate, and, fixing her eyes +on the clock-maker's face, said accusingly: “You hat one of dem turns +again, Ramy.” + +“I dunno as I had,” he returned evasively. + +Evelina glanced from one to the other. “Mr. Ramy HAS been sick,” she +said at length, as though to show that she also was in a position to +speak with authority. “He's complained very frequently of headaches.” + +“Ho!--I know him,” said Mrs. Hochmuller with a laugh, her eyes still on +the clock-maker. “Ain't you ashamed of yourself, Ramy?” + +Mr. Ramy, who was looking at his plate, said suddenly one word which the +sisters could not understand; it sounded to Ann Eliza like “Shwike.” + +Mrs. Hochmuller laughed again. “My, my,” she said, “wouldn't you think +he'd be ashamed to go and be sick and never dell me, me that nursed him +troo dat awful fever?” + +“Yes, I SHOULD,” said Evelina, with a spirited glance at Ramy; but he +was looking at the sausages that Linda had just put on the table. + +When dinner was over Mrs. Hochmuller invited her guests to step out of +the kitchen-door, and they found themselves in a green enclosure, half +garden, half orchard. Grey hens followed by golden broods clucked under +the twisted apple-boughs, a cat dozed on the edge of an old well, and +from tree to tree ran the network of clothes-line that denoted Mrs. +Hochmuller's calling. Beyond the apple trees stood a yellow summer-house +festooned with scarlet runners; and below it, on the farther side of +a rough fence, the land dipped down, holding a bit of woodland in +its hollow. It was all strangely sweet and still on that hot Sunday +afternoon, and as she moved across the grass under the apple-boughs Ann +Eliza thought of quiet afternoons in church, and of the hymns her mother +had sung to her when she was a baby. + +Evelina was more restless. She wandered from the well to the +summer-house and back, she tossed crumbs to the chickens and disturbed +the cat with arch caresses; and at last she expressed a desire to go +down into the wood. + +“I guess you got to go round by the road, then,” said Mrs. Hochmuller. +“My Linda she goes troo a hole in de fence, but I guess you'd tear your +dress if you was to dry.” + +“I'll help you,” said Mr. Ramy; and guided by Linda the pair walked +along the fence till they reached a narrow gap in its boards. Through +this they disappeared, watched curiously in their descent by the +grinning Linda, while Mrs. Hochmuller and Ann Eliza were left alone in +the summer-house. + +Mrs. Hochmuller looked at her guest with a confidential smile. “I guess +dey'll be gone quite a while,” she remarked, jerking her double chin +toward the gap in the fence. “Folks like dat don't never remember about +de dime.” And she drew out her knitting. + +Ann Eliza could think of nothing to say. + +“Your sister she thinks a great lot of him, don't she?” her hostess +continued. + +Ann Eliza's cheeks grew hot. “Ain't you a teeny bit lonesome away out +here sometimes?” she asked. “I should think you'd be scared nights, all +alone with your daughter.” + +“Oh, no, I ain't,” said Mrs. Hochmuller. “You see I take in +washing--dat's my business--and it's a lot cheaper doing it out here dan +in de city: where'd I get a drying-ground like dis in Hobucken? And den +it's safer for Linda too; it geeps her outer de streets.” + +“Oh,” said Ann Eliza, shrinking. She began to feel a distinct aversion +for her hostess, and her eyes turned with involuntary annoyance to the +square-backed form of Linda, still inquisitively suspended on the fence. +It seemed to Ann Eliza that Evelina and her companion would never return +from the wood; but they came at length, Mr. Ramy's brow pearled with +perspiration, Evelina pink and conscious, a drooping bunch of ferns in +her hand; and it was clear that, to her at least, the moments had been +winged. + +“D'you suppose they'll revive?” she asked, holding up the ferns; but +Ann Eliza, rising at her approach, said stiffly: “We'd better be getting +home, Evelina.” + +“Mercy me! Ain't you going to take your coffee first?” Mrs. Hochmuller +protested; and Ann Eliza found to her dismay that another long +gastronomic ceremony must intervene before politeness permitted them +to leave. At length, however, they found themselves again on the +ferry-boat. Water and sky were grey, with a dividing gleam of sunset +that sent sleek opal waves in the boat's wake. The wind had a cool tarry +breath, as though it had travelled over miles of shipping, and the hiss +of the water about the paddles was as delicious as though it had been +splashed into their tired faces. + +Ann Eliza sat apart, looking away from the others. She had made up her +mind that Mr. Ramy had proposed to Evelina in the wood, and she was +silently preparing herself to receive her sister's confidence that +evening. + +But Evelina was apparently in no mood for confidences. When they reached +home she put her faded ferns in water, and after supper, when she had +laid aside her silk dress and the forget-me-not bonnet, she remained +silently seated in her rocking-chair near the open window. It was long +since Ann Eliza had seen her in so uncommunicative a mood. + + +The following Saturday Ann Eliza was sitting alone in the shop when the +door opened and Mr. Ramy entered. He had never before called at that +hour, and she wondered a little anxiously what had brought him. + +“Has anything happened?” she asked, pushing aside the basketful of +buttons she had been sorting. + +“Not's I know of,” said Mr. Ramy tranquilly. “But I always close up the +store at two o'clock Saturdays at this season, so I thought I might as +well call round and see you.” + +“I'm real glad, I'm sure,” said Ann Eliza; “but Evelina's out.” + +“I know dat,” Mr. Ramy answered. “I met her round de corner. She told me +she got to go to dat new dyer's up in Forty-eighth Street. She won't be +back for a couple of hours, har'ly, will she?” + +Ann Eliza looked at him with rising bewilderment. “No, I guess not,” she +answered; her instinctive hospitality prompting her to add: “Won't you +set down jest the same?” + +Mr. Ramy sat down on the stool beside the counter, and Ann Eliza +returned to her place behind it. + +“I can't leave the store,” she explained. + +“Well, I guess we're very well here.” Ann Eliza had become suddenly +aware that Mr. Ramy was looking at her with unusual intentness. +Involuntarily her hand strayed to the thin streaks of hair on her +temples, and thence descended to straighten the brooch beneath her +collar. + +“You're looking very well to-day, Miss Bunner,” said Mr. Ramy, following +her gesture with a smile. + +“Oh,” said Ann Eliza nervously. “I'm always well in health,” she added. + +“I guess you're healthier than your sister, even if you are less +sizeable.” + +“Oh, I don't know. Evelina's a mite nervous sometimes, but she ain't a +bit sickly.” + +“She eats heartier than you do; but that don't mean nothing,” said Mr. +Ramy. + +Ann Eliza was silent. She could not follow the trend of his thought, and +she did not care to commit herself farther about Evelina before she +had ascertained if Mr. Ramy considered nervousness interesting or the +reverse. + +But Mr. Ramy spared her all farther indecision. + +“Well, Miss Bunner,” he said, drawing his stool closer to the counter, +“I guess I might as well tell you fust as last what I come here for +to-day. I want to get married.” + +Ann Eliza, in many a prayerful midnight hour, had sought to strengthen +herself for the hearing of this avowal, but now that it had come she +felt pitifully frightened and unprepared. Mr. Ramy was leaning with both +elbows on the counter, and she noticed that his nails were clean and +that he had brushed his hat; yet even these signs had not prepared her! + +At last she heard herself say, with a dry throat in which her heart was +hammering: “Mercy me, Mr. Ramy!” + +“I want to get married,” he repeated. “I'm too lonesome. It ain't good +for a man to live all alone, and eat noding but cold meat every day.” + +“No,” said Ann Eliza softly. + +“And the dust fairly beats me.” + +“Oh, the dust--I know!” + +Mr. Ramy stretched one of his blunt-fingered hands toward her. “I wisht +you'd take me.” + +Still Ann Eliza did not understand. She rose hesitatingly from her seat, +pushing aside the basket of buttons which lay between them; then she +perceived that Mr. Ramy was trying to take her hand, and as their +fingers met a flood of joy swept over her. Never afterward, though +every other word of their interview was stamped on her memory beyond +all possible forgetting, could she recall what he said while their hands +touched; she only knew that she seemed to be floating on a summer sea, +and that all its waves were in her ears. + +“Me--me?” she gasped. + +“I guess so,” said her suitor placidly. “You suit me right down to the +ground, Miss Bunner. Dat's the truth.” + +A woman passing along the street paused to look at the shop-window, and +Ann Eliza half hoped she would come in; but after a desultory inspection +she went on. + +“Maybe you don't fancy me?” Mr. Ramy suggested, discountenanced by Ann +Eliza's silence. + +A word of assent was on her tongue, but her lips refused it. She must +find some other way of telling him. + +“I don't say that.” + +“Well, I always kinder thought we was suited to one another,” Mr. +Ramy continued, eased of his momentary doubt. “I always liked de quiet +style--no fuss and airs, and not afraid of work.” He spoke as though +dispassionately cataloguing her charms. + +Ann Eliza felt that she must make an end. “But, Mr. Ramy, you don't +understand. I've never thought of marrying.” + +Mr. Ramy looked at her in surprise. “Why not?” + +“Well, I don't know, har'ly.” She moistened her twitching lips. “The +fact is, I ain't as active as I look. Maybe I couldn't stand the care. +I ain't as spry as Evelina--nor as young,” she added, with a last great +effort. + +“But you do most of de work here, anyways,” said her suitor doubtfully. + +“Oh, well, that's because Evelina's busy outside; and where there's only +two women the work don't amount to much. Besides, I'm the oldest; I have +to look after things,” she hastened on, half pained that her simple ruse +should so readily deceive him. + +“Well, I guess you're active enough for me,” he persisted. His calm +determination began to frighten her; she trembled lest her own should be +less staunch. + +“No, no,” she repeated, feeling the tears on her lashes. “I couldn't, +Mr. Ramy, I couldn't marry. I'm so surprised. I always thought it +was Evelina--always. And so did everybody else. She's so bright and +pretty--it seemed so natural.” + +“Well, you was all mistaken,” said Mr. Ramy obstinately. + +“I'm so sorry.” + +He rose, pushing back his chair. + +“You'd better think it over,” he said, in the large tone of a man who +feels he may safely wait. + +“Oh, no, no. It ain't any sorter use, Mr. Ramy. I don't never mean to +marry. I get tired so easily--I'd be afraid of the work. And I have +such awful headaches.” She paused, racking her brain for more convincing +infirmities. + +“Headaches, do you?” said Mr. Ramy, turning back. + +“My, yes, awful ones, that I have to give right up to. Evelina has to do +everything when I have one of them headaches. She has to bring me my tea +in the mornings.” + +“Well, I'm sorry to hear it,” said Mr. Ramy. + +“Thank you kindly all the same,” Ann Eliza murmured. “And please +don't--don't--” She stopped suddenly, looking at him through her tears. + +“Oh, that's all right,” he answered. “Don't you fret, Miss Gunner. +Folks have got to suit themselves.” She thought his tone had grown more +resigned since she had spoken of her headaches. + +For some moments he stood looking at her with a hesitating eye, as +though uncertain how to end their conversation; and at length she found +courage to say (in the words of a novel she had once read): “I don't +want this should make any difference between us.” + +“Oh, my, no,” said Mr. Ramy, absently picking up his hat. + +“You'll come in just the same?” she continued, nerving herself to +the effort. “We'd miss you awfully if you didn't. Evelina, she--” She +paused, torn between her desire to turn his thoughts to Evelina, and the +dread of prematurely disclosing her sister's secret. + +“Don't Miss Evelina have no headaches?” Mr. Ramy suddenly asked. + +“My, no, never--well, not to speak of, anyway. She ain't had one for +ages, and when Evelina IS sick she won't never give in to it,” Ann Eliza +declared, making some hurried adjustments with her conscience. + +“I wouldn't have thought that,” said Mr. Ramy. + +“I guess you don't know us as well as you thought you did.” + +“Well, no, that's so; maybe I don't. I'll wish you good day, Miss +Bunner”; and Mr. Ramy moved toward the door. + +“Good day, Mr. Ramy,” Ann Eliza answered. + +She felt unutterably thankful to be alone. She knew the crucial moment +of her life had passed, and she was glad that she had not fallen below +her own ideals. It had been a wonderful experience; and in spite of +the tears on her cheeks she was not sorry to have known it. Two facts, +however, took the edge from its perfection: that it had happened in the +shop, and that she had not had on her black silk. + +She passed the next hour in a state of dreamy ecstasy. Something had +entered into her life of which no subsequent empoverishment could rob +it: she glowed with the same rich sense of possessorship that once, as +a little girl, she had felt when her mother had given her a gold locket +and she had sat up in bed in the dark to draw it from its hiding-place +beneath her night-gown. + +At length a dread of Evelina's return began to mingle with these +musings. How could she meet her younger sister's eye without betraying +what had happened? She felt as though a visible glory lay on her, and +she was glad that dusk had fallen when Evelina entered. But her fears +were superfluous. Evelina, always self-absorbed, had of late lost all +interest in the simple happenings of the shop, and Ann Eliza, with +mingled mortification and relief, perceived that she was in no danger of +being cross-questioned as to the events of the afternoon. She was +glad of this; yet there was a touch of humiliation in finding that the +portentous secret in her bosom did not visibly shine forth. It struck +her as dull, and even slightly absurd, of Evelina not to know at last +that they were equals. + + + + +PART II + + + + +VIII + +Mr. Ramy, after a decent interval, returned to the shop; and Ann Eliza, +when they met, was unable to detect whether the emotions which seethed +under her black alpaca found an echo in his bosom. Outwardly he made no +sign. He lit his pipe as placidly as ever and seemed to relapse without +effort into the unruffled intimacy of old. Yet to Ann Eliza's initiated +eye a change became gradually perceptible. She saw that he was beginning +to look at her sister as he had looked at her on that momentous +afternoon: she even discerned a secret significance in the turn of his +talk with Evelina. Once he asked her abruptly if she should like +to travel, and Ann Eliza saw that the flush on Evelina's cheek was +reflected from the same fire which had scorched her own. + +So they drifted on through the sultry weeks of July. At that season the +business of the little shop almost ceased, and one Saturday morning Mr. +Ramy proposed that the sisters should lock up early and go with him for +a sail down the bay in one of the Coney Island boats. + +Ann Eliza saw the light in Evelina's eye and her resolve was instantly +taken. + +“I guess I won't go, thank you kindly; but I'm sure my sister will be +happy to.” + +She was pained by the perfunctory phrase with which Evelina urged her to +accompany them; and still more by Mr. Ramy's silence. + +“No, I guess I won't go,” she repeated, rather in answer to herself than +to them. “It's dreadfully hot and I've got a kinder headache.” + +“Oh, well, I wouldn't then,” said her sister hurriedly. “You'd better +jest set here quietly and rest.” + +“Yes, I'll rest,” Ann Eliza assented. + +At two o'clock Mr. Ramy returned, and a moment later he and Evelina left +the shop. Evelina had made herself another new bonnet for the occasion, +a bonnet, Ann Eliza thought, almost too youthful in shape and colour. +It was the first time it had ever occurred to her to criticize Evelina's +taste, and she was frightened at the insidious change in her attitude +toward her sister. + +When Ann Eliza, in later days, looked back on that afternoon she felt +that there had been something prophetic in the quality of its solitude; +it seemed to distill the triple essence of loneliness in which all her +after-life was to be lived. No purchasers came; not a hand fell on +the door-latch; and the tick of the clock in the back room ironically +emphasized the passing of the empty hours. + +Evelina returned late and alone. Ann Eliza felt the coming crisis in the +sound of her footstep, which wavered along as if not knowing on what it +trod. The elder sister's affection had so passionately projected itself +into her junior's fate that at such moments she seemed to be living +two lives, her own and Evelina's; and her private longings shrank into +silence at the sight of the other's hungry bliss. But it was evident +that Evelina, never acutely alive to the emotional atmosphere about her, +had no idea that her secret was suspected; and with an assumption of +unconcern that would have made Ann Eliza smile if the pang had been less +piercing, the younger sister prepared to confess herself. + +“What are you so busy about?” she said impatiently, as Ann Eliza, +beneath the gas-jet, fumbled for the matches. “Ain't you even got time +to ask me if I'd had a pleasant day?” + +Ann Eliza turned with a quiet smile. “I guess I don't have to. Seems to +me it's pretty plain you have.” + +“Well, I don't know. I don't know HOW I feel--it's all so queer. I +almost think I'd like to scream.” + +“I guess you're tired.” + +“No, I ain't. It's not that. But it all happened so suddenly, and the +boat was so crowded I thought everybody'd hear what he was saying.--Ann +Eliza,” she broke out, “why on earth don't you ask me what I'm talking +about?” + +Ann Eliza, with a last effort of heroism, feigned a fond +incomprehension. + +“What ARE you?” + +“Why, I'm engaged to be married--so there! Now it's out! And it happened +right on the boat; only to think of it! Of course I wasn't exactly +surprised--I've known right along he was going to sooner or later--on'y +somehow I didn't think of its happening to-day. I thought he'd never get +up his courage. He said he was so 'fraid I'd say no--that's what kep' +him so long from asking me. Well, I ain't said yes YET--leastways I told +him I'd have to think it over; but I guess he knows. Oh, Ann Eliza, I'm +so happy!” She hid the blinding brightness of her face. + +Ann Eliza, just then, would only let herself feel that she was glad. She +drew down Evelina's hands and kissed her, and they held each other. When +Evelina regained her voice she had a tale to tell which carried their +vigil far into the night. Not a syllable, not a glance or gesture of +Ramy's, was the elder sister spared; and with unconscious irony she +found herself comparing the details of his proposal to her with those +which Evelina was imparting with merciless prolixity. + +The next few days were taken up with the embarrassed adjustment of their +new relation to Mr. Ramy and to each other. Ann Eliza's ardour carried +her to new heights of self-effacement, and she invented late duties in +the shop in order to leave Evelina and her suitor longer alone in the +back room. Later on, when she tried to remember the details of those +first days, few came back to her: she knew only that she got up each +morning with the sense of having to push the leaden hours up the same +long steep of pain. + +Mr. Ramy came daily now. Every evening he and his betrothed went out +for a stroll around the Square, and when Evelina came in her cheeks were +always pink. “He's kissed her under that tree at the corner, away from +the lamp-post,” Ann Eliza said to herself, with sudden insight into +unconjectured things. On Sundays they usually went for the whole +afternoon to the Central Park, and Ann Eliza, from her seat in the +mortal hush of the back room, followed step by step their long slow +beatific walk. + +There had been, as yet, no allusion to their marriage, except that +Evelina had once told her sister that Mr. Ramy wished them to invite +Mrs. Hochmuller and Linda to the wedding. The mention of the laundress +raised a half-forgotten fear in Ann Eliza, and she said in a tone of +tentative appeal: “I guess if I was you I wouldn't want to be very great +friends with Mrs. Hochmuller.” + +Evelina glanced at her compassionately. “I guess if you was me you'd +want to do everything you could to please the man you loved. It's +lucky,” she added with glacial irony, “that I'm not too grand for +Herman's friends.” + +“Oh,” Ann Eliza protested, “that ain't what I mean--and you know it +ain't. Only somehow the day we saw her I didn't think she seemed like +the kinder person you'd want for a friend.” + +“I guess a married woman's the best judge of such matters,” Evelina +replied, as though she already walked in the light of her future state. + +Ann Eliza, after that, kept her own counsel. She saw that Evelina wanted +her sympathy as little as her admonitions, and that already she counted +for nothing in her sister's scheme of life. To Ann Eliza's idolatrous +acceptance of the cruelties of fate this exclusion seemed both natural +and just; but it caused her the most lively pain. She could not divest +her love for Evelina of its passionate motherliness; no breath of reason +could lower it to the cool temperature of sisterly affection. + +She was then passing, as she thought, through the novitiate of her pain; +preparing, in a hundred experimental ways, for the solitude awaiting her +when Evelina left. It was true that it would be a tempered loneliness. +They would not be far apart. Evelina would “run in” daily from the +clock-maker's; they would doubtless take supper with her on Sundays. But +already Ann Eliza guessed with what growing perfunctoriness her sister +would fulfill these obligations; she even foresaw the day when, to get +news of Evelina, she should have to lock the shop at nightfall and go +herself to Mr. Ramy's door. But on that contingency she would not dwell. +“They can come to me when they want to--they'll always find me here,” + she simply said to herself. + +One evening Evelina came in flushed and agitated from her stroll around +the Square. Ann Eliza saw at once that something had happened; but the +new habit of reticence checked her question. + +She had not long to wait. “Oh, Ann Eliza, on'y to think what he says--” + (the pronoun stood exclusively for Mr. Ramy). “I declare I'm so upset I +thought the people in the Square would notice me. Don't I look queer? He +wants to get married right off--this very next week.” + +“Next week?” + +“Yes. So's we can move out to St. Louis right away.” + +“Him and you--move out to St. Louis?” + +“Well, I don't know as it would be natural for him to want to go out +there without me,” Evelina simpered. “But it's all so sudden I don't +know what to think. He only got the letter this morning. <i>Do</i> I look +queer, Ann Eliza?” Her eye was roving for the mirror. + +“No, you don't,” said Ann Eliza almost harshly. + +“Well, it's a mercy,” Evelina pursued with a tinge of disappointment. +“It's a regular miracle I didn't faint right out there in the Square. +Herman's so thoughtless--he just put the letter into my hand without a +word. It's from a big firm out there--the Tiff'ny of St. Louis, he says +it is--offering him a place in their clock-department. Seems they heard +of him through a German friend of his that's settled out there. It's a +splendid opening, and if he gives satisfaction they'll raise him at the +end of the year.” + +She paused, flushed with the importance of the situation, which seemed +to lift her once for all above the dull level of her former life. + +“Then you'll have to go?” came at last from Ann Eliza. + +Evelina stared. “You wouldn't have me interfere with his prospects, +would you?” + +“No--no. I on'y meant--has it got to be so soon?” + +“Right away, I tell you--next week. Ain't it awful?” blushed the bride. + +Well, this was what happened to mothers. They bore it, Ann Eliza mused; +so why not she? Ah, but they had their own chance first; she had had no +chance at all. And now this life which she had made her own was going +from her forever; had gone, already, in the inner and deeper sense, and +was soon to vanish in even its outward nearness, its surface-communion +of voice and eye. At that moment even the thought of Evelina's happiness +refused her its consolatory ray; or its light, if she saw it, was too +remote to warm her. The thirst for a personal and inalienable tie, for +pangs and problems of her own, was parching Ann Eliza's soul: it seemed +to her that she could never again gather strength to look her loneliness +in the face. + +The trivial obligations of the moment came to her aid. Nursed in +idleness her grief would have mastered her; but the needs of the shop +and the back room, and the preparations for Evelina's marriage, kept the +tyrant under. + +Miss Mellins, true to her anticipations, had been called on to aid in +the making of the wedding dress, and she and Ann Eliza were bending one +evening over the breadths of pearl-grey cashmere which in spite of the +dress-maker's prophetic vision of gored satin, had been judged most +suitable, when Evelina came into the room alone. + +Ann Eliza had already had occasion to notice that it was a bad sign when +Mr. Ramy left his affianced at the door. It generally meant that Evelina +had something disturbing to communicate, and Ann Eliza's first glance +told her that this time the news was grave. + +Miss Mellins, who sat with her back to the door and her head bent over +her sewing, started as Evelina came around to the opposite side of the +table. + +“Mercy, Miss Evelina! I declare I thought you was a ghost, the way you +crep' in. I had a customer once up in Forty-ninth Street--a lovely young +woman with a thirty-six bust and a waist you could ha' put into her +wedding ring--and her husband, he crep' up behind her that way jest for +a joke, and frightened her into a fit, and when she come to she was a +raving maniac, and had to be taken to Bloomingdale with two doctors and +a nurse to hold her in the carriage, and a lovely baby on'y six weeks +old--and there she is to this day, poor creature.” + +“I didn't mean to startle you,” said Evelina. + +She sat down on the nearest chair, and as the lamp-light fell on her +face Ann Eliza saw that she had been crying. + +“You do look dead-beat,” Miss Mellins resumed, after a pause of +soul-probing scrutiny. “I guess Mr. Ramy lugs you round that Square too +often. You'll walk your legs off if you ain't careful. Men don't never +consider--they're all alike. Why, I had a cousin once that was engaged +to a book-agent--” + +“Maybe we'd better put away the work for to-night, Miss Mellins,” Ann +Eliza interposed. “I guess what Evelina wants is a good night's rest.” + +“That's so,” assented the dress-maker. “Have you got the back breadths +run together, Miss Bunner? Here's the sleeves. I'll pin 'em together.” + She drew a cluster of pins from her mouth, in which she seemed to +secrete them as squirrels stow away nuts. “There,” she said, rolling up +her work, “you go right away to bed, Miss Evelina, and we'll set up a +little later to-morrow night. I guess you're a mite nervous, ain't you? +I know when my turn comes I'll be scared to death.” + +With this arch forecast she withdrew, and Ann Eliza, returning to the +back room, found Evelina still listlessly seated by the table. True to +her new policy of silence, the elder sister set about folding up the +bridal dress; but suddenly Evelina said in a harsh unnatural voice: +“There ain't any use in going on with that.” + +The folds slipped from Ann Eliza's hands. + +“Evelina Bunner--what you mean?” + +“Jest what I say. It's put off.” + +“Put off--what's put off?” + +“Our getting married. He can't take me to St. Louis. He ain't got money +enough.” She brought the words out in the monotonous tone of a child +reciting a lesson. + +Ann Eliza picked up another breadth of cashmere and began to smooth it +out. “I don't understand,” she said at length. + +“Well, it's plain enough. The journey's fearfully expensive, and we've +got to have something left to start with when we get out there. We've +counted up, and he ain't got the money to do it--that's all.” + +“But I thought he was going right into a splendid place.” + +“So he is; but the salary's pretty low the first year, and board's very +high in St. Louis. He's jest got another letter from his German friend, +and he's been figuring it out, and he's afraid to chance it. He'll have +to go alone.” + +“But there's your money--have you forgotten that? The hundred dollars in +the bank.” + +Evelina made an impatient movement. “Of course I ain't forgotten it. +On'y it ain't enough. It would all have to go into buying furniture, +and if he was took sick and lost his place again we wouldn't have a cent +left. He says he's got to lay by another hundred dollars before he'll be +willing to take me out there.” + +For a while Ann Eliza pondered this surprising statement; then she +ventured: “Seems to me he might have thought of it before.” + +In an instant Evelina was aflame. “I guess he knows what's right as well +as you or me. I'd sooner die than be a burden to him.” + +Ann Eliza made no answer. The clutch of an unformulated doubt had +checked the words on her lips. She had meant, on the day of her sister's +marriage, to give Evelina the other half of their common savings; but +something warned her not to say so now. + +The sisters undressed without farther words. After they had gone to bed, +and the light had been put out, the sound of Evelina's weeping came to +Ann Eliza in the darkness, but she lay motionless on her own side of the +bed, out of contact with her sister's shaken body. Never had she felt so +coldly remote from Evelina. + +The hours of the night moved slowly, ticked off with wearisome +insistence by the clock which had played so prominent a part in their +lives. Evelina's sobs still stirred the bed at gradually lengthening +intervals, till at length Ann Eliza thought she slept. But with the dawn +the eyes of the sisters met, and Ann Eliza's courage failed her as she +looked in Evelina's face. + +She sat up in bed and put out a pleading hand. + +“Don't cry so, dearie. Don't.” + +“Oh, I can't bear it, I can't bear it,” Evelina moaned. + +Ann Eliza stroked her quivering shoulder. “Don't, don't,” she repeated. +“If you take the other hundred, won't that be enough? I always meant to +give it to you. On'y I didn't want to tell you till your wedding day.” + + + + +IX + + +Evelina's marriage took place on the appointed day. It was celebrated +in the evening, in the chantry of the church which the sisters attended, +and after it was over the few guests who had been present repaired to +the Bunner Sisters' basement, where a wedding supper awaited them. Ann +Eliza, aided by Miss Mellins and Mrs. Hawkins, and consciously supported +by the sentimental interest of the whole street, had expended her utmost +energy on the decoration of the shop and the back room. On the table a +vase of white chrysanthemums stood between a dish of oranges and bananas +and an iced wedding-cake wreathed with orange-blossoms of the bride's +own making. Autumn leaves studded with paper roses festooned the +what-not and the chromo of the Rock of Ages, and a wreath of yellow +immortelles was twined about the clock which Evelina revered as the +mysterious agent of her happiness. + +At the table sat Miss Mellins, profusely spangled and bangled, her head +sewing-girl, a pale young thing who had helped with Evelina's outfit, +Mr. and Mrs. Hawkins, with Johnny, their eldest boy, and Mrs. Hochmuller +and her daughter. + +Mrs. Hochmuller's large blonde personality seemed to pervade the room +to the effacement of the less amply-proportioned guests. It was rendered +more impressive by a dress of crimson poplin that stood out from her in +organ-like folds; and Linda, whom Ann Eliza had remembered as an +uncouth child with a sly look about the eyes, surprised her by a sudden +blossoming into feminine grace such as sometimes follows on a gawky +girlhood. The Hochmullers, in fact, struck the dominant note in the +entertainment. Beside them Evelina, unusually pale in her grey cashmere +and white bonnet, looked like a faintly washed sketch beside a brilliant +chromo; and Mr. Ramy, doomed to the traditional insignificance of the +bridegroom's part, made no attempt to rise above his situation. +Even Miss Mellins sparkled and jingled in vain in the shadow of +Mrs. Hochmuller's crimson bulk; and Ann Eliza, with a sense of vague +foreboding, saw that the wedding feast centred about the two guests she +had most wished to exclude from it. What was said or done while they +all sat about the table she never afterward recalled: the long hours +remained in her memory as a whirl of high colours and loud voices, from +which the pale presence of Evelina now and then emerged like a drowned +face on a sunset-dabbled sea. + +The next morning Mr. Ramy and his wife started for St. Louis, and Ann +Eliza was left alone. Outwardly the first strain of parting was tempered +by the arrival of Miss Mellins, Mrs. Hawkins and Johnny, who dropped in +to help in the ungarlanding and tidying up of the back room. Ann Eliza +was duly grateful for their kindness, but the “talking over” on which +they had evidently counted was Dead Sea fruit on her lips; and just +beyond the familiar warmth of their presences she saw the form of +Solitude at her door. + +Ann Eliza was but a small person to harbour so great a guest, and a +trembling sense of insufficiency possessed her. She had no high musings +to offer to the new companion of her hearth. Every one of her thoughts +had hitherto turned to Evelina and shaped itself in homely easy words; +of the mighty speech of silence she knew not the earliest syllable. + +Everything in the back room and the shop, on the second day after +Evelina's going, seemed to have grown coldly unfamiliar. The whole +aspect of the place had changed with the changed conditions of Ann +Eliza's life. The first customer who opened the shop-door startled her +like a ghost; and all night she lay tossing on her side of the bed, +sinking now and then into an uncertain doze from which she would +suddenly wake to reach out her hand for Evelina. In the new silence +surrounding her the walls and furniture found voice, frightening her +at dusk and midnight with strange sighs and stealthy whispers. Ghostly +hands shook the window shutters or rattled at the outer latch, and once +she grew cold at the sound of a step like Evelina's stealing through the +dark shop to die out on the threshold. In time, of course, she found +an explanation for these noises, telling herself that the bedstead was +warping, that Miss Mellins trod heavily overhead, or that the thunder of +passing beer-waggons shook the door-latch; but the hours leading up to +these conclusions were full of the floating terrors that harden into +fixed foreboding. Worst of all were the solitary meals, when she +absently continued to set aside the largest slice of pie for Evelina, +and to let the tea grow cold while she waited for her sister to help +herself to the first cup. Miss Mellins, coming in on one of these sad +repasts, suggested the acquisition of a cat; but Ann Eliza shook +her head. She had never been used to animals, and she felt the vague +shrinking of the pious from creatures divided from her by the abyss of +soullessness. + +At length, after ten empty days, Evelina's first letter came. + +“My dear Sister,” she wrote, in her pinched Spencerian hand, “it seems +strange to be in this great City so far from home alone with him I have +chosen for life, but marriage has its solemn duties which those who are +not can never hope to understand, and happier perhaps for this reason, +life for them has only simple tasks and pleasures, but those who must +take thought for others must be prepared to do their duty in whatever +station it has pleased the Almighty to call them. Not that I have cause +to complain, my dear Husband is all love and devotion, but being absent +all day at his business how can I help but feel lonesome at times, as +the poet says it is hard for they that love to live apart, and I often +wonder, my dear Sister, how you are getting along alone in the store, +may you never experience the feelings of solitude I have underwent since +I came here. We are boarding now, but soon expect to find rooms and +change our place of Residence, then I shall have all the care of a +household to bear, but such is the fate of those who join their Lot with +others, they cannot hope to escape from the burdens of Life, nor would +I ask it, I would not live alway but while I live would always pray for +strength to do my duty. This city is not near as large or handsome as +New York, but had my lot been cast in a Wilderness I hope I should +not repine, such never was my nature, and they who exchange their +independence for the sweet name of Wife must be prepared to find all is +not gold that glitters, nor I would not expect like you to drift down +the stream of Life unfettered and serene as a Summer cloud, such is +not my fate, but come what may will always find in me a resigned and +prayerful Spirit, and hoping this finds you as well as it leaves me, I +remain, my dear Sister, + +“Yours truly, + +“EVELINA B. RAMY.” + + +Ann Eliza had always secretly admired the oratorical and impersonal tone +of Evelina's letters; but the few she had previously read, having been +addressed to school-mates or distant relatives, had appeared in the +light of literary compositions rather than as records of personal +experience. Now she could not but wish that Evelina had laid aside her +swelling periods for a style more suited to the chronicling of homely +incidents. She read the letter again and again, seeking for a clue to +what her sister was really doing and thinking; but after each reading +she emerged impressed but unenlightened from the labyrinth of Evelina's +eloquence. + +During the early winter she received two or three more letters of the +same kind, each enclosing in its loose husk of rhetoric a smaller kernel +of fact. By dint of patient interlinear study, Ann Eliza gathered from +them that Evelina and her husband, after various costly experiments in +boarding, had been reduced to a tenement-house flat; that living in St. +Louis was more expensive than they had supposed, and that Mr. Ramy was +kept out late at night (why, at a jeweller's, Ann Eliza wondered?) and +found his position less satisfactory than he had been led to expect. +Toward February the letters fell off; and finally they ceased to come. + +At first Ann Eliza wrote, shyly but persistently, entreating for more +frequent news; then, as one appeal after another was swallowed up in the +mystery of Evelina's protracted silence, vague fears began to assail the +elder sister. Perhaps Evelina was ill, and with no one to nurse her but +a man who could not even make himself a cup of tea! Ann Eliza recalled +the layer of dust in Mr. Ramy's shop, and pictures of domestic disorder +mingled with the more poignant vision of her sister's illness. But +surely if Evelina were ill Mr. Ramy would have written. He wrote a +small neat hand, and epistolary communication was not an insuperable +embarrassment to him. The too probable alternative was that both +the unhappy pair had been prostrated by some disease which left them +powerless to summon her--for summon her they surely would, Ann Eliza +with unconscious cynicism reflected, if she or her small economies could +be of use to them! The more she strained her eyes into the mystery, the +darker it grew; and her lack of initiative, her inability to imagine +what steps might be taken to trace the lost in distant places, left her +benumbed and helpless. + +At last there floated up from some depth of troubled memory the name +of the firm of St. Louis jewellers by whom Mr. Ramy was employed. After +much hesitation, and considerable effort, she addressed to them a timid +request for news of her brother-in-law; and sooner than she could have +hoped the answer reached her. + +“DEAR MADAM, + +“In reply to yours of the 29th ult. we beg to state the party you refer +to was discharged from our employ a month ago. We are sorry we are +unable to furnish you wish his address. + +“Yours Respectfully, + +“LUDWIG AND HAMMERBUSCH.” + + +Ann Eliza read and re-read the curt statement in a stupor of distress. +She had lost her last trace of Evelina. All that night she lay awake, +revolving the stupendous project of going to St. Louis in search of her +sister; but though she pieced together her few financial possibilities +with the ingenuity of a brain used to fitting odd scraps into patch-work +quilts, she woke to the cold daylight fact that she could not raise the +money for her fare. Her wedding gift to Evelina had left her without any +resources beyond her daily earnings, and these had steadily dwindled as +the winter passed. She had long since renounced her weekly visit to the +butcher, and had reduced her other expenses to the narrowest measure; +but the most systematic frugality had not enabled her to put by any +money. In spite of her dogged efforts to maintain the prosperity of the +little shop, her sister's absence had already told on its business. +Now that Ann Eliza had to carry the bundles to the dyer's herself, the +customers who called in her absence, finding the shop locked, too often +went elsewhere. Moreover, after several stern but unavailing efforts, +she had had to give up the trimming of bonnets, which in Evelina's hands +had been the most lucrative as well as the most interesting part of the +business. This change, to the passing female eye, robbed the shop window +of its chief attraction; and when painful experience had convinced the +regular customers of the Bunner Sisters of Ann Eliza's lack of millinery +skill they began to lose faith in her ability to curl a feather or even +“freshen up” a bunch of flowers. The time came when Ann Eliza had almost +made up her mind to speak to the lady with puffed sleeves, who had +always looked at her so kindly, and had once ordered a hat of Evelina. +Perhaps the lady with puffed sleeves would be able to get her a little +plain sewing to do; or she might recommend the shop to friends. Ann +Eliza, with this possibility in view, rummaged out of a drawer the +fly-blown remainder of the business cards which the sisters had ordered +in the first flush of their commercial adventure; but when the lady with +puffed sleeves finally appeared she was in deep mourning, and wore +so sad a look that Ann Eliza dared not speak. She came in to buy some +spools of black thread and silk, and in the doorway she turned back to +say: “I am going away to-morrow for a long time. I hope you will have a +pleasant winter.” And the door shut on her. + +One day not long after this it occurred to Ann Eliza to go to Hoboken in +quest of Mrs. Hochmuller. Much as she shrank from pouring her distress +into that particular ear, her anxiety had carried her beyond such +reluctance; but when she began to think the matter over she was faced by +a new difficulty. On the occasion of her only visit to Mrs. Hochmuller, +she and Evelina had suffered themselves to be led there by Mr. Ramy; +and Ann Eliza now perceived that she did not even know the name of the +laundress's suburb, much less that of the street in which she lived. +But she must have news of Evelina, and no obstacle was great enough to +thwart her. + +Though she longed to turn to some one for advice she disliked to expose +her situation to Miss Mellins's searching eye, and at first she could +think of no other confidant. Then she remembered Mrs. Hawkins, or +rather her husband, who, though Ann Eliza had always thought him a +dull uneducated man, was probably gifted with the mysterious masculine +faculty of finding out people's addresses. It went hard with Ann Eliza +to trust her secret even to the mild ear of Mrs. Hawkins, but at least +she was spared the cross-examination to which the dress-maker would +have subjected her. The accumulating pressure of domestic cares had so +crushed in Mrs. Hawkins any curiosity concerning the affairs of others +that she received her visitor's confidence with an almost masculine +indifference, while she rocked her teething baby on one arm and with the +other tried to check the acrobatic impulses of the next in age. + +“My, my,” she simply said as Ann Eliza ended. “Keep still now, Arthur: +Miss Bunner don't want you to jump up and down on her foot to-day. And +what are you gaping at, Johnny? Run right off and play,” she added, +turning sternly to her eldest, who, because he was the least naughty, +usually bore the brunt of her wrath against the others. + +“Well, perhaps Mr. Hawkins can help you,” Mrs. Hawkins continued +meditatively, while the children, after scattering at her bidding, +returned to their previous pursuits like flies settling down on the +spot from which an exasperated hand has swept them. “I'll send him right +round the minute he comes in, and you can tell him the whole story. I +wouldn't wonder but what he can find that Mrs. Hochmuller's address in +the d'rectory. I know they've got one where he works.” + +“I'd be real thankful if he could,” Ann Eliza murmured, rising from her +seat with the factitious sense of lightness that comes from imparting a +long-hidden dread. + + + + +X + + +Mr. Hawkins proved himself worthy of his wife's faith in his capacity. +He learned from Ann Eliza as much as she could tell him about Mrs. +Hochmuller and returned the next evening with a scrap of paper bearing +her address, beneath which Johnny (the family scribe) had written in a +large round hand the names of the streets that led there from the ferry. + +Ann Eliza lay awake all that night, repeating over and over again the +directions Mr. Hawkins had given her. He was a kind man, and she knew +he would willingly have gone with her to Hoboken; indeed she read in his +timid eye the half-formed intention of offering to accompany her--but on +such an errand she preferred to go alone. + +The next Sunday, accordingly, she set out early, and without much +trouble found her way to the ferry. Nearly a year had passed since her +previous visit to Mrs. Hochmuller, and a chilly April breeze smote her +face as she stepped on the boat. Most of the passengers were huddled +together in the cabin, and Ann Eliza shrank into its obscurest corner, +shivering under the thin black mantle which had seemed so hot in July. +She began to feel a little bewildered as she stepped ashore, but a +paternal policeman put her into the right car, and as in a dream she +found herself retracing the way to Mrs. Hochmuller's door. She had told +the conductor the name of the street at which she wished to get out, +and presently she stood in the biting wind at the corner near the +beer-saloon, where the sun had once beat down on her so fiercely. At +length an empty car appeared, its yellow flank emblazoned with the name +of Mrs. Hochmuller's suburb, and Ann Eliza was presently jolting past +the narrow brick houses islanded between vacant lots like giant piles in +a desolate lagoon. When the car reached the end of its journey she got +out and stood for some time trying to remember which turn Mr. Ramy had +taken. She had just made up her mind to ask the car-driver when he shook +the reins on the backs of his lean horses, and the car, still empty, +jogged away toward Hoboken. + +Ann Eliza, left alone by the roadside, began to move cautiously +forward, looking about for a small red house with a gable overhung by an +elm-tree; but everything about her seemed unfamiliar and forbidding. One +or two surly looking men slouched past with inquisitive glances, and she +could not make up her mind to stop and speak to them. + +At length a tow-headed boy came out of a swinging door suggestive of +illicit conviviality, and to him Ann Eliza ventured to confide +her difficulty. The offer of five cents fired him with an instant +willingness to lead her to Mrs. Hochmuller, and he was soon trotting +past the stone-cutter's yard with Ann Eliza in his wake. + +Another turn in the road brought them to the little red house, and +having rewarded her guide Ann Eliza unlatched the gate and walked up to +the door. Her heart was beating violently, and she had to lean against +the door-post to compose her twitching lips: she had not known till that +moment how much it was going to hurt her to speak of Evelina to Mrs. +Hochmuller. As her agitation subsided she began to notice how much the +appearance of the house had changed. It was not only that winter had +stripped the elm, and blackened the flower-borders: the house itself had +a debased and deserted air. The window-panes were cracked and dirty, and +one or two shutters swung dismally on loosened hinges. + +She rang several times before the door was opened. At length an Irish +woman with a shawl over her head and a baby in her arms appeared on the +threshold, and glancing past her into the narrow passage Ann Eliza saw +that Mrs. Hochmuller's neat abode had deteriorated as much within as +without. + +At the mention of the name the woman stared. “Mrs. who, did ye say?” + +“Mrs. Hochmuller. This is surely her house?” + +“No, it ain't neither,” said the woman turning away. + +“Oh, but wait, please,” Ann Eliza entreated. “I can't be mistaken. I +mean the Mrs. Hochmuller who takes in washing. I came out to see her +last June.” + +“Oh, the Dutch washerwoman is it--her that used to live here? She's been +gone two months and more. It's Mike McNulty lives here now. Whisht!” to +the baby, who had squared his mouth for a howl. + +Ann Eliza's knees grew weak. “Mrs. Hochmuller gone? But where has she +gone? She must be somewhere round here. Can't you tell me?” + +“Sure an' I can't,” said the woman. “She wint away before iver we come.” + +“Dalia Geoghegan, will ye bring the choild in out av the cowld?” cried +an irate voice from within. + +“Please wait--oh, please wait,” Ann Eliza insisted. “You see I must find +Mrs. Hochmuller.” + +“Why don't ye go and look for her thin?” the woman returned, slamming +the door in her face. + +She stood motionless on the door-step, dazed by the immensity of her +disappointment, till a burst of loud voices inside the house drove her +down the path and out of the gate. + +Even then she could not grasp what had happened, and pausing in the road +she looked back at the house, half hoping that Mrs. Hochmuller's once +detested face might appear at one of the grimy windows. + +She was roused by an icy wind that seemed to spring up suddenly from the +desolate scene, piercing her thin dress like gauze; and turning away she +began to retrace her steps. She thought of enquiring for Mrs. Hochmuller +at some of the neighbouring houses, but their look was so unfriendly +that she walked on without making up her mind at which door to ring. +When she reached the horse-car terminus a car was just moving off toward +Hoboken, and for nearly an hour she had to wait on the corner in the +bitter wind. Her hands and feet were stiff with cold when the car at +length loomed into sight again, and she thought of stopping somewhere +on the way to the ferry for a cup of tea; but before the region of +lunch-rooms was reached she had grown so sick and dizzy that the thought +of food was repulsive. At length she found herself on the ferry-boat, in +the soothing stuffiness of the crowded cabin; then came another interval +of shivering on a street-corner, another long jolting journey in a +“cross-town” car that smelt of damp straw and tobacco; and lastly, in +the cold spring dusk, she unlocked her door and groped her way through +the shop to her fireless bedroom. + +The next morning Mrs. Hawkins, dropping in to hear the result of the +trip, found Ann Eliza sitting behind the counter wrapped in an old +shawl. + +“Why, Miss Bunner, you're sick! You must have fever--your face is just +as red!” + +“It's nothing. I guess I caught cold yesterday on the ferry-boat,” Ann +Eliza acknowledged. + +“And it's jest like a vault in here!” Mrs. Hawkins rebuked her. “Let me +feel your hand--it's burning. Now, Miss Bunner, you've got to go right +to bed this very minute.” + +“Oh, but I can't, Mrs. Hawkins.” Ann Eliza attempted a wan smile. “You +forget there ain't nobody but me to tend the store.” + +“I guess you won't tend it long neither, if you ain't careful,” Mrs. +Hawkins grimly rejoined. Beneath her placid exterior she cherished +a morbid passion for disease and death, and the sight of Ann Eliza's +suffering had roused her from her habitual indifference. “There ain't +so many folks comes to the store anyhow,” she went on with unconscious +cruelty, “and I'll go right up and see if Miss Mellins can't spare one +of her girls.” + +Ann Eliza, too weary to resist, allowed Mrs. Hawkins to put her to +bed and make a cup of tea over the stove, while Miss Mellins, always +good-naturedly responsive to any appeal for help, sent down the +weak-eyed little girl to deal with hypothetical customers. + +Ann Eliza, having so far abdicated her independence, sank into sudden +apathy. As far as she could remember, it was the first time in her life +that she had been taken care of instead of taking care, and there was +a momentary relief in the surrender. She swallowed the tea like an +obedient child, allowed a poultice to be applied to her aching chest and +uttered no protest when a fire was kindled in the rarely used grate; but +as Mrs. Hawkins bent over to “settle” her pillows she raised herself on +her elbow to whisper: “Oh, Mrs. Hawkins, Mrs. Hochmuller warn't there.” + The tears rolled down her cheeks. + +“She warn't there? Has she moved?” + +“Over two months ago--and they don't know where she's gone. Oh what'll I +do, Mrs. Hawkins?” + +“There, there, Miss Bunner. You lay still and don't fret. I'll ask Mr. +Hawkins soon as ever he comes home.” + +Ann Eliza murmured her gratitude, and Mrs. Hawkins, bending down, kissed +her on the forehead. “Don't you fret,” she repeated, in the voice with +which she soothed her children. + +For over a week Ann Eliza lay in bed, faithfully nursed by her two +neighbours, while the weak-eyed child, and the pale sewing girl who +had helped to finish Evelina's wedding dress, took turns in minding the +shop. Every morning, when her friends appeared, Ann Eliza lifted her +head to ask: “Is there a letter?” and at their gentle negative sank back +in silence. Mrs. Hawkins, for several days, spoke no more of her promise +to consult her husband as to the best way of tracing Mrs. Hochmuller; +and dread of fresh disappointment kept Ann Eliza from bringing up the +subject. + +But the following Sunday evening, as she sat for the first time +bolstered up in her rocking-chair near the stove, while Miss Mellins +studied the Police Gazette beneath the lamp, there came a knock on the +shop-door and Mr. Hawkins entered. + +Ann Eliza's first glance at his plain friendly face showed her he had +news to give, but though she no longer attempted to hide her anxiety +from Miss Mellins, her lips trembled too much to let her speak. + +“Good evening, Miss Bunner,” said Mr. Hawkins in his dragging voice. +“I've been over to Hoboken all day looking round for Mrs. Hochmuller.” + +“Oh, Mr. Hawkins--you HAVE?” + +“I made a thorough search, but I'm sorry to say it was no use. She's +left Hoboken--moved clear away, and nobody seems to know where.” + +“It was real good of you, Mr. Hawkins.” Ann Eliza's voice struggled up +in a faint whisper through the submerging tide of her disappointment. + +Mr. Hawkins, in his embarrassed sense of being the bringer of bad news, +stood before her uncertainly; then he turned to go. “No trouble at all,” + he paused to assure her from the doorway. + +She wanted to speak again, to detain him, to ask him to advise her; but +the words caught in her throat and she lay back silent. + +The next day she got up early, and dressed and bonneted herself with +twitching fingers. She waited till the weak-eyed child appeared, and +having laid on her minute instructions as to the care of the shop, she +slipped out into the street. It had occurred to her in one of the weary +watches of the previous night that she might go to Tiffany's and make +enquiries about Ramy's past. Possibly in that way she might obtain some +information that would suggest a new way of reaching Evelina. She was +guiltily aware that Mrs. Hawkins and Miss Mellins would be angry with +her for venturing out of doors, but she knew she should never feel any +better till she had news of Evelina. + +The morning air was sharp, and as she turned to face the wind she felt +so weak and unsteady that she wondered if she should ever get as far +as Union Square; but by walking very slowly, and standing still now and +then when she could do so without being noticed, she found herself at +last before the jeweller's great glass doors. + +It was still so early that there were no purchasers in the shop, and +she felt herself the centre of innumerable unemployed eyes as she moved +forward between long lines of show-cases glittering with diamonds and +silver. + +She was glancing about in the hope of finding the clock-department +without having to approach one of the impressive gentlemen who paced +the empty aisles, when she attracted the attention of one of the most +impressive of the number. + +The formidable benevolence with which he enquired what he could do +for her made her almost despair of explaining herself; but she finally +disentangled from a flurry of wrong beginnings the request to be shown +to the clock-department. + +The gentleman considered her thoughtfully. “May I ask what style of +clock you are looking for? Would it be for a wedding-present, or--?” + +The irony of the allusion filled Ann Eliza's veins with sudden strength. +“I don't want to buy a clock at all. I want to see the head of the +department.” + +“Mr. Loomis?” His stare still weighed her--then he seemed to brush aside +the problem she presented as beneath his notice. “Oh, certainly. Take +the elevator to the second floor. Next aisle to the left.” He waved her +down the endless perspective of show-cases. + +Ann Eliza followed the line of his lordly gesture, and a swift ascent +brought her to a great hall full of the buzzing and booming of thousands +of clocks. Whichever way she looked, clocks stretched away from her in +glittering interminable vistas: clocks of all sizes and voices, from the +bell-throated giant of the hallway to the chirping dressing-table toy; +tall clocks of mahogany and brass with cathedral chimes; clocks +of bronze, glass, porcelain, of every possible size, voice and +configuration; and between their serried ranks, along the polished +floor of the aisles, moved the languid forms of other gentlemanly +floor-walkers, waiting for their duties to begin. + +One of them soon approached, and Ann Eliza repeated her request. He +received it affably. + +“Mr. Loomis? Go right down to the office at the other end.” He pointed +to a kind of box of ground glass and highly polished panelling. + +As she thanked him he turned to one of his companions and said something +in which she caught the name of Mr. Loomis, and which was received with +an appreciative chuckle. She suspected herself of being the object of +the pleasantry, and straightened her thin shoulders under her mantle. + +The door of the office stood open, and within sat a gray-bearded man at +a desk. He looked up kindly, and again she asked for Mr. Loomis. + +“I'm Mr. Loomis. What can I do for you?” + +He was much less portentous than the others, though she guessed him +to be above them in authority; and encouraged by his tone she seated +herself on the edge of the chair he waved her to. + +“I hope you'll excuse my troubling you, sir. I came to ask if you could +tell me anything about Mr. Herman Ramy. He was employed here in the +clock-department two or three years ago.” + +Mr. Loomis showed no recognition of the name. + +“Ramy? When was he discharged?” + +“I don't har'ly know. He was very sick, and when he got well his place +had been filled. He married my sister last October and they went to St. +Louis, I ain't had any news of them for over two months, and she's my +only sister, and I'm most crazy worrying about her.” + +“I see.” Mr. Loomis reflected. “In what capacity was Ramy employed +here?” he asked after a moment. + +“He--he told us that he was one of the heads of the clock-department,” + Ann Eliza stammered, overswept by a sudden doubt. + +“That was probably a slight exaggeration. But I can tell you about him +by referring to our books. The name again?” + +“Ramy--Herman Ramy.” + +There ensued a long silence, broken only by the flutter of leaves as +Mr. Loomis turned over his ledgers. Presently he looked up, keeping his +finger between the pages. + +“Here it is--Herman Ramy. He was one of our ordinary workmen, and left +us three years and a half ago last June.” + +“On account of sickness?” Ann Eliza faltered. + +Mr. Loomis appeared to hesitate; then he said: “I see no mention of +sickness.” Ann Eliza felt his compassionate eyes on her again. “Perhaps +I'd better tell you the truth. He was discharged for drug-taking. A +capable workman, but we couldn't keep him straight. I'm sorry to have to +tell you this, but it seems fairer, since you say you're anxious about +your sister.” + +The polished sides of the office vanished from Ann Eliza's sight, and +the cackle of the innumerable clocks came to her like the yell of waves +in a storm. She tried to speak but could not; tried to get to her feet, +but the floor was gone. + +“I'm very sorry,” Mr. Loomis repeated, closing the ledger. “I remember +the man perfectly now. He used to disappear every now and then, and turn +up again in a state that made him useless for days.” + +As she listened, Ann Eliza recalled the day when she had come on Mr. +Ramy sitting in abject dejection behind his counter. She saw again the +blurred unrecognizing eyes he had raised to her, the layer of dust +over everything in the shop, and the green bronze clock in the window +representing a Newfoundland dog with his paw on a book. She stood up +slowly. + +“Thank you. I'm sorry to have troubled you.” + +“It was no trouble. You say Ramy married your sister last October?” + +“Yes, sir; and they went to St. Louis right afterward. I don't know how +to find her. I thought maybe somebody here might know about him.” + +“Well, possibly some of the workmen might. Leave me your name and I'll +send you word if I get on his track.” + +He handed her a pencil, and she wrote down her address; then she walked +away blindly between the clocks. + + + + +XI + + +Mr. Loomis, true to his word, wrote a few days later that he had +enquired in vain in the work-shop for any news of Ramy; and as she +folded this letter and laid it between the leaves of her Bible, Ann +Eliza felt that her last hope was gone. Miss Mellins, of course, had +long since suggested the mediation of the police, and cited from her +favourite literature convincing instances of the supernatural ability of +the Pinkerton detective; but Mr. Hawkins, when called in council, dashed +this project by remarking that detectives cost something like twenty +dollars a day; and a vague fear of the law, some half-formed vision of +Evelina in the clutch of a blue-coated “officer,” kept Ann Eliza from +invoking the aid of the police. + +After the arrival of Mr. Loomis's note the weeks followed each other +uneventfully. Ann Eliza's cough clung to her till late in the spring, +the reflection in her looking-glass grew more bent and meagre, and her +forehead sloped back farther toward the twist of hair that was fastened +above her parting by a comb of black India-rubber. + +Toward spring a lady who was expecting a baby took up her abode at the +Mendoza Family Hotel, and through the friendly intervention of Miss +Mellins the making of some of the baby-clothes was entrusted to Ann +Eliza. This eased her of anxiety for the immediate future; but she had +to rouse herself to feel any sense of relief. Her personal welfare was +what least concerned her. Sometimes she thought of giving up the shop +altogether; and only the fear that, if she changed her address, Evelina +might not be able to find her, kept her from carrying out this plan. + +Since she had lost her last hope of tracing her sister, all the +activities of her lonely imagination had been concentrated on the +possibility of Evelina's coming back to her. The discovery of Ramy's +secret filled her with dreadful fears. In the solitude of the shop +and the back room she was tortured by vague pictures of Evelina's +sufferings. What horrors might not be hidden beneath her silence? Ann +Eliza's great dread was that Miss Mellins should worm out of her what +she had learned from Mr. Loomis. She was sure Miss Mellins must have +abominable things to tell about drug-fiends--things she did not have +the strength to hear. “Drug-fiend”--the very word was Satanic; she +could hear Miss Mellins roll it on her tongue. But Ann Eliza's own +imagination, left to itself, had begun to people the long hours with +evil visions. Sometimes, in the night, she thought she heard herself +called: the voice was her sister's, but faint with a nameless terror. +Her most peaceful moments were those in which she managed to convince +herself that Evelina was dead. She thought of her then, mournfully but +more calmly, as thrust away under the neglected mound of some unknown +cemetery, where no headstone marked her name, no mourner with flowers +for another grave paused in pity to lay a blossom on hers. But this +vision did not often give Ann Eliza its negative relief; and always, +beneath its hazy lines, lurked the dark conviction that Evelina was +alive, in misery and longing for her. + +So the summer wore on. Ann Eliza was conscious that Mrs. Hawkins and +Miss Mellins were watching her with affectionate anxiety, but the +knowledge brought no comfort. She no longer cared what they felt or +thought about her. Her grief lay far beyond touch of human healing, and +after a while she became aware that they knew they could not help her. +They still came in as often as their busy lives permitted, but their +visits grew shorter, and Mrs. Hawkins always brought Arthur or the baby, +so that there should be something to talk about, and some one whom she +could scold. + +The autumn came, and the winter. Business had fallen off again, and but +few purchasers came to the little shop in the basement. In January Ann +Eliza pawned her mother's cashmere scarf, her mosaic brooch, and the +rosewood what-not on which the clock had always stood; she would +have sold the bedstead too, but for the persistent vision of Evelina +returning weak and weary, and not knowing where to lay her head. + +The winter passed in its turn, and March reappeared with its galaxies of +yellow jonquils at the windy street corners, reminding Ann Eliza of the +spring day when Evelina had come home with a bunch of jonquils in her +hand. In spite of the flowers which lent such a premature brightness to +the streets the month was fierce and stormy, and Ann Eliza could get +no warmth into her bones. Nevertheless, she was insensibly beginning to +take up the healing routine of life. Little by little she had grown used +to being alone, she had begun to take a languid interest in the one or +two new purchasers the season had brought, and though the thought +of Evelina was as poignant as ever, it was less persistently in the +foreground of her mind. + +Late one afternoon she was sitting behind the counter, wrapped in her +shawl, and wondering how soon she might draw down the blinds and retreat +into the comparative cosiness of the back room. She was not thinking of +anything in particular, except perhaps in a hazy way of the lady with +the puffed sleeves, who after her long eclipse had reappeared the day +before in sleeves of a new cut, and bought some tape and needles. The +lady still wore mourning, but she was evidently lightening it, and Ann +Eliza saw in this the hope of future orders. The lady had left the shop +about an hour before, walking away with her graceful step toward Fifth +Avenue. She had wished Ann Eliza good day in her usual affable way, and +Ann Eliza thought how odd it was that they should have been acquainted +so long, and yet that she should not know the lady's name. From this +consideration her mind wandered to the cut of the lady's new sleeves, +and she was vexed with herself for not having noted it more carefully. +She felt Miss Mellins might have liked to know about it. Ann Eliza's +powers of observation had never been as keen as Evelina's, when the +latter was not too self-absorbed to exert them. As Miss Mellins always +said, Evelina could “take patterns with her eyes”: she could have cut +that new sleeve out of a folded newspaper in a trice! Musing on these +things, Ann Eliza wished the lady would come back and give her another +look at the sleeve. It was not unlikely that she might pass that way, +for she certainly lived in or about the Square. Suddenly Ann Eliza +remarked a small neat handkerchief on the counter: it must have dropped +from the lady's purse, and she would probably come back to get it. Ann +Eliza, pleased at the idea, sat on behind the counter and watched the +darkening street. She always lit the gas as late as possible, keeping +the box of matches at her elbow, so that if any one came she could apply +a quick flame to the gas-jet. At length through the deepening dusk she +distinguished a slim dark figure coming down the steps to the shop. With +a little warmth of pleasure about her heart she reached up to light the +gas. “I do believe I'll ask her name this time,” she thought. She raised +the flame to its full height, and saw her sister standing in the door. + +There she was at last, the poor pale shade of Evelina, her thin face +blanched of its faint pink, the stiff ripples gone from her hair, and a +mantle shabbier than Ann Eliza's drawn about her narrow shoulders. The +glare of the gas beat full on her as she stood and looked at Ann Eliza. + +“Sister--oh, Evelina! I knowed you'd come!” + +Ann Eliza had caught her close with a long moan of triumph. Vague +words poured from her as she laid her cheek against Evelina's--trivial +inarticulate endearments caught from Mrs. Hawkins's long discourses to +her baby. + +For a while Evelina let herself be passively held; then she drew back +from her sister's clasp and looked about the shop. “I'm dead tired. +Ain't there any fire?” she asked. + +“Of course there is!” Ann Eliza, holding her hand fast, drew her into +the back room. She did not want to ask any questions yet: she simply +wanted to feel the emptiness of the room brimmed full again by the one +presence that was warmth and light to her. + +She knelt down before the grate, scraped some bits of coal and kindling +from the bottom of the coal-scuttle, and drew one of the rocking-chairs +up to the weak flame. “There--that'll blaze up in a minute,” she said. +She pressed Evelina down on the faded cushions of the rocking-chair, +and, kneeling beside her, began to rub her hands. + +“You're stone-cold, ain't you? Just sit still and warm yourself while I +run and get the kettle. I've got something you always used to fancy for +supper.” She laid her hand on Evelina's shoulder. “Don't talk--oh, don't +talk yet!” she implored. She wanted to keep that one frail second of +happiness between herself and what she knew must come. + +Evelina, without a word, bent over the fire, stretching her thin hands +to the blaze and watching Ann Eliza fill the kettle and set the supper +table. Her gaze had the dreamy fixity of a half-awakened child's. + +Ann Eliza, with a smile of triumph, brought a slice of custard pie from +the cupboard and put it by her sister's plate. + +“You do like that, don't you? Miss Mellins sent it down to me this +morning. She had her aunt from Brooklyn to dinner. Ain't it funny it +just so happened?” + +“I ain't hungry,” said Evelina, rising to approach the table. + +She sat down in her usual place, looked about her with the same +wondering stare, and then, as of old, poured herself out the first cup +of tea. + +“Where's the what-not gone to?” she suddenly asked. + +Ann Eliza set down the teapot and rose to get a spoon from the cupboard. +With her back to the room she said: “The what-not? Why, you see, dearie, +living here all alone by myself it only made one more thing to dust; so +I sold it.” + +Evelina's eyes were still travelling about the familiar room. Though +it was against all the traditions of the Bunner family to sell any +household possession, she showed no surprise at her sister's answer. + +“And the clock? The clock's gone too.” + +“Oh, I gave that away--I gave it to Mrs. Hawkins. She's kep' awake so +nights with that last baby.” + +“I wish you'd never bought it,” said Evelina harshly. + +Ann Eliza's heart grew faint with fear. Without answering, she crossed +over to her sister's seat and poured her out a second cup of tea. Then +another thought struck her, and she went back to the cupboard and took +out the cordial. In Evelina's absence considerable draughts had been +drawn from it by invalid neighbours; but a glassful of the precious +liquid still remained. + +“Here, drink this right off--it'll warm you up quicker than anything,” + Ann Eliza said. + +Evelina obeyed, and a slight spark of colour came into her cheeks. +She turned to the custard pie and began to eat with a silent voracity +distressing to watch. She did not even look to see what was left for Ann +Eliza. + +“I ain't hungry,” she said at last as she laid down her fork. “I'm only +so dead tired--that's the trouble.” + +“Then you'd better get right into bed. Here's my old plaid +dressing-gown--you remember it, don't you?” Ann Eliza laughed, recalling +Evelina's ironies on the subject of the antiquated garment. With +trembling fingers she began to undo her sister's cloak. The dress +beneath it told a tale of poverty that Ann Eliza dared not pause to +note. She drew it gently off, and as it slipped from Evelina's shoulders +it revealed a tiny black bag hanging on a ribbon about her neck. Evelina +lifted her hand as though to screen the bag from Ann Eliza; and the +elder sister, seeing the gesture, continued her task with lowered eyes. +She undressed Evelina as quickly as she could, and wrapping her in the +plaid dressing-gown put her to bed, and spread her own shawl and her +sister's cloak above the blanket. + +“Where's the old red comfortable?” Evelina asked, as she sank down on +the pillow. + +“The comfortable? Oh, it was so hot and heavy I never used it after you +went--so I sold that too. I never could sleep under much clothes.” + +She became aware that her sister was looking at her more attentively. + +“I guess you've been in trouble too,” Evelina said. + +“Me? In trouble? What do you mean, Evelina?” + +“You've had to pawn the things, I suppose,” Evelina continued in a weary +unmoved tone. “Well, I've been through worse than that. I've been to +hell and back.” + +“Oh, Evelina--don't say it, sister!” Ann Eliza implored, shrinking +from the unholy word. She knelt down and began to rub her sister's feet +beneath the bedclothes. + +“I've been to hell and back--if I AM back,” Evelina repeated. She +lifted her head from the pillow and began to talk with a sudden feverish +volubility. “It began right away, less than a month after we were +married. I've been in hell all that time, Ann Eliza.” She fixed her eyes +with passionate intentness on Ann Eliza's face. “He took opium. I didn't +find it out till long afterward--at first, when he acted so strange, I +thought he drank. But it was worse, much worse than drinking.” + +“Oh, sister, don't say it--don't say it yet! It's so sweet just to have +you here with me again.” + +“I must say it,” Evelina insisted, her flushed face burning with a kind +of bitter cruelty. “You don't know what life's like--you don't know +anything about it--setting here safe all the while in this peaceful +place.” + +“Oh, Evelina--why didn't you write and send for me if it was like that?” + +“That's why I couldn't write. Didn't you guess I was ashamed?” + +“How could you be? Ashamed to write to Ann Eliza?” + +Evelina raised herself on her thin elbow, while Ann Eliza, bending over, +drew a corner of the shawl about her shoulder. + +“Do lay down again. You'll catch your death.” + +“My death? That don't frighten me! You don't know what I've been +through.” And sitting upright in the old mahogany bed, with flushed +cheeks and chattering teeth, and Ann Eliza's trembling arm clasping the +shawl about her neck, Evelina poured out her story. It was a tale +of misery and humiliation so remote from the elder sister's innocent +experiences that much of it was hardly intelligible to her. Evelina's +dreadful familiarity with it all, her fluency about things which Ann +Eliza half-guessed and quickly shuddered back from, seemed even more +alien and terrible than the actual tale she told. It was one thing--and +heaven knew it was bad enough!--to learn that one's sister's husband was +a drug-fiend; it was another, and much worse thing, to learn from that +sister's pallid lips what vileness lay behind the word. + +Evelina, unconscious of any distress but her own, sat upright, shivering +in Ann Eliza's hold, while she piled up, detail by detail, her dreary +narrative. + +“The minute we got out there, and he found the job wasn't as good as he +expected, he changed. At first I thought he was sick--I used to try to +keep him home and nurse him. Then I saw it was something different. +He used to go off for hours at a time, and when he came back his eyes +kinder had a fog over them. Sometimes he didn't har'ly know me, and +when he did he seemed to hate me. Once he hit me here.” She touched her +breast. “Do you remember, Ann Eliza, that time he didn't come to see us +for a week--the time after we all went to Central Park together--and you +and I thought he must be sick?” + +Ann Eliza nodded. + +“Well, that was the trouble--he'd been at it then. But nothing like as +bad. After we'd been out there about a month he disappeared for a whole +week. They took him back at the store, and gave him another chance; but +the second time they discharged him, and he drifted round for ever so +long before he could get another job. We spent all our money and had to +move to a cheaper place. Then he got something to do, but they hardly +paid him anything, and he didn't stay there long. When he found out +about the baby--” + +“The baby?” Ann Eliza faltered. + +“It's dead--it only lived a day. When he found out about it, he got mad, +and said he hadn't any money to pay doctors' bills, and I'd better +write to you to help us. He had an idea you had money hidden away that +I didn't know about.” She turned to her sister with remorseful eyes. “It +was him that made me get that hundred dollars out of you.” + +“Hush, hush. I always meant it for you anyhow.” + +“Yes, but I wouldn't have taken it if he hadn't been at me the whole +time. He used to make me do just what he wanted. Well, when I said I +wouldn't write to you for more money he said I'd better try and earn +some myself. That was when he struck me.... Oh, you don't know what I'm +talking about yet!... I tried to get work at a milliner's, but I was so +sick I couldn't stay. I was sick all the time. I wisht I'd ha' died, Ann +Eliza.” + +“No, no, Evelina.” + +“Yes, I do. It kept getting worse and worse. We pawned the furniture, +and they turned us out because we couldn't pay the rent; and so then we +went to board with Mrs. Hochmuller.” + +Ann Eliza pressed her closer to dissemble her own tremor. “Mrs. +Hochmuller?” + +“Didn't you know she was out there? She moved out a month after we did. +She wasn't bad to me, and I think she tried to keep him straight--but +Linda--” + +“Linda--?” + +“Well, when I kep' getting worse, and he was always off, for days at a +time, the doctor had me sent to a hospital.” + +“A hospital? Sister--sister!” + +“It was better than being with him; and the doctors were real kind to +me. After the baby was born I was very sick and had to stay there a good +while. And one day when I was laying there Mrs. Hochmuller came in as +white as a sheet, and told me him and Linda had gone off together and +taken all her money. That's the last I ever saw of him.” She broke off +with a laugh and began to cough again. + +Ann Eliza tried to persuade her to lie down and sleep, but the rest of +her story had to be told before she could be soothed into consent. After +the news of Ramy's flight she had had brain fever, and had been sent +to another hospital where she stayed a long time--how long she couldn't +remember. Dates and days meant nothing to her in the shapeless ruin of +her life. When she left the hospital she found that Mrs. Hochmuller had +gone too. She was penniless, and had no one to turn to. A lady visitor +at the hospital was kind, and found her a place where she did housework; +but she was so weak they couldn't keep her. Then she got a job as +waitress in a down-town lunch-room, but one day she fainted while she +was handing a dish, and that evening when they paid her they told her +she needn't come again. + +“After that I begged in the streets”--(Ann Eliza's grasp again grew +tight)--“and one afternoon last week, when the matinees was coming out, +I met a man with a pleasant face, something like Mr. Hawkins, and he +stopped and asked me what the trouble was. I told him if he'd give me +five dollars I'd have money enough to buy a ticket back to New York, and +he took a good look at me and said, well, if that was what I wanted he'd +go straight to the station with me and give me the five dollars there. +So he did--and he bought the ticket, and put me in the cars.” + +Evelina sank back, her face a sallow wedge in the white cleft of the +pillow. Ann Eliza leaned over her, and for a long time they held each +other without speaking. + +They were still clasped in this dumb embrace when there was a step in +the shop and Ann Eliza, starting up, saw Miss Mellins in the doorway. + +“My sakes, Miss Bunner! What in the land are you doing? Miss +Evelina--Mrs. Ramy--it ain't you?” + +Miss Mellins's eyes, bursting from their sockets, sprang from Evelina's +pallid face to the disordered supper table and the heap of worn clothes +on the floor; then they turned back to Ann Eliza, who had placed herself +on the defensive between her sister and the dress-maker. + +“My sister Evelina has come back--come back on a visit. She was taken +sick in the cars on the way home--I guess she caught cold--so I made her +go right to bed as soon as ever she got here.” + +Ann Eliza was surprised at the strength and steadiness of her voice. +Fortified by its sound she went on, her eyes on Miss Mellins's baffled +countenance: “Mr. Ramy has gone west on a trip--a trip connected with +his business; and Evelina is going to stay with me till he comes back.” + + + + +XII + + +What measure of belief her explanation of Evelina's return obtained +in the small circle of her friends Ann Eliza did not pause to enquire. +Though she could not remember ever having told a lie before, she adhered +with rigid tenacity to the consequences of her first lapse from truth, +and fortified her original statement with additional details whenever a +questioner sought to take her unawares. + +But other and more serious burdens lay on her startled conscience. For +the first time in her life she dimly faced the awful problem of +the inutility of self-sacrifice. Hitherto she had never thought +of questioning the inherited principles which had guided her life. +Self-effacement for the good of others had always seemed to her both +natural and necessary; but then she had taken it for granted that it +implied the securing of that good. Now she perceived that to refuse the +gifts of life does not ensure their transmission to those for whom they +have been surrendered; and her familiar heaven was unpeopled. She felt +she could no longer trust in the goodness of God, and there was only a +black abyss above the roof of Bunner Sisters. + +But there was little time to brood upon such problems. The care of +Evelina filled Ann Eliza's days and nights. The hastily summoned doctor +had pronounced her to be suffering from pneumonia, and under his care +the first stress of the disease was relieved. But her recovery was only +partial, and long after the doctor's visits had ceased she continued to +lie in bed, too weak to move, and seemingly indifferent to everything +about her. + +At length one evening, about six weeks after her return, she said to her +sister: “I don't feel's if I'd ever get up again.” + +Ann Eliza turned from the kettle she was placing on the stove. She was +startled by the echo the words woke in her own breast. + +“Don't you talk like that, Evelina! I guess you're on'y tired out--and +disheartened.” + +“Yes, I'm disheartened,” Evelina murmured. + +A few months earlier Ann Eliza would have met the confession with a word +of pious admonition; now she accepted it in silence. + +“Maybe you'll brighten up when your cough gets better,” she suggested. + +“Yes--or my cough'll get better when I brighten up,” Evelina retorted +with a touch of her old tartness. + +“Does your cough keep on hurting you jest as much?” + +“I don't see's there's much difference.” + +“Well, I guess I'll get the doctor to come round again,” Ann Eliza said, +trying for the matter-of-course tone in which one might speak of sending +for the plumber or the gas-fitter. + +“It ain't any use sending for the doctor--and who's going to pay him?” + +“I am,” answered the elder sister. “Here's your tea, and a mite of +toast. Don't that tempt you?” + +Already, in the watches of the night, Ann Eliza had been tormented by +that same question--who was to pay the doctor?--and a few days before +she had temporarily silenced it by borrowing twenty dollars of Miss +Mellins. The transaction had cost her one of the bitterest struggles +of her life. She had never borrowed a penny of any one before, and the +possibility of having to do so had always been classed in her mind +among those shameful extremities to which Providence does not let +decent people come. But nowadays she no longer believed in the personal +supervision of Providence; and had she been compelled to steal the money +instead of borrowing it, she would have felt that her conscience was the +only tribunal before which she had to answer. Nevertheless, the actual +humiliation of having to ask for the money was no less bitter; and she +could hardly hope that Miss Mellins would view the case with the +same detachment as herself. Miss Mellins was very kind; but she not +unnaturally felt that her kindness should be rewarded by according +her the right to ask questions; and bit by bit Ann Eliza saw Evelina's +miserable secret slipping into the dress-maker's possession. + +When the doctor came she left him alone with Evelina, busying herself in +the shop that she might have an opportunity of seeing him alone on his +way out. To steady herself she began to sort a trayful of buttons, and +when the doctor appeared she was reciting under her breath: “Twenty-four +horn, two and a half cards fancy pearl...” She saw at once that his look +was grave. + +He sat down on the chair beside the counter, and her mind travelled +miles before he spoke. + +“Miss Bunner, the best thing you can do is to let me get a bed for your +sister at St. Luke's.” + +“The hospital?” + +“Come now, you're above that sort of prejudice, aren't you?” The doctor +spoke in the tone of one who coaxes a spoiled child. “I know how devoted +you are--but Mrs. Ramy can be much better cared for there than here. +You really haven't time to look after her and attend to your business as +well. There'll be no expense, you understand--” + +Ann Eliza made no answer. “You think my sister's going to be sick a good +while, then?” she asked. + +“Well, yes--possibly.” + +“You think she's very sick?” + +“Well, yes. She's very sick.” + +His face had grown still graver; he sat there as though he had never +known what it was to hurry. + +Ann Eliza continued to separate the pearl and horn buttons. Suddenly she +lifted her eyes and looked at him. “Is she going to die?” + +The doctor laid a kindly hand on hers. “We never say that, Miss Bunner. +Human skill works wonders--and at the hospital Mrs. Ramy would have +every chance.” + +“What is it? What's she dying of?” + +The doctor hesitated, seeking to substitute a popular phrase for the +scientific terminology which rose to his lips. + +“I want to know,” Ann Eliza persisted. + +“Yes, of course; I understand. Well, your sister has had a hard +time lately, and there is a complication of causes, resulting in +consumption--rapid consumption. At the hospital--” + +“I'll keep her here,” said Ann Eliza quietly. + +After the doctor had gone she went on for some time sorting the buttons; +then she slipped the tray into its place on a shelf behind the counter +and went into the back room. She found Evelina propped upright against +the pillows, a flush of agitation on her cheeks. Ann Eliza pulled up the +shawl which had slipped from her sister's shoulders. + +“How long you've been! What's he been saying?” + +“Oh, he went long ago--he on'y stopped to give me a prescription. I was +sorting out that tray of buttons. Miss Mellins's girl got them all mixed +up.” + +She felt Evelina's eyes upon her. + +“He must have said something: what was it?” + +“Why, he said you'd have to be careful--and stay in bed--and take this +new medicine he's given you.” + +“Did he say I was going to get well?” + +“Why, Evelina!” + +“What's the use, Ann Eliza? You can't deceive me. I've just been up to +look at myself in the glass; and I saw plenty of 'em in the hospital +that looked like me. They didn't get well, and I ain't going to.” Her +head dropped back. “It don't much matter--I'm about tired. On'y there's +one thing--Ann Eliza--” + +The elder sister drew near to the bed. + +“There's one thing I ain't told you. I didn't want to tell you yet +because I was afraid you might be sorry--but if he says I'm going to +die I've got to say it.” She stopped to cough, and to Ann Eliza it now +seemed as though every cough struck a minute from the hours remaining to +her. + +“Don't talk now--you're tired.” + +“I'll be tireder to-morrow, I guess. And I want you should know. Sit +down close to me--there.” + +Ann Eliza sat down in silence, stroking her shrunken hand. + +“I'm a Roman Catholic, Ann Eliza.” + +“Evelina--oh, Evelina Bunner! A Roman Catholic--YOU? Oh, Evelina, did HE +make you?” + +Evelina shook her head. “I guess he didn't have no religion; he never +spoke of it. But you see Mrs. Hochmuller was a Catholic, and so when I +was sick she got the doctor to send me to a Roman Catholic hospital, +and the sisters was so good to me there--and the priest used to come and +talk to me; and the things he said kep' me from going crazy. He seemed +to make everything easier.” + +“Oh, sister, how could you?” Ann Eliza wailed. She knew little of the +Catholic religion except that “Papists” believed in it--in itself a +sufficient indictment. Her spiritual rebellion had not freed her from +the formal part of her religious belief, and apostasy had always seemed +to her one of the sins from which the pure in mind avert their thoughts. + +“And then when the baby was born,” Evelina continued, “he christened it +right away, so it could go to heaven; and after that, you see, I had to +be a Catholic.” + +“I don't see--” + +“Don't I have to be where the baby is? I couldn't ever ha' gone there if +I hadn't been made a Catholic. Don't you understand that?” + +Ann Eliza sat speechless, drawing her hand away. Once more she +found herself shut out of Evelina's heart, an exile from her closest +affections. + +“I've got to go where the baby is,” Evelina feverishly insisted. + +Ann Eliza could think of nothing to say; she could only feel that +Evelina was dying, and dying as a stranger in her arms. Ramy and the +day-old baby had parted her forever from her sister. + +Evelina began again. “If I get worse I want you to send for a priest. +Miss Mellins'll know where to send--she's got an aunt that's a Catholic. +Promise me faithful you will.” + +“I promise,” said Ann Eliza. + +After that they spoke no more of the matter; but Ann Eliza now +understood that the little black bag about her sister's neck, which +she had innocently taken for a memento of Ramy, was some kind of +sacrilegious amulet, and her fingers shrank from its contact when she +bathed and dressed Evelina. It seemed to her the diabolical instrument +of their estrangement. + + + + +XIII + + +Spring had really come at last. There were leaves on the ailanthus-tree +that Evelina could see from her bed, gentle clouds floated over it in +the blue, and now and then the cry of a flower-seller sounded from the +street. + +One day there was a shy knock on the back-room door, and Johnny Hawkins +came in with two yellow jonquils in his fist. He was getting bigger and +squarer, and his round freckled face was growing into a smaller copy of +his father's. He walked up to Evelina and held out the flowers. + +“They blew off the cart and the fellow said I could keep 'em. But you +can have 'em,” he announced. + +Ann Eliza rose from her seat at the sewing-machine and tried to take the +flowers from him. + +“They ain't for you; they're for her,” he sturdily objected; and Evelina +held out her hand for the jonquils. + +After Johnny had gone she lay and looked at them without speaking. Ann +Eliza, who had gone back to the machine, bent her head over the seam she +was stitching; the click, click, click of the machine sounded in her ear +like the tick of Ramy's clock, and it seemed to her that life had gone +backward, and that Evelina, radiant and foolish, had just come into the +room with the yellow flowers in her hand. + +When at last she ventured to look up, she saw that her sister's head +had drooped against the pillow, and that she was sleeping quietly. Her +relaxed hand still held the jonquils, but it was evident that they had +awakened no memories; she had dozed off almost as soon as Johnny had +given them to her. The discovery gave Ann Eliza a startled sense of the +ruins that must be piled upon her past. “I don't believe I could have +forgotten that day, though,” she said to herself. But she was glad that +Evelina had forgotten. + +Evelina's disease moved on along the usual course, now lifting her on a +brief wave of elation, now sinking her to new depths of weakness. +There was little to be done, and the doctor came only at lengthening +intervals. On his way out he always repeated his first friendly +suggestion about sending Evelina to the hospital; and Ann Eliza always +answered: “I guess we can manage.” + +The hours passed for her with the fierce rapidity that great joy or +anguish lends them. She went through the days with a sternly smiling +precision, but she hardly knew what was happening, and when night-fall +released her from the shop, and she could carry her work to Evelina's +bedside, the same sense of unreality accompanied her, and she still +seemed to be accomplishing a task whose object had escaped her memory. + +Once, when Evelina felt better, she expressed a desire to make some +artificial flowers, and Ann Eliza, deluded by this awakening interest, +got out the faded bundles of stems and petals and the little tools and +spools of wire. But after a few minutes the work dropped from Evelina's +hands and she said: “I'll wait until to-morrow.” + +She never again spoke of the flower-making, but one day, after watching +Ann Eliza's laboured attempt to trim a spring hat for Mrs. Hawkins, she +demanded impatiently that the hat should be brought to her, and in a +trice had galvanized the lifeless bow and given the brim the twist it +needed. + +These were rare gleams; and more frequent were the days of speechless +lassitude, when she lay for hours silently staring at the window, shaken +only by the hard incessant cough that sounded to Ann Eliza like the +hammering of nails into a coffin. + +At length one morning Ann Eliza, starting up from the mattress at the +foot of the bed, hastily called Miss Mellins down, and ran through the +smoky dawn for the doctor. He came back with her and did what he could +to give Evelina momentary relief; then he went away, promising to +look in again before night. Miss Mellins, her head still covered with +curl-papers, disappeared in his wake, and when the sisters were alone +Evelina beckoned to Ann Eliza. + +“You promised,” she whispered, grasping her sister's arm; and Ann Eliza +understood. She had not yet dared to tell Miss Mellins of Evelina's +change of faith; it had seemed even more difficult than borrowing the +money; but now it had to be done. She ran upstairs after the dress-maker +and detained her on the landing. + +“Miss Mellins, can you tell me where to send for a priest--a Roman +Catholic priest?” + +“A priest, Miss Bunner?” + +“Yes. My sister became a Roman Catholic while she was away. They were +kind to her in her sickness--and now she wants a priest.” Ann Eliza +faced Miss Mellins with unflinching eyes. + +“My aunt Dugan'll know. I'll run right round to her the minute I get my +papers off,” the dress-maker promised; and Ann Eliza thanked her. + +An hour or two later the priest appeared. Ann Eliza, who was watching, +saw him coming down the steps to the shop-door and went to meet him. His +expression was kind, but she shrank from his peculiar dress, and from +his pale face with its bluish chin and enigmatic smile. Ann Eliza +remained in the shop. Miss Mellins's girl had mixed the buttons again +and she set herself to sort them. The priest stayed a long time with +Evelina. When he again carried his enigmatic smile past the counter, and +Ann Eliza rejoined her sister, Evelina was smiling with something of the +same mystery; but she did not tell her secret. + +After that it seemed to Ann Eliza that the shop and the back room no +longer belonged to her. It was as though she were there on sufferance, +indulgently tolerated by the unseen power which hovered over Evelina +even in the absence of its minister. The priest came almost daily; and +at last a day arrived when he was called to administer some rite of +which Ann Eliza but dimly grasped the sacramental meaning. All she knew +was that it meant that Evelina was going, and going, under this alien +guidance, even farther from her than to the dark places of death. + +When the priest came, with something covered in his hands, she crept +into the shop, closing the door of the back room to leave him alone with +Evelina. + +It was a warm afternoon in May, and the crooked ailanthus-tree rooted in +a fissure of the opposite pavement was a fountain of tender green. Women +in light dresses passed with the languid step of spring; and presently +there came a man with a hand-cart full of pansy and geranium plants who +stopped outside the window, signalling to Ann Eliza to buy. + +An hour went by before the door of the back room opened and the priest +reappeared with that mysterious covered something in his hands. Ann +Eliza had risen, drawing back as he passed. He had doubtless divined her +antipathy, for he had hitherto only bowed in going in and out; but to +day he paused and looked at her compassionately. + +“I have left your sister in a very beautiful state of mind,” he said in +a low voice like a woman's. “She is full of spiritual consolation.” + +Ann Eliza was silent, and he bowed and went out. She hastened back to +Evelina's bed, and knelt down beside it. Evelina's eyes were very +large and bright; she turned them on Ann Eliza with a look of inner +illumination. + +“I shall see the baby,” she said; then her eyelids fell and she dozed. + +The doctor came again at nightfall, administering some last palliatives; +and after he had gone Ann Eliza, refusing to have her vigil shared by +Miss Mellins or Mrs. Hawkins, sat down to keep watch alone. + +It was a very quiet night. Evelina never spoke or opened her eyes, +but in the still hour before dawn Ann Eliza saw that the restless hand +outside the bed-clothes had stopped its twitching. She stooped over and +felt no breath on her sister's lips. + + +The funeral took place three days later. Evelina was buried in +Calvary Cemetery, the priest assuming the whole care of the necessary +arrangements, while Ann Eliza, a passive spectator, beheld with stony +indifference this last negation of her past. + +A week afterward she stood in her bonnet and mantle in the doorway of +the little shop. Its whole aspect had changed. Counter and shelves were +bare, the window was stripped of its familiar miscellany of artificial +flowers, note-paper, wire hat-frames, and limp garments from the dyer's; +and against the glass pane of the doorway hung a sign: “This store to +let.” + +Ann Eliza turned her eyes from the sign as she went out and locked the +door behind her. Evelina's funeral had been very expensive, and Ann +Eliza, having sold her stock-in-trade and the few articles of furniture +that remained to her, was leaving the shop for the last time. She had +not been able to buy any mourning, but Miss Mellins had sewed some crape +on her old black mantle and bonnet, and having no gloves she slipped her +bare hands under the folds of the mantle. + +It was a beautiful morning, and the air was full of a warm sunshine that +had coaxed open nearly every window in the street, and summoned to the +window-sills the sickly plants nurtured indoors in winter. Ann Eliza's +way lay westward, toward Broadway; but at the corner she paused and +looked back down the familiar length of the street. Her eyes rested a +moment on the blotched “Bunner Sisters” above the empty window of the +shop; then they travelled on to the overflowing foliage of the Square, +above which was the church tower with the dial that had marked the hours +for the sisters before Ann Eliza had bought the nickel clock. She looked +at it all as though it had been the scene of some unknown life, of which +the vague report had reached her: she felt for herself the only remote +pity that busy people accord to the misfortunes which come to them by +hearsay. + +She walked to Broadway and down to the office of the house-agent to whom +she had entrusted the sub-letting of the shop. She left the key with +one of his clerks, who took it from her as if it had been any one of a +thousand others, and remarked that the weather looked as if spring +was really coming; then she turned and began to move up the great +thoroughfare, which was just beginning to wake to its multitudinous +activities. + +She walked less rapidly now, studying each shop window as she passed, +but not with the desultory eye of enjoyment: the watchful fixity of her +gaze overlooked everything but the object of its quest. At length she +stopped before a small window wedged between two mammoth buildings, +and displaying, behind its shining plate-glass festooned with muslin, +a varied assortment of sofa-cushions, tea-cloths, pen-wipers, painted +calendars and other specimens of feminine industry. In a corner of +the window she had read, on a slip of paper pasted against the pane: +“Wanted, a Saleslady,” and after studying the display of fancy articles +beneath it, she gave her mantle a twitch, straightened her shoulders and +went in. + +Behind a counter crowded with pin-cushions, watch-holders and other +needlework trifles, a plump young woman with smooth hair sat sewing bows +of ribbon on a scrap basket. The little shop was about the size of the +one on which Ann Eliza had just closed the door; and it looked as fresh +and gay and thriving as she and Evelina had once dreamed of making +Bunner Sisters. The friendly air of the place made her pluck up courage +to speak. + +“Saleslady? Yes, we do want one. Have you any one to recommend?” the +young woman asked, not unkindly. + +Ann Eliza hesitated, disconcerted by the unexpected question; and the +other, cocking her head on one side to study the effect of the bow she +had just sewed on the basket, continued: “We can't afford more than +thirty dollars a month, but the work is light. She would be expected to +do a little fancy sewing between times. We want a bright girl: stylish, +and pleasant manners. You know what I mean. Not over thirty, anyhow; and +nice-looking. Will you write down the name?” + +Ann Eliza looked at her confusedly. She opened her lips to explain, and +then, without speaking, turned toward the crisply-curtained door. + +“Ain't you going to leave the AD-dress?” the young woman called out +after her. Ann Eliza went out into the thronged street. The great city, +under the fair spring sky, seemed to throb with the stir of innumerable +beginnings. She walked on, looking for another shop window with a sign +in it. + + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Bunner Sisters, by Edith Wharton + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BUNNER SISTERS *** + +***** This file should be named 311-0.txt or 311-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/311/ + +Produced by Judith Boss + +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. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/311-0.zip b/311-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..53f7fcf --- /dev/null +++ b/311-0.zip diff --git a/311-h.zip b/311-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c59ae99 --- /dev/null +++ b/311-h.zip diff --git a/311-h/311-h.htm b/311-h/311-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c9db989 --- /dev/null +++ b/311-h/311-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4707 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + Bunner Sisters, by Edith Wharton + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} +.smcap {font-variant:small-caps;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Bunner Sisters, by Edith Wharton + +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: Bunner Sisters + +Author: Edith Wharton + +Release Date: July 1, 2008 [EBook #311] +Last Updated: March 8, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BUNNER SISTERS *** + + + + +Produced by Judith Boss and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + BUNNER SISTERS + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Edith Wharton + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h4> + Scribner's Magazine<br /> 60 (Oct. 1916): 439-58;<br /> 60 (Nov. 1916): + 575-96. + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART1"> <big><b>PART I</b></big> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VII </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART"> <big><b>PART II</b></big> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> XIII </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PART1" id="link2H_PART1"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + PART I + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I + </h2> + <p> + In the days when New York's traffic moved at the pace of the drooping + horse-car, when society applauded Christine Nilsson at the Academy of + Music and basked in the sunsets of the Hudson River School on the walls of + the National Academy of Design, an inconspicuous shop with a single + show-window was intimately and favourably known to the feminine population + of the quarter bordering on Stuyvesant Square. + </p> + <p> + It was a very small shop, in a shabby basement, in a side-street already + doomed to decline; and from the miscellaneous display behind the + window-pane, and the brevity of the sign surmounting it (merely “Bunner + Sisters” in blotchy gold on a black ground) it would have been difficult + for the uninitiated to guess the precise nature of the business carried on + within. But that was of little consequence, since its fame was so purely + local that the customers on whom its existence depended were almost + congenitally aware of the exact range of “goods” to be found at Bunner + Sisters'. + </p> + <p> + The house of which Bunner Sisters had annexed the basement was a private + dwelling with a brick front, green shutters on weak hinges, and a + dress-maker's sign in the window above the shop. On each side of its + modest three stories stood higher buildings, with fronts of brown stone, + cracked and blistered, cast-iron balconies and cat-haunted grass-patches + behind twisted railings. These houses too had once been private, but now a + cheap lunchroom filled the basement of one, while the other announced + itself, above the knotty wistaria that clasped its central balcony, as the + Mendoza Family Hotel. It was obvious from the chronic cluster of + refuse-barrels at its area-gate and the blurred surface of its curtainless + windows, that the families frequenting the Mendoza Hotel were not exacting + in their tastes; though they doubtless indulged in as much fastidiousness + as they could afford to pay for, and rather more than their landlord + thought they had a right to express. + </p> + <p> + These three houses fairly exemplified the general character of the street, + which, as it stretched eastward, rapidly fell from shabbiness to squalor, + with an increasing frequency of projecting sign-boards, and of swinging + doors that softly shut or opened at the touch of red-nosed men and pale + little girls with broken jugs. The middle of the street was full of + irregular depressions, well adapted to retain the long swirls of dust and + straw and twisted paper that the wind drove up and down its sad untended + length; and toward the end of the day, when traffic had been active, the + fissured pavement formed a mosaic of coloured hand-bills, lids of + tomato-cans, old shoes, cigar-stumps and banana skins, cemented together + by a layer of mud, or veiled in a powdering of dust, as the state of the + weather determined. + </p> + <p> + The sole refuge offered from the contemplation of this depressing waste + was the sight of the Bunner Sisters' window. Its panes were always + well-washed, and though their display of artificial flowers, bands of + scalloped flannel, wire hat-frames, and jars of home-made preserves, had + the undefinable greyish tinge of objects long preserved in the show-case + of a museum, the window revealed a background of orderly counters and + white-washed walls in pleasant contrast to the adjoining dinginess. + </p> + <p> + The Bunner sisters were proud of the neatness of their shop and content + with its humble prosperity. It was not what they had once imagined it + would be, but though it presented but a shrunken image of their earlier + ambitions it enabled them to pay their rent and keep themselves alive and + out of debt; and it was long since their hopes had soared higher. + </p> + <p> + Now and then, however, among their greyer hours there came one not bright + enough to be called sunny, but rather of the silvery twilight hue which + sometimes ends a day of storm. It was such an hour that Ann Eliza, the + elder of the firm, was soberly enjoying as she sat one January evening in + the back room which served as bedroom, kitchen and parlour to herself and + her sister Evelina. In the shop the blinds had been drawn down, the + counters cleared and the wares in the window lightly covered with an old + sheet; but the shop-door remained unlocked till Evelina, who had taken a + parcel to the dyer's, should come back. + </p> + <p> + In the back room a kettle bubbled on the stove, and Ann Eliza had laid a + cloth over one end of the centre table, and placed near the green-shaded + sewing lamp two tea-cups, two plates, a sugar-bowl and a piece of pie. The + rest of the room remained in a greenish shadow which discreetly veiled the + outline of an old-fashioned mahogany bedstead surmounted by a chromo of a + young lady in a night-gown who clung with eloquently-rolling eyes to a + crag described in illuminated letters as the Rock of Ages; and against the + unshaded windows two rocking-chairs and a sewing-machine were silhouetted + on the dusk. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, her small and habitually anxious face smoothed to unusual + serenity, and the streaks of pale hair on her veined temples shining + glossily beneath the lamp, had seated herself at the table, and was tying + up, with her usual fumbling deliberation, a knobby object wrapped in + paper. Now and then, as she struggled with the string, which was too + short, she fancied she heard the click of the shop-door, and paused to + listen for her sister; then, as no one came, she straightened her + spectacles and entered into renewed conflict with the parcel. In honour of + some event of obvious importance, she had put on her double-dyed and + triple-turned black silk. Age, while bestowing on this garment a patine + worthy of a Renaissance bronze, had deprived it of whatever curves the + wearer's pre-Raphaelite figure had once been able to impress on it; but + this stiffness of outline gave it an air of sacerdotal state which seemed + to emphasize the importance of the occasion. + </p> + <p> + Seen thus, in her sacramental black silk, a wisp of lace turned over the + collar and fastened by a mosaic brooch, and her face smoothed into harmony + with her apparel, Ann Eliza looked ten years younger than behind the + counter, in the heat and burden of the day. It would have been as + difficult to guess her approximate age as that of the black silk, for she + had the same worn and glossy aspect as her dress; but a faint tinge of + pink still lingered on her cheek-bones, like the reflection of sunset + which sometimes colours the west long after the day is over. + </p> + <p> + When she had tied the parcel to her satisfaction, and laid it with furtive + accuracy just opposite her sister's plate, she sat down, with an air of + obviously-assumed indifference, in one of the rocking-chairs near the + window; and a moment later the shop-door opened and Evelina entered. + </p> + <p> + The younger Bunner sister, who was a little taller than her elder, had a + more pronounced nose, but a weaker slope of mouth and chin. She still + permitted herself the frivolity of waving her pale hair, and its tight + little ridges, stiff as the tresses of an Assyrian statue, were flattened + under a dotted veil which ended at the tip of her cold-reddened nose. In + her scant jacket and skirt of black cashmere she looked singularly nipped + and faded; but it seemed possible that under happier conditions she might + still warm into relative youth. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Ann Eliza,” she exclaimed, in a thin voice pitched to chronic + fretfulness, “what in the world you got your best silk on for?” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza had risen with a blush that made her steel-browed spectacles + incongruous. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Evelina, why shouldn't I, I sh'ld like to know? Ain't it your + birthday, dear?” She put out her arms with the awkwardness of habitually + repressed emotion. + </p> + <p> + Evelina, without seeming to notice the gesture, threw back the jacket from + her narrow shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pshaw,” she said, less peevishly. “I guess we'd better give up + birthdays. Much as we can do to keep Christmas nowadays.” + </p> + <p> + “You hadn't oughter say that, Evelina. We ain't so badly off as all that. + I guess you're cold and tired. Set down while I take the kettle off: it's + right on the boil.” + </p> + <p> + She pushed Evelina toward the table, keeping a sideward eye on her + sister's listless movements, while her own hands were busy with the + kettle. A moment later came the exclamation for which she waited. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Ann Eliza!” Evelina stood transfixed by the sight of the parcel + beside her plate. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, tremulously engaged in filling the teapot, lifted a look of + hypocritical surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Sakes, Evelina! What's the matter?” + </p> + <p> + The younger sister had rapidly untied the string, and drawn from its + wrappings a round nickel clock of the kind to be bought for a + dollar-seventy-five. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Ann Eliza, how could you?” She set the clock down, and the sisters + exchanged agitated glances across the table. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” the elder retorted, “<i>Ain't</i> it your birthday?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, and ain't you had to run round the corner to the Square every + morning, rain or shine, to see what time it was, ever since we had to sell + mother's watch last July? Ain't you, Evelina?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but—” + </p> + <p> + “There ain't any buts. We've always wanted a clock and now we've got one: + that's all there is about it. Ain't she a beauty, Evelina?” Ann Eliza, + putting back the kettle on the stove, leaned over her sister's shoulder to + pass an approving hand over the circular rim of the clock. “Hear how loud + she ticks. I was afraid you'd hear her soon as you come in.” + </p> + <p> + “No. I wasn't thinking,” murmured Evelina. + </p> + <p> + “Well, ain't you glad now?” Ann Eliza gently reproached her. The rebuke + had no acerbity, for she knew that Evelina's seeming indifference was + alive with unexpressed scruples. + </p> + <p> + “I'm real glad, sister; but you hadn't oughter. We could have got on well + enough without.” + </p> + <p> + “Evelina Bunner, just you sit down to your tea. I guess I know what I'd + oughter and what I'd hadn't oughter just as well as you do—I'm old + enough!” + </p> + <p> + “You're real good, Ann Eliza; but I know you've given up something you + needed to get me this clock.” + </p> + <p> + “What do I need, I'd like to know? Ain't I got a best black silk?” the + elder sister said with a laugh full of nervous pleasure. + </p> + <p> + She poured out Evelina's tea, adding some condensed milk from the jug, and + cutting for her the largest slice of pie; then she drew up her own chair + to the table. + </p> + <p> + The two women ate in silence for a few moments before Evelina began to + speak again. “The clock is perfectly lovely and I don't say it ain't a + comfort to have it; but I hate to think what it must have cost you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, it didn't, neither,” Ann Eliza retorted. “I got it dirt cheap, if you + want to know. And I paid for it out of a little extra work I did the other + night on the machine for Mrs. Hawkins.” + </p> + <p> + “The baby-waists?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “There, I knew it! You swore to me you'd buy a new pair of shoes with that + money.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, and s'posin' I didn't want 'em—what then? I've patched up the + old ones as good as new—and I do declare, Evelina Bunner, if you ask + me another question you'll go and spoil all my pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, I won't,” said the younger sister. + </p> + <p> + They continued to eat without farther words. Evelina yielded to her + sister's entreaty that she should finish the pie, and poured out a second + cup of tea, into which she put the last lump of sugar; and between them, + on the table, the clock kept up its sociable tick. + </p> + <p> + “Where'd you get it, Ann Eliza?” asked Evelina, fascinated. + </p> + <p> + “Where'd you s'pose? Why, right round here, over acrost the Square, in the + queerest little store you ever laid eyes on. I saw it in the window as I + was passing, and I stepped right in and asked how much it was, and the + store-keeper he was real pleasant about it. He was just the nicest man. I + guess he's a German. I told him I couldn't give much, and he said, well, + he knew what hard times was too. His name's Ramy—Herman Ramy: I saw + it written up over the store. And he told me he used to work at Tiff'ny's, + oh, for years, in the clock-department, and three years ago he took sick + with some kinder fever, and lost his place, and when he got well they'd + engaged somebody else and didn't want him, and so he started this little + store by himself. I guess he's real smart, and he spoke quite like an + educated man—but he looks sick.” + </p> + <p> + Evelina was listening with absorbed attention. In the narrow lives of the + two sisters such an episode was not to be under-rated. + </p> + <p> + “What you say his name was?” she asked as Ann Eliza paused. + </p> + <p> + “Herman Ramy.” + </p> + <p> + “How old is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I couldn't exactly tell you, he looked so sick—but I don't + b'lieve he's much over forty.” + </p> + <p> + By this time the plates had been cleared and the teapot emptied, and the + two sisters rose from the table. Ann Eliza, tying an apron over her black + silk, carefully removed all traces of the meal; then, after washing the + cups and plates, and putting them away in a cupboard, she drew her + rocking-chair to the lamp and sat down to a heap of mending. Evelina, + meanwhile, had been roaming about the room in search of an abiding-place + for the clock. A rosewood what-not with ornamental fret-work hung on the + wall beside the devout young lady in dishabille, and after much weighing + of alternatives the sisters decided to dethrone a broken china vase filled + with dried grasses which had long stood on the top shelf, and to put the + clock in its place; the vase, after farther consideration, being relegated + to a small table covered with blue and white beadwork, which held a Bible + and prayer-book, and an illustrated copy of Longfellow's poems given as a + school-prize to their father. + </p> + <p> + This change having been made, and the effect studied from every angle of + the room, Evelina languidly put her pinking-machine on the table, and sat + down to the monotonous work of pinking a heap of black silk flounces. The + strips of stuff slid slowly to the floor at her side, and the clock, from + its commanding altitude, kept time with the dispiriting click of the + instrument under her fingers. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II + </h2> + <p> + The purchase of Evelina's clock had been a more important event in the + life of Ann Eliza Bunner than her younger sister could divine. In the + first place, there had been the demoralizing satisfaction of finding + herself in possession of a sum of money which she need not put into the + common fund, but could spend as she chose, without consulting Evelina, and + then the excitement of her stealthy trips abroad, undertaken on the rare + occasions when she could trump up a pretext for leaving the shop; since, + as a rule, it was Evelina who took the bundles to the dyer's, and + delivered the purchases of those among their customers who were too + genteel to be seen carrying home a bonnet or a bundle of pinking—so + that, had it not been for the excuse of having to see Mrs. Hawkins's + teething baby, Ann Eliza would hardly have known what motive to allege for + deserting her usual seat behind the counter. + </p> + <p> + The infrequency of her walks made them the chief events of her life. The + mere act of going out from the monastic quiet of the shop into the tumult + of the streets filled her with a subdued excitement which grew too intense + for pleasure as she was swallowed by the engulfing roar of Broadway or + Third Avenue, and began to do timid battle with their incessant + cross-currents of humanity. After a glance or two into the great + show-windows she usually allowed herself to be swept back into the shelter + of a side-street, and finally regained her own roof in a state of + breathless bewilderment and fatigue; but gradually, as her nerves were + soothed by the familiar quiet of the little shop, and the click of + Evelina's pinking-machine, certain sights and sounds would detach + themselves from the torrent along which she had been swept, and she would + devote the rest of the day to a mental reconstruction of the different + episodes of her walk, till finally it took shape in her thought as a + consecutive and highly-coloured experience, from which, for weeks + afterwards, she would detach some fragmentary recollection in the course + of her long dialogues with her sister. + </p> + <p> + But when, to the unwonted excitement of going out, was added the intenser + interest of looking for a present for Evelina, Ann Eliza's agitation, + sharpened by concealment, actually preyed upon her rest; and it was not + till the present had been given, and she had unbosomed herself of the + experiences connected with its purchase, that she could look back with + anything like composure to that stirring moment of her life. From that day + forward, however, she began to take a certain tranquil pleasure in + thinking of Mr. Ramy's small shop, not unlike her own in its countrified + obscurity, though the layer of dust which covered its counter and shelves + made the comparison only superficially acceptable. Still, she did not + judge the state of the shop severely, for Mr. Ramy had told her that he + was alone in the world, and lone men, she was aware, did not know how to + deal with dust. It gave her a good deal of occupation to wonder why he had + never married, or if, on the other hand, he were a widower, and had lost + all his dear little children; and she scarcely knew which alternative + seemed to make him the more interesting. In either case, his life was + assuredly a sad one; and she passed many hours in speculating on the + manner in which he probably spent his evenings. She knew he lived at the + back of his shop, for she had caught, on entering, a glimpse of a dingy + room with a tumbled bed; and the pervading smell of cold fry suggested + that he probably did his own cooking. She wondered if he did not often + make his tea with water that had not boiled, and asked herself, almost + jealously, who looked after the shop while he went to market. Then it + occurred to her as likely that he bought his provisions at the same market + as Evelina; and she was fascinated by the thought that he and her sister + might constantly be meeting in total unconsciousness of the link between + them. Whenever she reached this stage in her reflexions she lifted a + furtive glance to the clock, whose loud staccato tick was becoming a part + of her inmost being. + </p> + <p> + The seed sown by these long hours of meditation germinated at last in the + secret wish to go to market some morning in Evelina's stead. As this + purpose rose to the surface of Ann Eliza's thoughts she shrank back shyly + from its contemplation. A plan so steeped in duplicity had never before + taken shape in her crystalline soul. How was it possible for her to + consider such a step? And, besides, (she did not possess sufficient logic + to mark the downward trend of this “besides”), what excuse could she make + that would not excite her sister's curiosity? From this second query it + was an easy descent to the third: how soon could she manage to go? + </p> + <p> + It was Evelina herself, who furnished the necessary pretext by awaking + with a sore throat on the day when she usually went to market. It was a + Saturday, and as they always had their bit of steak on Sunday the + expedition could not be postponed, and it seemed natural that Ann Eliza, + as she tied an old stocking around Evelina's throat, should announce her + intention of stepping round to the butcher's. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Ann Eliza, they'll cheat you so,” her sister wailed. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza brushed aside the imputation with a smile, and a few minutes + later, having set the room to rights, and cast a last glance at the shop, + she was tying on her bonnet with fumbling haste. + </p> + <p> + The morning was damp and cold, with a sky full of sulky clouds that would + not make room for the sun, but as yet dropped only an occasional + snow-flake. In the early light the street looked its meanest and most + neglected; but to Ann Eliza, never greatly troubled by any untidiness for + which she was not responsible, it seemed to wear a singularly friendly + aspect. + </p> + <p> + A few minutes' walk brought her to the market where Evelina made her + purchases, and where, if he had any sense of topographical fitness, Mr. + Ramy must also deal. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, making her way through the outskirts of potato-barrels and + flabby fish, found no one in the shop but the gory-aproned butcher who + stood in the background cutting chops. + </p> + <p> + As she approached him across the tesselation of fish-scales, blood and + saw-dust, he laid aside his cleaver and not unsympathetically asked: + “Sister sick?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not very—jest a cold,” she answered, as guiltily as if + Evelina's illness had been feigned. “We want a steak as usual, please—and + my sister said you was to be sure to give me jest as good a cut as if it + was her,” she added with child-like candour. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's all right.” The butcher picked up his weapon with a grin. + “Your sister knows a cut as well as any of us,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + In another moment, Ann Eliza reflected, the steak would be cut and wrapped + up, and no choice left her but to turn her disappointed steps toward home. + She was too shy to try to delay the butcher by such conversational arts as + she possessed, but the approach of a deaf old lady in an antiquated bonnet + and mantle gave her her opportunity. + </p> + <p> + “Wait on her first, please,” Ann Eliza whispered. “I ain't in any hurry.” + </p> + <p> + The butcher advanced to his new customer, and Ann Eliza, palpitating in + the back of the shop, saw that the old lady's hesitations between liver + and pork chops were likely to be indefinitely prolonged. They were still + unresolved when she was interrupted by the entrance of a blowsy Irish girl + with a basket on her arm. The newcomer caused a momentary diversion, and + when she had departed the old lady, who was evidently as intolerant of + interruption as a professional story-teller, insisted on returning to the + beginning of her complicated order, and weighing anew, with an anxious + appeal to the butcher's arbitration, the relative advantages of pork and + liver. But even her hesitations, and the intrusion on them of two or three + other customers, were of no avail, for Mr. Ramy was not among those who + entered the shop; and at last Ann Eliza, ashamed of staying longer, + reluctantly claimed her steak, and walked home through the thickening + snow. + </p> + <p> + Even to her simple judgment the vanity of her hopes was plain, and in the + clear light that disappointment turns upon our actions she wondered how + she could have been foolish enough to suppose that, even if Mr. Ramy <i>did</i> + go to that particular market, he would hit on the same day and hour as + herself. + </p> + <p> + There followed a colourless week unmarked by farther incident. The old + stocking cured Evelina's throat, and Mrs. Hawkins dropped in once or twice + to talk of her baby's teeth; some new orders for pinking were received, + and Evelina sold a bonnet to the lady with puffed sleeves. The lady with + puffed sleeves—a resident of “the Square,” whose name they had never + learned, because she always carried her own parcels home—was the + most distinguished and interesting figure on their horizon. She was + youngish, she was elegant (as the title they had given her implied), and + she had a sweet sad smile about which they had woven many histories; but + even the news of her return to town—it was her first apparition that + year—failed to arouse Ann Eliza's interest. All the small daily + happenings which had once sufficed to fill the hours now appeared to her + in their deadly insignificance; and for the first time in her long years + of drudgery she rebelled at the dullness of her life. With Evelina such + fits of discontent were habitual and openly proclaimed, and Ann Eliza + still excused them as one of the prerogatives of youth. Besides, Evelina + had not been intended by Providence to pine in such a narrow life: in the + original plan of things, she had been meant to marry and have a baby, to + wear silk on Sundays, and take a leading part in a Church circle. Hitherto + opportunity had played her false; and for all her superior aspirations and + carefully crimped hair she had remained as obscure and unsought as Ann + Eliza. But the elder sister, who had long since accepted her own fate, had + never accepted Evelina's. Once a pleasant young man who taught in + Sunday-school had paid the younger Miss Bunner a few shy visits. That was + years since, and he had speedily vanished from their view. Whether he had + carried with him any of Evelina's illusions, Ann Eliza had never + discovered; but his attentions had clad her sister in a halo of exquisite + possibilities. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, in those days, had never dreamed of allowing herself the luxury + of self-pity: it seemed as much a personal right of Evelina's as her + elaborately crinkled hair. But now she began to transfer to herself a + portion of the sympathy she had so long bestowed on Evelina. She had at + last recognized her right to set up some lost opportunities of her own; + and once that dangerous precedent established, they began to crowd upon + her memory. + </p> + <p> + It was at this stage of Ann Eliza's transformation that Evelina, looking + up one evening from her work, said suddenly: “My! She's stopped.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, raising her eyes from a brown merino seam, followed her + sister's glance across the room. It was a Monday, and they always wound + the clock on Sundays. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure you wound her yesterday, Evelina?” + </p> + <p> + “Jest as sure as I live. She must be broke. I'll go and see.” + </p> + <p> + Evelina laid down the hat she was trimming, and took the clock from its + shelf. + </p> + <p> + “There—I knew it! She's wound jest as <i>tight</i>—what you suppose's + happened to her, Ann Eliza?” + </p> + <p> + “I dunno, I'm sure,” said the elder sister, wiping her spectacles before + proceeding to a close examination of the clock. + </p> + <p> + With anxiously bent heads the two women shook and turned it, as though + they were trying to revive a living thing; but it remained unresponsive to + their touch, and at length Evelina laid it down with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Seems like somethin' <i>dead</i>, don't it, Ann Eliza? How still the room is!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll put her back where she belongs,” Evelina continued, in the + tone of one about to perform the last offices for the departed. “And I + guess,” she added, “you'll have to step round to Mr. Ramy's to-morrow, and + see if he can fix her.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza's face burned. “I—yes, I guess I'll have to,” she + stammered, stooping to pick up a spool of cotton which had rolled to the + floor. A sudden heart-throb stretched the seams of her flat alpaca bosom, + and a pulse leapt to life in each of her temples. + </p> + <p> + That night, long after Evelina slept, Ann Eliza lay awake in the + unfamiliar silence, more acutely conscious of the nearness of the crippled + clock than when it had volubly told out the minutes. The next morning she + woke from a troubled dream of having carried it to Mr. Ramy's, and found + that he and his shop had vanished; and all through the day's occupations + the memory of this dream oppressed her. + </p> + <p> + It had been agreed that Ann Eliza should take the clock to be repaired as + soon as they had dined; but while they were still at table a weak-eyed + little girl in a black apron stabbed with innumerable pins burst in on + them with the cry: “Oh, Miss Bunner, for mercy's sake! Miss Mellins has + been took again.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Mellins was the dress-maker upstairs, and the weak-eyed child one of + her youthful apprentices. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza started from her seat. “I'll come at once. Quick, Evelina, the + cordial!” + </p> + <p> + By this euphemistic name the sisters designated a bottle of cherry brandy, + the last of a dozen inherited from their grandmother, which they kept + locked in their cupboard against such emergencies. A moment later, cordial + in hand, Ann Eliza was hurrying upstairs behind the weak-eyed child. + </p> + <p> + Miss Mellins' “turn” was sufficiently serious to detain Ann Eliza for + nearly two hours, and dusk had fallen when she took up the depleted bottle + of cordial and descended again to the shop. It was empty, as usual, and + Evelina sat at her pinking-machine in the back room. Ann Eliza was still + agitated by her efforts to restore the dress-maker, but in spite of her + preoccupation she was struck, as soon as she entered, by the loud tick of + the clock, which still stood on the shelf where she had left it. + </p> + <p> + “Why, she's going!” she gasped, before Evelina could question her about + Miss Mellins. “Did she start up again by herself?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no; but I couldn't stand not knowing what time it was, I've got so + accustomed to having her round; and just after you went upstairs Mrs. + Hawkins dropped in, so I asked her to tend the store for a minute, and I + clapped on my things and ran right round to Mr. Ramy's. It turned out + there wasn't anything the matter with her—nothin' on'y a speck of + dust in the works—and he fixed her for me in a minute and I brought + her right back. Ain't it lovely to hear her going again? But tell me about + Miss Mellins, quick!” + </p> + <p> + For a moment Ann Eliza found no words. Not till she learned that she had + missed her chance did she understand how many hopes had hung upon it. Even + now she did not know why she had wanted so much to see the clock-maker + again. + </p> + <p> + “I s'pose it's because nothing's ever happened to me,” she thought, with a + twinge of envy for the fate which gave Evelina every opportunity that came + their way. “She had the Sunday-school teacher too,” Ann Eliza murmured to + herself; but she was well-trained in the arts of renunciation, and after a + scarcely perceptible pause she plunged into a detailed description of the + dress-maker's “turn.” + </p> + <p> + Evelina, when her curiosity was roused, was an insatiable questioner, and + it was supper-time before she had come to the end of her enquiries about + Miss Mellins; but when the two sisters had seated themselves at their + evening meal Ann Eliza at last found a chance to say: “So she on'y had a + speck of dust in her.” + </p> + <p> + Evelina understood at once that the reference was not to Miss Mellins. + “Yes—at least he thinks so,” she answered, helping herself as a + matter of course to the first cup of tea. + </p> + <p> + “On'y to think!” murmured Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “But he isn't <i>sure</i>,” Evelina continued, absently pushing the teapot toward + her sister. “It may be something wrong with the—I forget what he + called it. Anyhow, he said he'd call round and see, day after to-morrow, + after supper.” + </p> + <p> + “Who said?” gasped Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Mr. Ramy, of course. I think he's real nice, Ann Eliza. And I don't + believe he's forty; but he <i>does</i> look sick. I guess he's pretty lonesome, + all by himself in that store. He as much as told me so, and somehow”—Evelina + paused and bridled—“I kinder thought that maybe his saying he'd call + round about the clock was on'y just an excuse. He said it just as I was + going out of the store. What you think, Ann Eliza?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't har'ly know.” To save herself, Ann Eliza could produce + nothing warmer. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't pretend to be smarter than other folks,” said Evelina, + putting a conscious hand to her hair, “but I guess Mr. Herman Ramy + wouldn't be sorry to pass an evening here, 'stead of spending it all alone + in that poky little place of his.” + </p> + <p> + Her self-consciousness irritated Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “I guess he's got plenty of friends of his own,” she said, almost harshly. + </p> + <p> + “No, he ain't, either. He's got hardly any.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he tell you that too?” Even to her own ears there was a faint sneer + in the interrogation. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he did,” said Evelina, dropping her lids with a smile. “He seemed to + be just crazy to talk to somebody—somebody agreeable, I mean. I + think the man's unhappy, Ann Eliza.” + </p> + <p> + “So do I,” broke from the elder sister. + </p> + <p> + “He seems such an educated man, too. He was reading the paper when I went + in. Ain't it sad to think of his being reduced to that little store, after + being years at Tiff'ny's, and one of the head men in their + clock-department?” + </p> + <p> + “He told you all that?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes. I think he'd a' told me everything ever happened to him if I'd + had the time to stay and listen. I tell you he's dead lonely, Ann Eliza.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III + </h2> + <p> + Two days afterward, Ann Eliza noticed that Evelina, before they sat down + to supper, pinned a crimson bow under her collar; and when the meal was + finished the younger sister, who seldom concerned herself with the + clearing of the table, set about with nervous haste to help Ann Eliza in + the removal of the dishes. + </p> + <p> + “I hate to see food mussing about,” she grumbled. “Ain't it hateful having + to do everything in one room?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Evelina, I've always thought we was so comfortable,” Ann Eliza + protested. + </p> + <p> + “Well, so we are, comfortable enough; but I don't suppose there's any harm + in my saying I wisht we had a parlour, is there? Anyway, we might manage + to buy a screen to hide the bed.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza coloured. There was something vaguely embarrassing in Evelina's + suggestion. + </p> + <p> + “I always think if we ask for more what we have may be taken from us,” she + ventured. + </p> + <p> + “Well, whoever took it wouldn't get much,” Evelina retorted with a laugh + as she swept up the table-cloth. + </p> + <p> + A few moments later the back room was in its usual flawless order and the + two sisters had seated themselves near the lamp. Ann Eliza had taken up + her sewing, and Evelina was preparing to make artificial flowers. The + sisters usually relegated this more delicate business to the long leisure + of the summer months; but to-night Evelina had brought out the box which + lay all winter under the bed, and spread before her a bright array of + muslin petals, yellow stamens and green corollas, and a tray of little + implements curiously suggestive of the dental art. Ann Eliza made no + remark on this unusual proceeding; perhaps she guessed why, for that + evening her sister had chosen a graceful task. + </p> + <p> + Presently a knock on the outer door made them look up; but Evelina, the + first on her feet, said promptly: “Sit still. I'll see who it is.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza was glad to sit still: the baby's petticoat that she was + stitching shook in her fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Sister, here's Mr. Ramy come to look at the clock,” said Evelina, a + moment later, in the high drawl she cultivated before strangers; and a + shortish man with a pale bearded face and upturned coat-collar came + stiffly into the room. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza let her work fall as she stood up. “You're very welcome, I'm + sure, Mr. Ramy. It's real kind of you to call.” + </p> + <p> + “Nod ad all, ma'am.” A tendency to illustrate Grimm's law in the + interchange of his consonants betrayed the clockmaker's nationality, but + he was evidently used to speaking English, or at least the particular + branch of the vernacular with which the Bunner sisters were familiar. “I + don't like to led any clock go out of my store without being sure it gives + satisfaction,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “Oh—but we were satisfied,” Ann Eliza assured him. + </p> + <p> + “But I wasn't, you see, ma'am,” said Mr. Ramy looking slowly about the + room, “nor I won't be, not till I see that clock's going all right.” + </p> + <p> + “May I assist you off with your coat, Mr. Ramy?” Evelina interposed. She + could never trust Ann Eliza to remember these opening ceremonies. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, ma'am,” he replied, and taking his thread-bare over-coat and + shabby hat she laid them on a chair with the gesture she imagined the lady + with the puffed sleeves might make use of on similar occasions. Ann + Eliza's social sense was roused, and she felt that the next act of + hospitality must be hers. “Won't you suit yourself to a seat?” she + suggested. “My sister will reach down the clock; but I'm sure she's all + right again. She's went beautiful ever since you fixed her.” + </p> + <p> + “Dat's good,” said Mr. Ramy. His lips parted in a smile which showed a row + of yellowish teeth with one or two gaps in it; but in spite of this + disclosure Ann Eliza thought his smile extremely pleasant: there was + something wistful and conciliating in it which agreed with the pathos of + his sunken cheeks and prominent eyes. As he took the lamp, the light fell + on his bulging forehead and wide skull thinly covered with grayish hair. + His hands were pale and broad, with knotty joints and square finger-tips + rimmed with grime; but his touch was as light as a woman's. + </p> + <p> + “Well, ladies, dat clock's all right,” he pronounced. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure we're very much obliged to you,” said Evelina, throwing a glance + at her sister. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” Ann Eliza murmured, involuntarily answering the admonition. She + selected a key from the bunch that hung at her waist with her cutting-out + scissors, and fitting it into the lock of the cupboard, brought out the + cherry brandy and three old-fashioned glasses engraved with vine-wreaths. + </p> + <p> + “It's a very cold night,” she said, “and maybe you'd like a sip of this + cordial. It was made a great while ago by our grandmother.” + </p> + <p> + “It looks fine,” said Mr. Ramy bowing, and Ann Eliza filled the glasses. + In her own and Evelina's she poured only a few drops, but she filled their + guest's to the brim. “My sister and I seldom take wine,” she explained. + </p> + <p> + With another bow, which included both his hostesses, Mr. Ramy drank off + the cherry brandy and pronounced it excellent. + </p> + <p> + Evelina meanwhile, with an assumption of industry intended to put their + guest at ease, had taken up her instruments and was twisting a rose-petal + into shape. + </p> + <p> + “You make artificial flowers, I see, ma'am,” said Mr. Ramy with interest. + “It's very pretty work. I had a lady-vriend in Shermany dat used to make + flowers.” He put out a square finger-tip to touch the petal. + </p> + <p> + Evelina blushed a little. “You left Germany long ago, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me yes, a goot while ago. I was only ninedeen when I come to the + States.” + </p> + <p> + After this the conversation dragged on intermittently till Mr. Ramy, + peering about the room with the short-sighted glance of his race, said + with an air of interest: “You're pleasantly fixed here; it looks real + cosy.” The note of wistfulness in his voice was obscurely moving to Ann + Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we live very plainly,” said Evelina, with an affectation of grandeur + deeply impressive to her sister. “We have very simple tastes.” + </p> + <p> + “You look real comfortable, anyhow,” said Mr. Ramy. His bulging eyes + seemed to muster the details of the scene with a gentle envy. “I wisht I + had as good a store; but I guess no blace seems home-like when you're + always alone in it.” + </p> + <p> + For some minutes longer the conversation moved on at this desultory pace, + and then Mr. Ramy, who had been obviously nerving himself for the + difficult act of departure, took his leave with an abruptness which would + have startled anyone used to the subtler gradations of intercourse. But to + Ann Eliza and her sister there was nothing surprising in his abrupt + retreat. The long-drawn agonies of preparing to leave, and the subsequent + dumb plunge through the door, were so usual in their circle that they + would have been as much embarrassed as Mr. Ramy if he had tried to put any + fluency into his adieux. + </p> + <p> + After he had left both sisters remained silent for a while; then Evelina, + laying aside her unfinished flower, said: “I'll go and lock up.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV + </h2> + <p> + Intolerably monotonous seemed now to the Bunner sisters the treadmill + routine of the shop, colourless and long their evenings about the lamp, + aimless their habitual interchange of words to the weary accompaniment of + the sewing and pinking machines. + </p> + <p> + It was perhaps with the idea of relieving the tension of their mood that + Evelina, the following Sunday, suggested inviting Miss Mellins to supper. + The Bunner sisters were not in a position to be lavish of the humblest + hospitality, but two or three times in the year they shared their evening + meal with a friend; and Miss Mellins, still flushed with the importance of + her “turn,” seemed the most interesting guest they could invite. + </p> + <p> + As the three women seated themselves at the supper-table, embellished by + the unwonted addition of pound cake and sweet pickles, the dress-maker's + sharp swarthy person stood out vividly between the neutral-tinted sisters. + Miss Mellins was a small woman with a glossy yellow face and a frizz of + black hair bristling with imitation tortoise-shell pins. Her sleeves had a + fashionable cut, and half a dozen metal bangles rattled on her wrists. Her + voice rattled like her bangles as she poured forth a stream of anecdote + and ejaculation; and her round black eyes jumped with acrobatic velocity + from one face to another. Miss Mellins was always having or hearing of + amazing adventures. She had surprised a burglar in her room at midnight + (though how he got there, what he robbed her of, and by what means he + escaped had never been quite clear to her auditors); she had been warned + by anonymous letters that her grocer (a rejected suitor) was putting + poison in her tea; she had a customer who was shadowed by detectives, and + another (a very wealthy lady) who had been arrested in a department store + for kleptomania; she had been present at a spiritualist seance where an + old gentleman had died in a fit on seeing a materialization of his + mother-in-law; she had escaped from two fires in her night-gown, and at + the funeral of her first cousin the horses attached to the hearse had run + away and smashed the coffin, precipitating her relative into an open + man-hole before the eyes of his distracted family. + </p> + <p> + A sceptical observer might have explained Miss Mellins's proneness to + adventure by the fact that she derived her chief mental nourishment from + the Police Gazette and the Fireside Weekly; but her lot was cast in a + circle where such insinuations were not likely to be heard, and where the + title-role in blood-curdling drama had long been her recognized right. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she was now saying, her emphatic eyes on Ann Eliza, “you may not + believe it, Miss Bunner, and I don't know's I should myself if anybody + else was to tell me, but over a year before ever I was born, my mother she + went to see a gypsy fortune-teller that was exhibited in a tent on the + Battery with the green-headed lady, though her father warned her not to—and + what you s'pose she told her? Why, she told her these very words—says + she: 'Your next child'll be a girl with jet-black curls, and she'll suffer + from spasms.'” + </p> + <p> + “Mercy!” murmured Ann Eliza, a ripple of sympathy running down her spine. + </p> + <p> + “D'you ever have spasms before, Miss Mellins?” Evelina asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma'am,” the dress-maker declared. “And where'd you suppose I had + 'em? Why, at my cousin Emma McIntyre's wedding, her that married the + apothecary over in Jersey City, though her mother appeared to her in a + dream and told her she'd rue the day she done it, but as Emma said, she + got more advice than she wanted from the living, and if she was to listen + to spectres too she'd never be sure what she'd ought to do and what she'd + oughtn't; but I will say her husband took to drink, and she never was the + same woman after her fust baby—well, they had an elegant church + wedding, and what you s'pose I saw as I was walkin' up the aisle with the + wedding percession?” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” Ann Eliza whispered, forgetting to thread her needle. + </p> + <p> + “Why, a coffin, to be sure, right on the top step of the chancel—Emma's + folks is 'piscopalians and she would have a church wedding, though <i>his</i> + mother raised a terrible rumpus over it—well, there it set, right in + front of where the minister stood that was going to marry 'em, a coffin + covered with a black velvet pall with a gold fringe, and a 'Gates Ajar' in + white camellias atop of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Goodness,” said Evelina, starting, “there's a knock!” + </p> + <p> + “Who can it be?” shuddered Ann Eliza, still under the spell of Miss + Mellins's hallucination. + </p> + <p> + Evelina rose and lit a candle to guide her through the shop. They heard + her turn the key of the outer door, and a gust of night air stirred the + close atmosphere of the back room; then there was a sound of vivacious + exclamations, and Evelina returned with Mr. Ramy. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza's heart rocked like a boat in a heavy sea, and the dress-maker's + eyes, distended with curiosity, sprang eagerly from face to face. + </p> + <p> + “I just thought I'd call in again,” said Mr. Ramy, evidently somewhat + disconcerted by the presence of Miss Mellins. “Just to see how the clock's + behaving,” he added with his hollow-cheeked smile. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she's behaving beautiful,” said Ann Eliza; “but we're real glad to + see you all the same. Miss Mellins, let me make you acquainted with Mr. + Ramy.” + </p> + <p> + The dress-maker tossed back her head and dropped her lids in condescending + recognition of the stranger's presence; and Mr. Ramy responded by an + awkward bow. After the first moment of constraint a renewed sense of + satisfaction filled the consciousness of the three women. The Bunner + sisters were not sorry to let Miss Mellins see that they received an + occasional evening visit, and Miss Mellins was clearly enchanted at the + opportunity of pouring her latest tale into a new ear. As for Mr. Ramy, he + adjusted himself to the situation with greater ease than might have been + expected, and Evelina, who had been sorry that he should enter the room + while the remains of supper still lingered on the table, blushed with + pleasure at his good-humored offer to help her “glear away.” + </p> + <p> + The table cleared, Ann Eliza suggested a game of cards; and it was after + eleven o'clock when Mr. Ramy rose to take leave. His adieux were so much + less abrupt than on the occasion of his first visit that Evelina was able + to satisfy her sense of etiquette by escorting him, candle in hand, to the + outer door; and as the two disappeared into the shop Miss Mellins + playfully turned to Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, Miss Bunner,” she murmured, jerking her chin in the direction + of the retreating figures, “I'd no idea your sister was keeping company. + On'y to think!” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, roused from a state of dreamy beatitude, turned her timid eyes + on the dress-maker. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you're mistaken, Miss Mellins. We don't har'ly know Mr. Ramy.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Mellins smiled incredulously. “You go 'long, Miss Bunner. I guess + there'll be a wedding somewheres round here before spring, and I'll be + real offended if I ain't asked to make the dress. I've always seen her in + a gored satin with rooshings.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza made no answer. She had grown very pale, and her eyes lingered + searchingly on Evelina as the younger sister re-entered the room. + Evelina's cheeks were pink, and her blue eyes glittered; but it seemed to + Ann Eliza that the coquettish tilt of her head regrettably emphasized the + weakness of her receding chin. It was the first time that Ann Eliza had + ever seen a flaw in her sister's beauty, and her involuntary criticism + startled her like a secret disloyalty. + </p> + <p> + That night, after the light had been put out, the elder sister knelt + longer than usual at her prayers. In the silence of the darkened room she + was offering up certain dreams and aspirations whose brief blossoming had + lent a transient freshness to her days. She wondered now how she could + ever have supposed that Mr. Ramy's visits had another cause than the one + Miss Mellins suggested. Had not the sight of Evelina first inspired him + with a sudden solicitude for the welfare of the clock? And what charms but + Evelina's could have induced him to repeat his visit? Grief held up its + torch to the frail fabric of Ann Eliza's illusions, and with a firm heart + she watched them shrivel into ashes; then, rising from her knees full of + the chill joy of renunciation, she laid a kiss on the crimping pins of the + sleeping Evelina and crept under the bedspread at her side. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V + </h2> + <p> + During the months that followed, Mr. Ramy visited the sisters with + increasing frequency. It became his habit to call on them every Sunday + evening, and occasionally during the week he would find an excuse for + dropping in unannounced as they were settling down to their work beside + the lamp. Ann Eliza noticed that Evelina now took the precaution of + putting on her crimson bow every evening before supper, and that she had + refurbished with a bit of carefully washed lace the black silk which they + still called new because it had been bought a year after Ann Eliza's. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ramy, as he grew more intimate, became less conversational, and after + the sisters had blushingly accorded him the privilege of a pipe he began + to permit himself long stretches of meditative silence that were not + without charm to his hostesses. There was something at once fortifying and + pacific in the sense of that tranquil male presence in an atmosphere which + had so long quivered with little feminine doubts and distresses; and the + sisters fell into the habit of saying to each other, in moments of + uncertainty: “We'll ask Mr. Ramy when he comes,” and of accepting his + verdict, whatever it might be, with a fatalistic readiness that relieved + them of all responsibility. + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Ramy drew the pipe from his mouth and became, in his turn, + confidential, the acuteness of their sympathy grew almost painful to the + sisters. With passionate participation they listened to the story of his + early struggles in Germany, and of the long illness which had been the + cause of his recent misfortunes. The name of the Mrs. Hochmuller (an old + comrade's widow) who had nursed him through his fever was greeted with + reverential sighs and an inward pang of envy whenever it recurred in his + biographical monologues, and once when the sisters were alone Evelina + called a responsive flush to Ann Eliza's brow by saying suddenly, without + the mention of any name: “I wonder what she's like?” + </p> + <p> + One day toward spring Mr. Ramy, who had by this time become as much a part + of their lives as the letter-carrier or the milkman, ventured the + suggestion that the ladies should accompany him to an exhibition of + stereopticon views which was to take place at Chickering Hall on the + following evening. + </p> + <p> + After their first breathless “Oh!” of pleasure there was a silence of + mutual consultation, which Ann Eliza at last broke by saying: “You better + go with Mr. Ramy, Evelina. I guess we don't both want to leave the store + at night.” + </p> + <p> + Evelina, with such protests as politeness demanded, acquiesced in this + opinion, and spent the next day in trimming a white chip bonnet with + forget-me-nots of her own making. Ann Eliza brought out her mosaic brooch, + a cashmere scarf of their mother's was taken from its linen cerements, and + thus adorned Evelina blushingly departed with Mr. Ramy, while the elder + sister sat down in her place at the pinking-machine. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to Ann Eliza that she was alone for hours, and she was + surprised, when she heard Evelina tap on the door, to find that the clock + marked only half-past ten. + </p> + <p> + “It must have gone wrong again,” she reflected as she rose to let her + sister in. + </p> + <p> + The evening had been brilliantly interesting, and several striking + stereopticon views of Berlin had afforded Mr. Ramy the opportunity of + enlarging on the marvels of his native city. + </p> + <p> + “He said he'd love to show it all to me!” Evelina declared as Ann Eliza + conned her glowing face. “Did you ever hear anything so silly? I didn't + know which way to look.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza received this confidence with a sympathetic murmur. + </p> + <p> + “My bonnet <i>is</i> becoming, isn't it?” Evelina went on irrelevantly, smiling + at her reflection in the cracked glass above the chest of drawers. + </p> + <p> + “You're jest lovely,” said Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + Spring was making itself unmistakably known to the distrustful New Yorker + by an increased harshness of wind and prevalence of dust, when one day + Evelina entered the back room at supper-time with a cluster of jonquils in + her hand. + </p> + <p> + “I was just that foolish,” she answered Ann Eliza's wondering glance, “I + couldn't help buyin' 'em. I felt as if I must have something pretty to + look at right away.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sister,” said Ann Eliza, in trembling sympathy. She felt that special + indulgence must be conceded to those in Evelina's state since she had had + her own fleeting vision of such mysterious longings as the words betrayed. + </p> + <p> + Evelina, meanwhile, had taken the bundle of dried grasses out of the + broken china vase, and was putting the jonquils in their place with + touches that lingered down their smooth stems and blade-like leaves. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't they pretty?” she kept repeating as she gathered the flowers into a + starry circle. “Seems as if spring was really here, don't it?” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza remembered that it was Mr. Ramy's evening. + </p> + <p> + When he came, the Teutonic eye for anything that blooms made him turn at + once to the jonquils. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't dey pretty?” he said. “Seems like as if de spring was really here.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't it?” Evelina exclaimed, thrilled by the coincidence of their + thought. “It's just what I was saying to my sister.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza got up suddenly and moved away; she remembered that she had not + wound the clock the day before. Evelina was sitting at the table; the + jonquils rose slenderly between herself and Mr. Ramy. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” she murmured with vague eyes, “how I'd love to get away somewheres + into the country this very minute—somewheres where it was green and + quiet. Seems as if I couldn't stand the city another day.” But Ann Eliza + noticed that she was looking at Mr. Ramy, and not at the flowers. + </p> + <p> + “I guess we might go to Cendral Park some Sunday,” their visitor + suggested. “Do you ever go there, Miss Evelina?” + </p> + <p> + “No, we don't very often; leastways we ain't been for a good while.” She + sparkled at the prospect. “It would be lovely, wouldn't it, Ann Eliza?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes,” said the elder sister, coming back to her seat. + </p> + <p> + “Well, why don't we go next Sunday?” Mr. Ramy continued. “And we'll invite + Miss Mellins too—that'll make a gosy little party.” + </p> + <p> + That night when Evelina undressed she took a jonquil from the vase and + pressed it with a certain ostentation between the leaves of her + prayer-book. Ann Eliza, covertly observing her, felt that Evelina was not + sorry to be observed, and that her own acute consciousness of the act was + somehow regarded as magnifying its significance. + </p> + <p> + The following Sunday broke blue and warm. The Bunner sisters were habitual + church-goers, but for once they left their prayer-books on the what-not, + and ten o'clock found them, gloved and bonneted, awaiting Miss Mellins's + knock. Miss Mellins presently appeared in a glitter of jet sequins and + spangles, with a tale of having seen a strange man prowling under her + windows till he was called off at dawn by a confederate's whistle; and + shortly afterward came Mr. Ramy, his hair brushed with more than usual + care, his broad hands encased in gloves of olive-green kid. + </p> + <p> + The little party set out for the nearest street-car, and a flutter of + mingled gratification and embarrassment stirred Ann Eliza's bosom when it + was found that Mr. Ramy intended to pay their fares. Nor did he fail to + live up to this opening liberality; for after guiding them through the + Mall and the Ramble he led the way to a rustic restaurant where, also at + his expense, they fared idyllically on milk and lemon-pie. + </p> + <p> + After this they resumed their walk, strolling on with the slowness of + unaccustomed holiday-makers from one path to another—through budding + shrubberies, past grass-banks sprinkled with lilac crocuses, and under + rocks on which the forsythia lay like sudden sunshine. Everything about + her seemed new and miraculously lovely to Ann Eliza; but she kept her + feelings to herself, leaving it to Evelina to exclaim at the hepaticas + under the shady ledges, and to Miss Mellins, less interested in the + vegetable than in the human world, to remark significantly on the probable + history of the persons they met. All the alleys were thronged with + promenaders and obstructed by perambulators; and Miss Mellins's running + commentary threw a glare of lurid possibilities over the placid family + groups and their romping progeny. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza was in no mood for such interpretations of life; but, knowing + that Miss Mellins had been invited for the sole purpose of keeping her + company she continued to cling to the dress-maker's side, letting Mr. Ramy + lead the way with Evelina. Miss Mellins, stimulated by the excitement of + the occasion, grew more and more discursive, and her ceaseless talk, and + the kaleidoscopic whirl of the crowd, were unspeakably bewildering to Ann + Eliza. Her feet, accustomed to the slippered ease of the shop, ached with + the unfamiliar effort of walking, and her ears with the din of the + dress-maker's anecdotes; but every nerve in her was aware of Evelina's + enjoyment, and she was determined that no weariness of hers should curtail + it. Yet even her heroism shrank from the significant glances which Miss + Mellins presently began to cast at the couple in front of them: Ann Eliza + could bear to connive at Evelina's bliss, but not to acknowledge it to + others. + </p> + <p> + At length Evelina's feet also failed her, and she turned to suggest that + they ought to be going home. Her flushed face had grown pale with fatigue, + but her eyes were radiant. + </p> + <p> + The return lived in Ann Eliza's memory with the persistence of an evil + dream. The horse-cars were packed with the returning throng, and they had + to let a dozen go by before they could push their way into one that was + already crowded. Ann Eliza had never before felt so tired. Even Miss + Mellins's flow of narrative ran dry, and they sat silent, wedged between a + negro woman and a pock-marked man with a bandaged head, while the car + rumbled slowly down a squalid avenue to their corner. Evelina and Mr. Ramy + sat together in the forward part of the car, and Ann Eliza could catch + only an occasional glimpse of the forget-me-not bonnet and the + clock-maker's shiny coat-collar; but when the little party got out at + their corner the crowd swept them together again, and they walked back in + the effortless silence of tired children to the Bunner sisters' basement. + As Miss Mellins and Mr. Ramy turned to go their various ways Evelina + mustered a last display of smiles; but Ann Eliza crossed the threshold in + silence, feeling the stillness of the little shop reach out to her like + consoling arms. + </p> + <p> + That night she could not sleep; but as she lay cold and rigid at her + sister's side, she suddenly felt the pressure of Evelina's arms, and heard + her whisper: “Oh, Ann Eliza, warn't it heavenly?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI + </h2> + <p> + For four days after their Sunday in the Park the Bunner sisters had no + news of Mr. Ramy. At first neither one betrayed her disappointment and + anxiety to the other; but on the fifth morning Evelina, always the first + to yield to her feelings, said, as she turned from her untasted tea: “I + thought you'd oughter take that money out by now, Ann Eliza.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza understood and reddened. The winter had been a fairly prosperous + one for the sisters, and their slowly accumulated savings had now reached + the handsome sum of two hundred dollars; but the satisfaction they might + have felt in this unwonted opulence had been clouded by a suggestion of + Miss Mellins's that there were dark rumours concerning the savings bank in + which their funds were deposited. They knew Miss Mellins was given to vain + alarms; but her words, by the sheer force of repetition, had so shaken Ann + Eliza's peace that after long hours of midnight counsel the sisters had + decided to advise with Mr. Ramy; and on Ann Eliza, as the head of the + house, this duty had devolved. Mr. Ramy, when consulted, had not only + confirmed the dress-maker's report, but had offered to find some safe + investment which should give the sisters a higher rate of interest than + the suspected savings bank; and Ann Eliza knew that Evelina alluded to the + suggested transfer. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, to be sure,” she agreed. “Mr. Ramy said if he was us he + wouldn't want to leave his money there any longer'n he could help.” + </p> + <p> + “It was over a week ago he said it,” Evelina reminded her. + </p> + <p> + “I know; but he told me to wait till he'd found out for sure about that + other investment; and we ain't seen him since then.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza's words released their secret fear. “I wonder what's happened to + him,” Evelina said. “You don't suppose he could be sick?” + </p> + <p> + “I was wondering too,” Ann Eliza rejoined; and the sisters looked down at + their plates. + </p> + <p> + “I should think you'd oughter do something about that money pretty soon,” + Evelina began again. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I know I'd oughter. What would you do if you was me?” + </p> + <p> + “If I was <i>you</i>,” said her sister, with perceptible emphasis and a rising + blush, “I'd go right round and see if Mr. Ramy was sick. <i>You</i> could.” + </p> + <p> + The words pierced Ann Eliza like a blade. “Yes, that's so,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “It would only seem friendly, if he really <i>is</i> sick. If I was you I'd go + to-day,” Evelina continued; and after dinner Ann Eliza went. + </p> + <p> + On the way she had to leave a parcel at the dyer's, and having performed + that errand she turned toward Mr. Ramy's shop. Never before had she felt + so old, so hopeless and humble. She knew she was bound on a love-errand of + Evelina's, and the knowledge seemed to dry the last drop of young blood in + her veins. It took from her, too, all her faded virginal shyness; and with + a brisk composure she turned the handle of the clock-maker's door. + </p> + <p> + But as she entered her heart began to tremble, for she saw Mr. Ramy, his + face hidden in his hands, sitting behind the counter in an attitude of + strange dejection. At the click of the latch he looked up slowly, fixing a + lustreless stare on Ann Eliza. For a moment she thought he did not know + her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you're sick!” she exclaimed; and the sound of her voice seemed to + recall his wandering senses. + </p> + <p> + “Why, if it ain't Miss Bunner!” he said, in a low thick tone; but he made + no attempt to move, and she noticed that his face was the colour of yellow + ashes. + </p> + <p> + “You <i>are</i> sick,” she persisted, emboldened by his evident need of help. + “Mr. Ramy, it was real unfriendly of you not to let us know.” + </p> + <p> + He continued to look at her with dull eyes. “I ain't been sick,” he said. + “Leastways not very: only one of my old turns.” He spoke in a slow + laboured way, as if he had difficulty in getting his words together. + </p> + <p> + “Rheumatism?” she ventured, seeing how unwillingly he seemed to move. + </p> + <p> + “Well—somethin' like, maybe. I couldn't hardly put a name to it.” + </p> + <p> + “If it <i>was</i> anything like rheumatism, my grandmother used to make a tea—” + Ann Eliza began: she had forgotten, in the warmth of the moment, that she + had only come as Evelina's messenger. + </p> + <p> + At the mention of tea an expression of uncontrollable repugnance passed + over Mr. Ramy's face. “Oh, I guess I'm getting on all right. I've just got + a headache to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza's courage dropped at the note of refusal in his voice. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry,” she said gently. “My sister and me'd have been glad to do + anything we could for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you kindly,” said Mr. Ramy wearily; then, as she turned to the + door, he added with an effort: “Maybe I'll step round to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll be real glad,” Ann Eliza repeated. Her eyes were fixed on a dusty + bronze clock in the window. She was unaware of looking at it at the time, + but long afterward she remembered that it represented a Newfoundland dog + with his paw on an open book. + </p> + <p> + When she reached home there was a purchaser in the shop, turning over + hooks and eyes under Evelina's absent-minded supervision. Ann Eliza passed + hastily into the back room, but in an instant she heard her sister at her + side. + </p> + <p> + “Quick! I told her I was goin' to look for some smaller hooks—how is + he?” Evelina gasped. + </p> + <p> + “He ain't been very well,” said Ann Eliza slowly, her eyes on Evelina's + eager face; “but he says he'll be sure to be round to-morrow night.” + </p> + <p> + “He will? Are you telling me the truth?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Evelina Bunner!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't care!” cried the younger recklessly, rushing back into the + shop. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza stood burning with the shame of Evelina's self-exposure. She was + shocked that, even to her, Evelina should lay bare the nakedness of her + emotion; and she tried to turn her thoughts from it as though its + recollection made her a sharer in her sister's debasement. + </p> + <p> + The next evening, Mr. Ramy reappeared, still somewhat sallow and + red-lidded, but otherwise his usual self. Ann Eliza consulted him about + the investment he had recommended, and after it had been settled that he + should attend to the matter for her he took up the illustrated volume of + Longfellow—for, as the sisters had learned, his culture soared + beyond the newspapers—and read aloud, with a fine confusion of + consonants, the poem on “Maidenhood.” Evelina lowered her lids while he + read. It was a very beautiful evening, and Ann Eliza thought afterward how + different life might have been with a companion who read poetry like Mr. + Ramy. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII + </h2> + <p> + During the ensuing weeks Mr. Ramy, though his visits were as frequent as + ever, did not seem to regain his usual spirits. He complained frequently + of headache, but rejected Ann Eliza's tentatively proffered remedies, and + seemed to shrink from any prolonged investigation of his symptoms. July + had come, with a sudden ardour of heat, and one evening, as the three sat + together by the open window in the back room, Evelina said: “I dunno what + I wouldn't give, a night like this, for a breath of real country air.” + </p> + <p> + “So would I,” said Mr. Ramy, knocking the ashes from his pipe. “I'd like + to be setting in an arbour dis very minute.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, wouldn't it be lovely?” + </p> + <p> + “I always think it's real cool here—we'd be heaps hotter up where + Miss Mellins is,” said Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I daresay—but we'd be heaps cooler somewhere else,” her sister + snapped: she was not infrequently exasperated by Ann Eliza's furtive + attempts to mollify Providence. + </p> + <p> + A few days later Mr. Ramy appeared with a suggestion which enchanted + Evelina. He had gone the day before to see his friend, Mrs. Hochmuller, + who lived in the outskirts of Hoboken, and Mrs. Hochmuller had proposed + that on the following Sunday he should bring the Bunner sisters to spend + the day with her. + </p> + <p> + “She's got a real garden, you know,” Mr. Ramy explained, “wid trees and a + real summer-house to set in; and hens and chickens too. And it's an + elegant sail over on de ferry-boat.” + </p> + <p> + The proposal drew no response from Ann Eliza. She was still oppressed by + the recollection of her interminable Sunday in the Park; but, obedient to + Evelina's imperious glance, she finally faltered out an acceptance. + </p> + <p> + The Sunday was a very hot one, and once on the ferry-boat Ann Eliza + revived at the touch of the salt breeze, and the spectacle of the crowded + waters; but when they reached the other shore, and stepped out on the + dirty wharf, she began to ache with anticipated weariness. They got into a + street-car, and were jolted from one mean street to another, till at + length Mr. Ramy pulled the conductor's sleeve and they got out again; then + they stood in the blazing sun, near the door of a crowded beer-saloon, + waiting for another car to come; and that carried them out to a thinly + settled district, past vacant lots and narrow brick houses standing in + unsupported solitude, till they finally reached an almost rural region of + scattered cottages and low wooden buildings that looked like village + “stores.” Here the car finally stopped of its own accord, and they walked + along a rutty road, past a stone-cutter's yard with a high fence + tapestried with theatrical advertisements, to a little red house with + green blinds and a garden paling. Really, Mr. Ramy had not deceived them. + Clumps of dielytra and day-lilies bloomed behind the paling, and a crooked + elm hung romantically over the gable of the house. + </p> + <p> + At the gate Mrs. Hochmuller, a broad woman in brick-brown merino, met them + with nods and smiles, while her daughter Linda, a flaxen-haired girl with + mottled red cheeks and a sidelong stare, hovered inquisitively behind her. + Mrs. Hochmuller, leading the way into the house, conducted the Bunner + sisters the way to her bedroom. Here they were invited to spread out on a + mountainous white featherbed the cashmere mantles under which the + solemnity of the occasion had compelled them to swelter, and when they had + given their black silks the necessary twitch of readjustment, and Evelina + had fluffed out her hair before a looking-glass framed in pink-shell work, + their hostess led them to a stuffy parlour smelling of gingerbread. After + another ceremonial pause, broken by polite enquiries and shy ejaculations, + they were shown into the kitchen, where the table was already spread with + strange-looking spice-cakes and stewed fruits, and where they presently + found themselves seated between Mrs. Hochmuller and Mr. Ramy, while the + staring Linda bumped back and forth from the stove with steaming dishes. + </p> + <p> + To Ann Eliza the dinner seemed endless, and the rich fare strangely + unappetizing. She was abashed by the easy intimacy of her hostess's voice + and eye. With Mr. Ramy Mrs. Hochmuller was almost flippantly familiar, and + it was only when Ann Eliza pictured her generous form bent above his + sick-bed that she could forgive her for tersely addressing him as “Ramy.” + During one of the pauses of the meal Mrs. Hochmuller laid her knife and + fork against the edges of her plate, and, fixing her eyes on the + clock-maker's face, said accusingly: “You hat one of dem turns again, + Ramy.” + </p> + <p> + “I dunno as I had,” he returned evasively. + </p> + <p> + Evelina glanced from one to the other. “Mr. Ramy <i>has</i> been sick,” she said + at length, as though to show that she also was in a position to speak with + authority. “He's complained very frequently of headaches.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho!—I know him,” said Mrs. Hochmuller with a laugh, her eyes still + on the clock-maker. “Ain't you ashamed of yourself, Ramy?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ramy, who was looking at his plate, said suddenly one word which the + sisters could not understand; it sounded to Ann Eliza like “Shwike.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hochmuller laughed again. “My, my,” she said, “wouldn't you think + he'd be ashamed to go and be sick and never dell me, me that nursed him + troo dat awful fever?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I <i>should</i>,” said Evelina, with a spirited glance at Ramy; but he was + looking at the sausages that Linda had just put on the table. + </p> + <p> + When dinner was over Mrs. Hochmuller invited her guests to step out of the + kitchen-door, and they found themselves in a green enclosure, half garden, + half orchard. Grey hens followed by golden broods clucked under the + twisted apple-boughs, a cat dozed on the edge of an old well, and from + tree to tree ran the network of clothes-line that denoted Mrs. + Hochmuller's calling. Beyond the apple trees stood a yellow summer-house + festooned with scarlet runners; and below it, on the farther side of a + rough fence, the land dipped down, holding a bit of woodland in its + hollow. It was all strangely sweet and still on that hot Sunday afternoon, + and as she moved across the grass under the apple-boughs Ann Eliza thought + of quiet afternoons in church, and of the hymns her mother had sung to her + when she was a baby. + </p> + <p> + Evelina was more restless. She wandered from the well to the summer-house + and back, she tossed crumbs to the chickens and disturbed the cat with + arch caresses; and at last she expressed a desire to go down into the + wood. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you got to go round by the road, then,” said Mrs. Hochmuller. “My + Linda she goes troo a hole in de fence, but I guess you'd tear your dress + if you was to dry.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll help you,” said Mr. Ramy; and guided by Linda the pair walked along + the fence till they reached a narrow gap in its boards. Through this they + disappeared, watched curiously in their descent by the grinning Linda, + while Mrs. Hochmuller and Ann Eliza were left alone in the summer-house. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hochmuller looked at her guest with a confidential smile. “I guess + dey'll be gone quite a while,” she remarked, jerking her double chin + toward the gap in the fence. “Folks like dat don't never remember about de + dime.” And she drew out her knitting. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza could think of nothing to say. + </p> + <p> + “Your sister she thinks a great lot of him, don't she?” her hostess + continued. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza's cheeks grew hot. “Ain't you a teeny bit lonesome away out here + sometimes?” she asked. “I should think you'd be scared nights, all alone + with your daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, I ain't,” said Mrs. Hochmuller. “You see I take in washing—dat's + my business—and it's a lot cheaper doing it out here dan in de city: + where'd I get a drying-ground like dis in Hobucken? And den it's safer for + Linda too; it geeps her outer de streets.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Ann Eliza, shrinking. She began to feel a distinct aversion for + her hostess, and her eyes turned with involuntary annoyance to the + square-backed form of Linda, still inquisitively suspended on the fence. + It seemed to Ann Eliza that Evelina and her companion would never return + from the wood; but they came at length, Mr. Ramy's brow pearled with + perspiration, Evelina pink and conscious, a drooping bunch of ferns in her + hand; and it was clear that, to her at least, the moments had been winged. + </p> + <p> + “D'you suppose they'll revive?” she asked, holding up the ferns; but Ann + Eliza, rising at her approach, said stiffly: “We'd better be getting home, + Evelina.” + </p> + <p> + “Mercy me! Ain't you going to take your coffee first?” Mrs. Hochmuller + protested; and Ann Eliza found to her dismay that another long gastronomic + ceremony must intervene before politeness permitted them to leave. At + length, however, they found themselves again on the ferry-boat. Water and + sky were grey, with a dividing gleam of sunset that sent sleek opal waves + in the boat's wake. The wind had a cool tarry breath, as though it had + travelled over miles of shipping, and the hiss of the water about the + paddles was as delicious as though it had been splashed into their tired + faces. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza sat apart, looking away from the others. She had made up her + mind that Mr. Ramy had proposed to Evelina in the wood, and she was + silently preparing herself to receive her sister's confidence that + evening. + </p> + <p> + But Evelina was apparently in no mood for confidences. When they reached + home she put her faded ferns in water, and after supper, when she had laid + aside her silk dress and the forget-me-not bonnet, she remained silently + seated in her rocking-chair near the open window. It was long since Ann + Eliza had seen her in so uncommunicative a mood. + </p> + <p> + The following Saturday Ann Eliza was sitting alone in the shop when the + door opened and Mr. Ramy entered. He had never before called at that hour, + and she wondered a little anxiously what had brought him. + </p> + <p> + “Has anything happened?” she asked, pushing aside the basketful of buttons + she had been sorting. + </p> + <p> + “Not's I know of,” said Mr. Ramy tranquilly. “But I always close up the + store at two o'clock Saturdays at this season, so I thought I might as + well call round and see you.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm real glad, I'm sure,” said Ann Eliza; “but Evelina's out.” + </p> + <p> + “I know dat,” Mr. Ramy answered. “I met her round de corner. She told me + she got to go to dat new dyer's up in Forty-eighth Street. She won't be + back for a couple of hours, har'ly, will she?” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza looked at him with rising bewilderment. “No, I guess not,” she + answered; her instinctive hospitality prompting her to add: “Won't you set + down jest the same?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ramy sat down on the stool beside the counter, and Ann Eliza returned + to her place behind it. + </p> + <p> + “I can't leave the store,” she explained. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess we're very well here.” Ann Eliza had become suddenly aware + that Mr. Ramy was looking at her with unusual intentness. Involuntarily + her hand strayed to the thin streaks of hair on her temples, and thence + descended to straighten the brooch beneath her collar. + </p> + <p> + “You're looking very well to-day, Miss Bunner,” said Mr. Ramy, following + her gesture with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Ann Eliza nervously. “I'm always well in health,” she added. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you're healthier than your sister, even if you are less + sizeable.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't know. Evelina's a mite nervous sometimes, but she ain't a bit + sickly.” + </p> + <p> + “She eats heartier than you do; but that don't mean nothing,” said Mr. + Ramy. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza was silent. She could not follow the trend of his thought, and + she did not care to commit herself farther about Evelina before she had + ascertained if Mr. Ramy considered nervousness interesting or the reverse. + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Ramy spared her all farther indecision. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Miss Bunner,” he said, drawing his stool closer to the counter, “I + guess I might as well tell you fust as last what I come here for to-day. I + want to get married.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, in many a prayerful midnight hour, had sought to strengthen + herself for the hearing of this avowal, but now that it had come she felt + pitifully frightened and unprepared. Mr. Ramy was leaning with both elbows + on the counter, and she noticed that his nails were clean and that he had + brushed his hat; yet even these signs had not prepared her! + </p> + <p> + At last she heard herself say, with a dry throat in which her heart was + hammering: “Mercy me, Mr. Ramy!” + </p> + <p> + “I want to get married,” he repeated. “I'm too lonesome. It ain't good for + a man to live all alone, and eat noding but cold meat every day.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Ann Eliza softly. + </p> + <p> + “And the dust fairly beats me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the dust—I know!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ramy stretched one of his blunt-fingered hands toward her. “I wisht + you'd take me.” + </p> + <p> + Still Ann Eliza did not understand. She rose hesitatingly from her seat, + pushing aside the basket of buttons which lay between them; then she + perceived that Mr. Ramy was trying to take her hand, and as their fingers + met a flood of joy swept over her. Never afterward, though every other + word of their interview was stamped on her memory beyond all possible + forgetting, could she recall what he said while their hands touched; she + only knew that she seemed to be floating on a summer sea, and that all its + waves were in her ears. + </p> + <p> + “Me—me?” she gasped. + </p> + <p> + “I guess so,” said her suitor placidly. “You suit me right down to the + ground, Miss Bunner. Dat's the truth.” + </p> + <p> + A woman passing along the street paused to look at the shop-window, and + Ann Eliza half hoped she would come in; but after a desultory inspection + she went on. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe you don't fancy me?” Mr. Ramy suggested, discountenanced by Ann + Eliza's silence. + </p> + <p> + A word of assent was on her tongue, but her lips refused it. She must find + some other way of telling him. + </p> + <p> + “I don't say that.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I always kinder thought we was suited to one another,” Mr. Ramy + continued, eased of his momentary doubt. “I always liked de quiet style—no + fuss and airs, and not afraid of work.” He spoke as though dispassionately + cataloguing her charms. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza felt that she must make an end. “But, Mr. Ramy, you don't + understand. I've never thought of marrying.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ramy looked at her in surprise. “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't know, har'ly.” She moistened her twitching lips. “The fact + is, I ain't as active as I look. Maybe I couldn't stand the care. I ain't + as spry as Evelina—nor as young,” she added, with a last great + effort. + </p> + <p> + “But you do most of de work here, anyways,” said her suitor doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, that's because Evelina's busy outside; and where there's only + two women the work don't amount to much. Besides, I'm the oldest; I have + to look after things,” she hastened on, half pained that her simple ruse + should so readily deceive him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess you're active enough for me,” he persisted. His calm + determination began to frighten her; she trembled lest her own should be + less staunch. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” she repeated, feeling the tears on her lashes. “I couldn't, Mr. + Ramy, I couldn't marry. I'm so surprised. I always thought it was Evelina—always. + And so did everybody else. She's so bright and pretty—it seemed so + natural.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you was all mistaken,” said Mr. Ramy obstinately. + </p> + <p> + “I'm so sorry.” + </p> + <p> + He rose, pushing back his chair. + </p> + <p> + “You'd better think it over,” he said, in the large tone of a man who + feels he may safely wait. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, no. It ain't any sorter use, Mr. Ramy. I don't never mean to + marry. I get tired so easily—I'd be afraid of the work. And I have + such awful headaches.” She paused, racking her brain for more convincing + infirmities. + </p> + <p> + “Headaches, do you?” said Mr. Ramy, turning back. + </p> + <p> + “My, yes, awful ones, that I have to give right up to. Evelina has to do + everything when I have one of them headaches. She has to bring me my tea + in the mornings.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm sorry to hear it,” said Mr. Ramy. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you kindly all the same,” Ann Eliza murmured. “And please don't—don't—” + She stopped suddenly, looking at him through her tears. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's all right,” he answered. “Don't you fret, Miss Gunner. Folks + have got to suit themselves.” She thought his tone had grown more resigned + since she had spoken of her headaches. + </p> + <p> + For some moments he stood looking at her with a hesitating eye, as though + uncertain how to end their conversation; and at length she found courage + to say (in the words of a novel she had once read): “I don't want this + should make any difference between us.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my, no,” said Mr. Ramy, absently picking up his hat. + </p> + <p> + “You'll come in just the same?” she continued, nerving herself to the + effort. “We'd miss you awfully if you didn't. Evelina, she—” She + paused, torn between her desire to turn his thoughts to Evelina, and the + dread of prematurely disclosing her sister's secret. + </p> + <p> + “Don't Miss Evelina have no headaches?” Mr. Ramy suddenly asked. + </p> + <p> + “My, no, never—well, not to speak of, anyway. She ain't had one for + ages, and when Evelina <i>is</i> sick she won't never give in to it,” Ann Eliza + declared, making some hurried adjustments with her conscience. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't have thought that,” said Mr. Ramy. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you don't know us as well as you thought you did.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, no, that's so; maybe I don't. I'll wish you good day, Miss Bunner”; + and Mr. Ramy moved toward the door. + </p> + <p> + “Good day, Mr. Ramy,” Ann Eliza answered. + </p> + <p> + She felt unutterably thankful to be alone. She knew the crucial moment of + her life had passed, and she was glad that she had not fallen below her + own ideals. It had been a wonderful experience; and in spite of the tears + on her cheeks she was not sorry to have known it. Two facts, however, took + the edge from its perfection: that it had happened in the shop, and that + she had not had on her black silk. + </p> + <p> + She passed the next hour in a state of dreamy ecstasy. Something had + entered into her life of which no subsequent empoverishment could rob it: + she glowed with the same rich sense of possessorship that once, as a + little girl, she had felt when her mother had given her a gold locket and + she had sat up in bed in the dark to draw it from its hiding-place beneath + her night-gown. + </p> + <p> + At length a dread of Evelina's return began to mingle with these musings. + How could she meet her younger sister's eye without betraying what had + happened? She felt as though a visible glory lay on her, and she was glad + that dusk had fallen when Evelina entered. But her fears were superfluous. + Evelina, always self-absorbed, had of late lost all interest in the simple + happenings of the shop, and Ann Eliza, with mingled mortification and + relief, perceived that she was in no danger of being cross-questioned as + to the events of the afternoon. She was glad of this; yet there was a + touch of humiliation in finding that the portentous secret in her bosom + did not visibly shine forth. It struck her as dull, and even slightly + absurd, of Evelina not to know at last that they were equals. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART" id="link2H_PART"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART II + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Ramy, after a decent interval, returned to the shop; and Ann Eliza, + when they met, was unable to detect whether the emotions which seethed + under her black alpaca found an echo in his bosom. Outwardly he made no + sign. He lit his pipe as placidly as ever and seemed to relapse without + effort into the unruffled intimacy of old. Yet to Ann Eliza's initiated + eye a change became gradually perceptible. She saw that he was beginning + to look at her sister as he had looked at her on that momentous afternoon: + she even discerned a secret significance in the turn of his talk with + Evelina. Once he asked her abruptly if she should like to travel, and Ann + Eliza saw that the flush on Evelina's cheek was reflected from the same + fire which had scorched her own. + </p> + <p> + So they drifted on through the sultry weeks of July. At that season the + business of the little shop almost ceased, and one Saturday morning Mr. + Ramy proposed that the sisters should lock up early and go with him for a + sail down the bay in one of the Coney Island boats. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza saw the light in Evelina's eye and her resolve was instantly + taken. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I won't go, thank you kindly; but I'm sure my sister will be + happy to.” + </p> + <p> + She was pained by the perfunctory phrase with which Evelina urged her to + accompany them; and still more by Mr. Ramy's silence. + </p> + <p> + “No, I guess I won't go,” she repeated, rather in answer to herself than + to them. “It's dreadfully hot and I've got a kinder headache.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, I wouldn't then,” said her sister hurriedly. “You'd better jest + set here quietly and rest.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I'll rest,” Ann Eliza assented. + </p> + <p> + At two o'clock Mr. Ramy returned, and a moment later he and Evelina left + the shop. Evelina had made herself another new bonnet for the occasion, a + bonnet, Ann Eliza thought, almost too youthful in shape and colour. It was + the first time it had ever occurred to her to criticize Evelina's taste, + and she was frightened at the insidious change in her attitude toward her + sister. + </p> + <p> + When Ann Eliza, in later days, looked back on that afternoon she felt that + there had been something prophetic in the quality of its solitude; it + seemed to distill the triple essence of loneliness in which all her + after-life was to be lived. No purchasers came; not a hand fell on the + door-latch; and the tick of the clock in the back room ironically + emphasized the passing of the empty hours. + </p> + <p> + Evelina returned late and alone. Ann Eliza felt the coming crisis in the + sound of her footstep, which wavered along as if not knowing on what it + trod. The elder sister's affection had so passionately projected itself + into her junior's fate that at such moments she seemed to be living two + lives, her own and Evelina's; and her private longings shrank into silence + at the sight of the other's hungry bliss. But it was evident that Evelina, + never acutely alive to the emotional atmosphere about her, had no idea + that her secret was suspected; and with an assumption of unconcern that + would have made Ann Eliza smile if the pang had been less piercing, the + younger sister prepared to confess herself. + </p> + <p> + “What are you so busy about?” she said impatiently, as Ann Eliza, beneath + the gas-jet, fumbled for the matches. “Ain't you even got time to ask me + if I'd had a pleasant day?” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza turned with a quiet smile. “I guess I don't have to. Seems to me + it's pretty plain you have.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't know. I don't know <i>how</i> I feel—it's all so queer. I + almost think I'd like to scream.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess you're tired.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I ain't. It's not that. But it all happened so suddenly, and the boat + was so crowded I thought everybody'd hear what he was saying.—Ann + Eliza,” she broke out, “why on earth don't you ask me what I'm talking + about?” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, with a last effort of heroism, feigned a fond incomprehension. + </p> + <p> + “What <i>are</i> you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I'm engaged to be married—so there! Now it's out! And it + happened right on the boat; only to think of it! Of course I wasn't + exactly surprised—I've known right along he was going to sooner or + later—on'y somehow I didn't think of its happening to-day. I thought + he'd never get up his courage. He said he was so 'fraid I'd say no—that's + what kep' him so long from asking me. Well, I ain't said yes <i>yet</i>—leastways + I told him I'd have to think it over; but I guess he knows. Oh, Ann Eliza, + I'm so happy!” She hid the blinding brightness of her face. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, just then, would only let herself feel that she was glad. She + drew down Evelina's hands and kissed her, and they held each other. When + Evelina regained her voice she had a tale to tell which carried their + vigil far into the night. Not a syllable, not a glance or gesture of + Ramy's, was the elder sister spared; and with unconscious irony she found + herself comparing the details of his proposal to her with those which + Evelina was imparting with merciless prolixity. + </p> + <p> + The next few days were taken up with the embarrassed adjustment of their + new relation to Mr. Ramy and to each other. Ann Eliza's ardour carried her + to new heights of self-effacement, and she invented late duties in the + shop in order to leave Evelina and her suitor longer alone in the back + room. Later on, when she tried to remember the details of those first + days, few came back to her: she knew only that she got up each morning + with the sense of having to push the leaden hours up the same long steep + of pain. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ramy came daily now. Every evening he and his betrothed went out for a + stroll around the Square, and when Evelina came in her cheeks were always + pink. “He's kissed her under that tree at the corner, away from the + lamp-post,” Ann Eliza said to herself, with sudden insight into + unconjectured things. On Sundays they usually went for the whole afternoon + to the Central Park, and Ann Eliza, from her seat in the mortal hush of + the back room, followed step by step their long slow beatific walk. + </p> + <p> + There had been, as yet, no allusion to their marriage, except that Evelina + had once told her sister that Mr. Ramy wished them to invite Mrs. + Hochmuller and Linda to the wedding. The mention of the laundress raised a + half-forgotten fear in Ann Eliza, and she said in a tone of tentative + appeal: “I guess if I was you I wouldn't want to be very great friends + with Mrs. Hochmuller.” + </p> + <p> + Evelina glanced at her compassionately. “I guess if you was me you'd want + to do everything you could to please the man you loved. It's lucky,” she + added with glacial irony, “that I'm not too grand for Herman's friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” Ann Eliza protested, “that ain't what I mean—and you know it + ain't. Only somehow the day we saw her I didn't think she seemed like the + kinder person you'd want for a friend.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess a married woman's the best judge of such matters,” Evelina + replied, as though she already walked in the light of her future state. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, after that, kept her own counsel. She saw that Evelina wanted + her sympathy as little as her admonitions, and that already she counted + for nothing in her sister's scheme of life. To Ann Eliza's idolatrous + acceptance of the cruelties of fate this exclusion seemed both natural and + just; but it caused her the most lively pain. She could not divest her + love for Evelina of its passionate motherliness; no breath of reason could + lower it to the cool temperature of sisterly affection. + </p> + <p> + She was then passing, as she thought, through the novitiate of her pain; + preparing, in a hundred experimental ways, for the solitude awaiting her + when Evelina left. It was true that it would be a tempered loneliness. + They would not be far apart. Evelina would “run in” daily from the + clock-maker's; they would doubtless take supper with her on Sundays. But + already Ann Eliza guessed with what growing perfunctoriness her sister + would fulfill these obligations; she even foresaw the day when, to get + news of Evelina, she should have to lock the shop at nightfall and go + herself to Mr. Ramy's door. But on that contingency she would not dwell. + “They can come to me when they want to—they'll always find me here,” + she simply said to herself. + </p> + <p> + One evening Evelina came in flushed and agitated from her stroll around + the Square. Ann Eliza saw at once that something had happened; but the new + habit of reticence checked her question. + </p> + <p> + She had not long to wait. “Oh, Ann Eliza, on'y to think what he says—” + (the pronoun stood exclusively for Mr. Ramy). “I declare I'm so upset I + thought the people in the Square would notice me. Don't I look queer? He + wants to get married right off—this very next week.” + </p> + <p> + “Next week?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. So's we can move out to St. Louis right away.” + </p> + <p> + “Him and you—move out to St. Louis?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't know as it would be natural for him to want to go out there + without me,” Evelina simpered. “But it's all so sudden I don't know what + to think. He only got the letter this morning. <i>Do</i> I look queer, Ann + Eliza?” Her eye was roving for the mirror. + </p> + <p> + “No, you don't,” said Ann Eliza almost harshly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's a mercy,” Evelina pursued with a tinge of disappointment. + “It's a regular miracle I didn't faint right out there in the Square. + Herman's so thoughtless—he just put the letter into my hand without + a word. It's from a big firm out there—the Tiff'ny of St. Louis, he + says it is—offering him a place in their clock-department. Seems + they heard of him through a German friend of his that's settled out there. + It's a splendid opening, and if he gives satisfaction they'll raise him at + the end of the year.” + </p> + <p> + She paused, flushed with the importance of the situation, which seemed to + lift her once for all above the dull level of her former life. + </p> + <p> + “Then you'll have to go?” came at last from Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + Evelina stared. “You wouldn't have me interfere with his prospects, would + you?” + </p> + <p> + “No—no. I on'y meant—has it got to be so soon?” + </p> + <p> + “Right away, I tell you—next week. Ain't it awful?” blushed the + bride. + </p> + <p> + Well, this was what happened to mothers. They bore it, Ann Eliza mused; so + why not she? Ah, but they had their own chance first; she had had no + chance at all. And now this life which she had made her own was going from + her forever; had gone, already, in the inner and deeper sense, and was + soon to vanish in even its outward nearness, its surface-communion of + voice and eye. At that moment even the thought of Evelina's happiness + refused her its consolatory ray; or its light, if she saw it, was too + remote to warm her. The thirst for a personal and inalienable tie, for + pangs and problems of her own, was parching Ann Eliza's soul: it seemed to + her that she could never again gather strength to look her loneliness in + the face. + </p> + <p> + The trivial obligations of the moment came to her aid. Nursed in idleness + her grief would have mastered her; but the needs of the shop and the back + room, and the preparations for Evelina's marriage, kept the tyrant under. + </p> + <p> + Miss Mellins, true to her anticipations, had been called on to aid in the + making of the wedding dress, and she and Ann Eliza were bending one + evening over the breadths of pearl-grey cashmere which in spite of the + dress-maker's prophetic vision of gored satin, had been judged most + suitable, when Evelina came into the room alone. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza had already had occasion to notice that it was a bad sign when + Mr. Ramy left his affianced at the door. It generally meant that Evelina + had something disturbing to communicate, and Ann Eliza's first glance told + her that this time the news was grave. + </p> + <p> + Miss Mellins, who sat with her back to the door and her head bent over her + sewing, started as Evelina came around to the opposite side of the table. + </p> + <p> + “Mercy, Miss Evelina! I declare I thought you was a ghost, the way you + crep' in. I had a customer once up in Forty-ninth Street—a lovely + young woman with a thirty-six bust and a waist you could ha' put into her + wedding ring—and her husband, he crep' up behind her that way jest + for a joke, and frightened her into a fit, and when she come to she was a + raving maniac, and had to be taken to Bloomingdale with two doctors and a + nurse to hold her in the carriage, and a lovely baby on'y six weeks old—and + there she is to this day, poor creature.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't mean to startle you,” said Evelina. + </p> + <p> + She sat down on the nearest chair, and as the lamp-light fell on her face + Ann Eliza saw that she had been crying. + </p> + <p> + “You do look dead-beat,” Miss Mellins resumed, after a pause of + soul-probing scrutiny. “I guess Mr. Ramy lugs you round that Square too + often. You'll walk your legs off if you ain't careful. Men don't never + consider—they're all alike. Why, I had a cousin once that was + engaged to a book-agent—” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe we'd better put away the work for to-night, Miss Mellins,” Ann + Eliza interposed. “I guess what Evelina wants is a good night's rest.” + </p> + <p> + “That's so,” assented the dress-maker. “Have you got the back breadths run + together, Miss Bunner? Here's the sleeves. I'll pin 'em together.” She + drew a cluster of pins from her mouth, in which she seemed to secrete them + as squirrels stow away nuts. “There,” she said, rolling up her work, “you + go right away to bed, Miss Evelina, and we'll set up a little later + to-morrow night. I guess you're a mite nervous, ain't you? I know when my + turn comes I'll be scared to death.” + </p> + <p> + With this arch forecast she withdrew, and Ann Eliza, returning to the back + room, found Evelina still listlessly seated by the table. True to her new + policy of silence, the elder sister set about folding up the bridal dress; + but suddenly Evelina said in a harsh unnatural voice: “There ain't any use + in going on with that.” + </p> + <p> + The folds slipped from Ann Eliza's hands. + </p> + <p> + “Evelina Bunner—what you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Jest what I say. It's put off.” + </p> + <p> + “Put off—what's put off?” + </p> + <p> + “Our getting married. He can't take me to St. Louis. He ain't got money + enough.” She brought the words out in the monotonous tone of a child + reciting a lesson. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza picked up another breadth of cashmere and began to smooth it + out. “I don't understand,” she said at length. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's plain enough. The journey's fearfully expensive, and we've got + to have something left to start with when we get out there. We've counted + up, and he ain't got the money to do it—that's all.” + </p> + <p> + “But I thought he was going right into a splendid place.” + </p> + <p> + “So he is; but the salary's pretty low the first year, and board's very + high in St. Louis. He's jest got another letter from his German friend, + and he's been figuring it out, and he's afraid to chance it. He'll have to + go alone.” + </p> + <p> + “But there's your money—have you forgotten that? The hundred dollars + in the bank.” + </p> + <p> + Evelina made an impatient movement. “Of course I ain't forgotten it. On'y + it ain't enough. It would all have to go into buying furniture, and if he + was took sick and lost his place again we wouldn't have a cent left. He + says he's got to lay by another hundred dollars before he'll be willing to + take me out there.” + </p> + <p> + For a while Ann Eliza pondered this surprising statement; then she + ventured: “Seems to me he might have thought of it before.” + </p> + <p> + In an instant Evelina was aflame. “I guess he knows what's right as well + as you or me. I'd sooner die than be a burden to him.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza made no answer. The clutch of an unformulated doubt had checked + the words on her lips. She had meant, on the day of her sister's marriage, + to give Evelina the other half of their common savings; but something + warned her not to say so now. + </p> + <p> + The sisters undressed without farther words. After they had gone to bed, + and the light had been put out, the sound of Evelina's weeping came to Ann + Eliza in the darkness, but she lay motionless on her own side of the bed, + out of contact with her sister's shaken body. Never had she felt so coldly + remote from Evelina. + </p> + <p> + The hours of the night moved slowly, ticked off with wearisome insistence + by the clock which had played so prominent a part in their lives. + Evelina's sobs still stirred the bed at gradually lengthening intervals, + till at length Ann Eliza thought she slept. But with the dawn the eyes of + the sisters met, and Ann Eliza's courage failed her as she looked in + Evelina's face. + </p> + <p> + She sat up in bed and put out a pleading hand. + </p> + <p> + “Don't cry so, dearie. Don't.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I can't bear it, I can't bear it,” Evelina moaned. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza stroked her quivering shoulder. “Don't, don't,” she repeated. + “If you take the other hundred, won't that be enough? I always meant to + give it to you. On'y I didn't want to tell you till your wedding day.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX + </h2> + <p> + Evelina's marriage took place on the appointed day. It was celebrated in + the evening, in the chantry of the church which the sisters attended, and + after it was over the few guests who had been present repaired to the + Bunner Sisters' basement, where a wedding supper awaited them. Ann Eliza, + aided by Miss Mellins and Mrs. Hawkins, and consciously supported by the + sentimental interest of the whole street, had expended her utmost energy + on the decoration of the shop and the back room. On the table a vase of + white chrysanthemums stood between a dish of oranges and bananas and an + iced wedding-cake wreathed with orange-blossoms of the bride's own making. + Autumn leaves studded with paper roses festooned the what-not and the + chromo of the Rock of Ages, and a wreath of yellow immortelles was twined + about the clock which Evelina revered as the mysterious agent of her + happiness. + </p> + <p> + At the table sat Miss Mellins, profusely spangled and bangled, her head + sewing-girl, a pale young thing who had helped with Evelina's outfit, Mr. + and Mrs. Hawkins, with Johnny, their eldest boy, and Mrs. Hochmuller and + her daughter. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hochmuller's large blonde personality seemed to pervade the room to + the effacement of the less amply-proportioned guests. It was rendered more + impressive by a dress of crimson poplin that stood out from her in + organ-like folds; and Linda, whom Ann Eliza had remembered as an uncouth + child with a sly look about the eyes, surprised her by a sudden blossoming + into feminine grace such as sometimes follows on a gawky girlhood. The + Hochmullers, in fact, struck the dominant note in the entertainment. + Beside them Evelina, unusually pale in her grey cashmere and white bonnet, + looked like a faintly washed sketch beside a brilliant chromo; and Mr. + Ramy, doomed to the traditional insignificance of the bridegroom's part, + made no attempt to rise above his situation. Even Miss Mellins sparkled + and jingled in vain in the shadow of Mrs. Hochmuller's crimson bulk; and + Ann Eliza, with a sense of vague foreboding, saw that the wedding feast + centred about the two guests she had most wished to exclude from it. What + was said or done while they all sat about the table she never afterward + recalled: the long hours remained in her memory as a whirl of high colours + and loud voices, from which the pale presence of Evelina now and then + emerged like a drowned face on a sunset-dabbled sea. + </p> + <p> + The next morning Mr. Ramy and his wife started for St. Louis, and Ann + Eliza was left alone. Outwardly the first strain of parting was tempered + by the arrival of Miss Mellins, Mrs. Hawkins and Johnny, who dropped in to + help in the ungarlanding and tidying up of the back room. Ann Eliza was + duly grateful for their kindness, but the “talking over” on which they had + evidently counted was Dead Sea fruit on her lips; and just beyond the + familiar warmth of their presences she saw the form of Solitude at her + door. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza was but a small person to harbour so great a guest, and a + trembling sense of insufficiency possessed her. She had no high musings to + offer to the new companion of her hearth. Every one of her thoughts had + hitherto turned to Evelina and shaped itself in homely easy words; of the + mighty speech of silence she knew not the earliest syllable. + </p> + <p> + Everything in the back room and the shop, on the second day after + Evelina's going, seemed to have grown coldly unfamiliar. The whole aspect + of the place had changed with the changed conditions of Ann Eliza's life. + The first customer who opened the shop-door startled her like a ghost; and + all night she lay tossing on her side of the bed, sinking now and then + into an uncertain doze from which she would suddenly wake to reach out her + hand for Evelina. In the new silence surrounding her the walls and + furniture found voice, frightening her at dusk and midnight with strange + sighs and stealthy whispers. Ghostly hands shook the window shutters or + rattled at the outer latch, and once she grew cold at the sound of a step + like Evelina's stealing through the dark shop to die out on the threshold. + In time, of course, she found an explanation for these noises, telling + herself that the bedstead was warping, that Miss Mellins trod heavily + overhead, or that the thunder of passing beer-waggons shook the + door-latch; but the hours leading up to these conclusions were full of the + floating terrors that harden into fixed foreboding. Worst of all were the + solitary meals, when she absently continued to set aside the largest slice + of pie for Evelina, and to let the tea grow cold while she waited for her + sister to help herself to the first cup. Miss Mellins, coming in on one of + these sad repasts, suggested the acquisition of a cat; but Ann Eliza shook + her head. She had never been used to animals, and she felt the vague + shrinking of the pious from creatures divided from her by the abyss of + soullessness. + </p> + <p> + At length, after ten empty days, Evelina's first letter came. + </p> + <p> + “<span class="smcap">My dear Sister</span>,” she wrote, in her pinched Spencerian hand, “it seems + strange to be in this great City so far from home alone with him I have + chosen for life, but marriage has its solemn duties which those who are + not can never hope to understand, and happier perhaps for this reason, + life for them has only simple tasks and pleasures, but those who must take + thought for others must be prepared to do their duty in whatever station + it has pleased the Almighty to call them. Not that I have cause to + complain, my dear Husband is all love and devotion, but being absent all + day at his business how can I help but feel lonesome at times, as the poet + says it is hard for they that love to live apart, and I often wonder, my + dear Sister, how you are getting along alone in the store, may you never + experience the feelings of solitude I have underwent since I came here. We + are boarding now, but soon expect to find rooms and change our place of + Residence, then I shall have all the care of a household to bear, but such + is the fate of those who join their Lot with others, they cannot hope to + escape from the burdens of Life, nor would I ask it, I would not live + alway but while I live would always pray for strength to do my duty. This + city is not near as large or handsome as New York, but had my lot been + cast in a Wilderness I hope I should not repine, such never was my nature, + and they who exchange their independence for the sweet name of Wife must + be prepared to find all is not gold that glitters, nor I would not expect + like you to drift down the stream of Life unfettered and serene as a + Summer cloud, such is not my fate, but come what may will always find in + me a resigned and prayerful Spirit, and hoping this finds you as well as + it leaves me, I remain, my dear Sister, + </p> + <p> + “Yours truly, + </p> + <p> + “<span class="smcap">Evelina B. Ramy</span>.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza had always secretly admired the oratorical and impersonal tone + of Evelina's letters; but the few she had previously read, having been + addressed to school-mates or distant relatives, had appeared in the light + of literary compositions rather than as records of personal experience. + Now she could not but wish that Evelina had laid aside her swelling + periods for a style more suited to the chronicling of homely incidents. + She read the letter again and again, seeking for a clue to what her sister + was really doing and thinking; but after each reading she emerged + impressed but unenlightened from the labyrinth of Evelina's eloquence. + </p> + <p> + During the early winter she received two or three more letters of the same + kind, each enclosing in its loose husk of rhetoric a smaller kernel of + fact. By dint of patient interlinear study, Ann Eliza gathered from them + that Evelina and her husband, after various costly experiments in + boarding, had been reduced to a tenement-house flat; that living in St. + Louis was more expensive than they had supposed, and that Mr. Ramy was + kept out late at night (why, at a jeweller's, Ann Eliza wondered?) and + found his position less satisfactory than he had been led to expect. + Toward February the letters fell off; and finally they ceased to come. + </p> + <p> + At first Ann Eliza wrote, shyly but persistently, entreating for more + frequent news; then, as one appeal after another was swallowed up in the + mystery of Evelina's protracted silence, vague fears began to assail the + elder sister. Perhaps Evelina was ill, and with no one to nurse her but a + man who could not even make himself a cup of tea! Ann Eliza recalled the + layer of dust in Mr. Ramy's shop, and pictures of domestic disorder + mingled with the more poignant vision of her sister's illness. But surely + if Evelina were ill Mr. Ramy would have written. He wrote a small neat + hand, and epistolary communication was not an insuperable embarrassment to + him. The too probable alternative was that both the unhappy pair had been + prostrated by some disease which left them powerless to summon her—for + summon her they surely would, Ann Eliza with unconscious cynicism + reflected, if she or her small economies could be of use to them! The more + she strained her eyes into the mystery, the darker it grew; and her lack + of initiative, her inability to imagine what steps might be taken to trace + the lost in distant places, left her benumbed and helpless. + </p> + <p> + At last there floated up from some depth of troubled memory the name of + the firm of St. Louis jewellers by whom Mr. Ramy was employed. After much + hesitation, and considerable effort, she addressed to them a timid request + for news of her brother-in-law; and sooner than she could have hoped the + answer reached her. + </p> + <p> + “<span class="smcap">Dear Madam</span>, + </p> + <p> + “In reply to yours of the 29th ult. we beg to state the party you refer to + was discharged from our employ a month ago. We are sorry we are unable to + furnish you wish his address. + </p> + <p> + “Yours Respectfully, + </p> + <p> + “<span class="smcap">Ludwig And Hammerbusch</span>.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza read and re-read the curt statement in a stupor of distress. She + had lost her last trace of Evelina. All that night she lay awake, + revolving the stupendous project of going to St. Louis in search of her + sister; but though she pieced together her few financial possibilities + with the ingenuity of a brain used to fitting odd scraps into patch-work + quilts, she woke to the cold daylight fact that she could not raise the + money for her fare. Her wedding gift to Evelina had left her without any + resources beyond her daily earnings, and these had steadily dwindled as + the winter passed. She had long since renounced her weekly visit to the + butcher, and had reduced her other expenses to the narrowest measure; but + the most systematic frugality had not enabled her to put by any money. In + spite of her dogged efforts to maintain the prosperity of the little shop, + her sister's absence had already told on its business. Now that Ann Eliza + had to carry the bundles to the dyer's herself, the customers who called + in her absence, finding the shop locked, too often went elsewhere. + Moreover, after several stern but unavailing efforts, she had had to give + up the trimming of bonnets, which in Evelina's hands had been the most + lucrative as well as the most interesting part of the business. This + change, to the passing female eye, robbed the shop window of its chief + attraction; and when painful experience had convinced the regular + customers of the Bunner Sisters of Ann Eliza's lack of millinery skill + they began to lose faith in her ability to curl a feather or even “freshen + up” a bunch of flowers. The time came when Ann Eliza had almost made up + her mind to speak to the lady with puffed sleeves, who had always looked + at her so kindly, and had once ordered a hat of Evelina. Perhaps the lady + with puffed sleeves would be able to get her a little plain sewing to do; + or she might recommend the shop to friends. Ann Eliza, with this + possibility in view, rummaged out of a drawer the fly-blown remainder of + the business cards which the sisters had ordered in the first flush of + their commercial adventure; but when the lady with puffed sleeves finally + appeared she was in deep mourning, and wore so sad a look that Ann Eliza + dared not speak. She came in to buy some spools of black thread and silk, + and in the doorway she turned back to say: “I am going away to-morrow for + a long time. I hope you will have a pleasant winter.” And the door shut on + her. + </p> + <p> + One day not long after this it occurred to Ann Eliza to go to Hoboken in + quest of Mrs. Hochmuller. Much as she shrank from pouring her distress + into that particular ear, her anxiety had carried her beyond such + reluctance; but when she began to think the matter over she was faced by a + new difficulty. On the occasion of her only visit to Mrs. Hochmuller, she + and Evelina had suffered themselves to be led there by Mr. Ramy; and Ann + Eliza now perceived that she did not even know the name of the laundress's + suburb, much less that of the street in which she lived. But she must have + news of Evelina, and no obstacle was great enough to thwart her. + </p> + <p> + Though she longed to turn to some one for advice she disliked to expose + her situation to Miss Mellins's searching eye, and at first she could + think of no other confidant. Then she remembered Mrs. Hawkins, or rather + her husband, who, though Ann Eliza had always thought him a dull + uneducated man, was probably gifted with the mysterious masculine faculty + of finding out people's addresses. It went hard with Ann Eliza to trust + her secret even to the mild ear of Mrs. Hawkins, but at least she was + spared the cross-examination to which the dress-maker would have subjected + her. The accumulating pressure of domestic cares had so crushed in Mrs. + Hawkins any curiosity concerning the affairs of others that she received + her visitor's confidence with an almost masculine indifference, while she + rocked her teething baby on one arm and with the other tried to check the + acrobatic impulses of the next in age. + </p> + <p> + “My, my,” she simply said as Ann Eliza ended. “Keep still now, Arthur: + Miss Bunner don't want you to jump up and down on her foot to-day. And + what are you gaping at, Johnny? Run right off and play,” she added, + turning sternly to her eldest, who, because he was the least naughty, + usually bore the brunt of her wrath against the others. + </p> + <p> + “Well, perhaps Mr. Hawkins can help you,” Mrs. Hawkins continued + meditatively, while the children, after scattering at her bidding, + returned to their previous pursuits like flies settling down on the spot + from which an exasperated hand has swept them. “I'll send him right round + the minute he comes in, and you can tell him the whole story. I wouldn't + wonder but what he can find that Mrs. Hochmuller's address in the + d'rectory. I know they've got one where he works.” + </p> + <p> + “I'd be real thankful if he could,” Ann Eliza murmured, rising from her + seat with the factitious sense of lightness that comes from imparting a + long-hidden dread. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Hawkins proved himself worthy of his wife's faith in his capacity. He + learned from Ann Eliza as much as she could tell him about Mrs. Hochmuller + and returned the next evening with a scrap of paper bearing her address, + beneath which Johnny (the family scribe) had written in a large round hand + the names of the streets that led there from the ferry. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza lay awake all that night, repeating over and over again the + directions Mr. Hawkins had given her. He was a kind man, and she knew he + would willingly have gone with her to Hoboken; indeed she read in his + timid eye the half-formed intention of offering to accompany her—but + on such an errand she preferred to go alone. + </p> + <p> + The next Sunday, accordingly, she set out early, and without much trouble + found her way to the ferry. Nearly a year had passed since her previous + visit to Mrs. Hochmuller, and a chilly April breeze smote her face as she + stepped on the boat. Most of the passengers were huddled together in the + cabin, and Ann Eliza shrank into its obscurest corner, shivering under the + thin black mantle which had seemed so hot in July. She began to feel a + little bewildered as she stepped ashore, but a paternal policeman put her + into the right car, and as in a dream she found herself retracing the way + to Mrs. Hochmuller's door. She had told the conductor the name of the + street at which she wished to get out, and presently she stood in the + biting wind at the corner near the beer-saloon, where the sun had once + beat down on her so fiercely. At length an empty car appeared, its yellow + flank emblazoned with the name of Mrs. Hochmuller's suburb, and Ann Eliza + was presently jolting past the narrow brick houses islanded between vacant + lots like giant piles in a desolate lagoon. When the car reached the end + of its journey she got out and stood for some time trying to remember + which turn Mr. Ramy had taken. She had just made up her mind to ask the + car-driver when he shook the reins on the backs of his lean horses, and + the car, still empty, jogged away toward Hoboken. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, left alone by the roadside, began to move cautiously forward, + looking about for a small red house with a gable overhung by an elm-tree; + but everything about her seemed unfamiliar and forbidding. One or two + surly looking men slouched past with inquisitive glances, and she could + not make up her mind to stop and speak to them. + </p> + <p> + At length a tow-headed boy came out of a swinging door suggestive of + illicit conviviality, and to him Ann Eliza ventured to confide her + difficulty. The offer of five cents fired him with an instant willingness + to lead her to Mrs. Hochmuller, and he was soon trotting past the + stone-cutter's yard with Ann Eliza in his wake. + </p> + <p> + Another turn in the road brought them to the little red house, and having + rewarded her guide Ann Eliza unlatched the gate and walked up to the door. + Her heart was beating violently, and she had to lean against the door-post + to compose her twitching lips: she had not known till that moment how much + it was going to hurt her to speak of Evelina to Mrs. Hochmuller. As her + agitation subsided she began to notice how much the appearance of the + house had changed. It was not only that winter had stripped the elm, and + blackened the flower-borders: the house itself had a debased and deserted + air. The window-panes were cracked and dirty, and one or two shutters + swung dismally on loosened hinges. + </p> + <p> + She rang several times before the door was opened. At length an Irish + woman with a shawl over her head and a baby in her arms appeared on the + threshold, and glancing past her into the narrow passage Ann Eliza saw + that Mrs. Hochmuller's neat abode had deteriorated as much within as + without. + </p> + <p> + At the mention of the name the woman stared. “Mrs. who, did ye say?” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Hochmuller. This is surely her house?” + </p> + <p> + “No, it ain't neither,” said the woman turning away. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but wait, please,” Ann Eliza entreated. “I can't be mistaken. I mean + the Mrs. Hochmuller who takes in washing. I came out to see her last + June.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the Dutch washerwoman is it—her that used to live here? She's + been gone two months and more. It's Mike McNulty lives here now. Whisht!” + to the baby, who had squared his mouth for a howl. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza's knees grew weak. “Mrs. Hochmuller gone? But where has she + gone? She must be somewhere round here. Can't you tell me?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure an' I can't,” said the woman. “She wint away before iver we come.” + </p> + <p> + “Dalia Geoghegan, will ye bring the choild in out av the cowld?” cried an + irate voice from within. + </p> + <p> + “Please wait—oh, please wait,” Ann Eliza insisted. “You see I must + find Mrs. Hochmuller.” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't ye go and look for her thin?” the woman returned, slamming the + door in her face. + </p> + <p> + She stood motionless on the door-step, dazed by the immensity of her + disappointment, till a burst of loud voices inside the house drove her + down the path and out of the gate. + </p> + <p> + Even then she could not grasp what had happened, and pausing in the road + she looked back at the house, half hoping that Mrs. Hochmuller's once + detested face might appear at one of the grimy windows. + </p> + <p> + She was roused by an icy wind that seemed to spring up suddenly from the + desolate scene, piercing her thin dress like gauze; and turning away she + began to retrace her steps. She thought of enquiring for Mrs. Hochmuller + at some of the neighbouring houses, but their look was so unfriendly that + she walked on without making up her mind at which door to ring. When she + reached the horse-car terminus a car was just moving off toward Hoboken, + and for nearly an hour she had to wait on the corner in the bitter wind. + Her hands and feet were stiff with cold when the car at length loomed into + sight again, and she thought of stopping somewhere on the way to the ferry + for a cup of tea; but before the region of lunch-rooms was reached she had + grown so sick and dizzy that the thought of food was repulsive. At length + she found herself on the ferry-boat, in the soothing stuffiness of the + crowded cabin; then came another interval of shivering on a street-corner, + another long jolting journey in a “cross-town” car that smelt of damp + straw and tobacco; and lastly, in the cold spring dusk, she unlocked her + door and groped her way through the shop to her fireless bedroom. + </p> + <p> + The next morning Mrs. Hawkins, dropping in to hear the result of the trip, + found Ann Eliza sitting behind the counter wrapped in an old shawl. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Miss Bunner, you're sick! You must have fever—your face is + just as red!” + </p> + <p> + “It's nothing. I guess I caught cold yesterday on the ferry-boat,” Ann + Eliza acknowledged. + </p> + <p> + “And it's jest like a vault in here!” Mrs. Hawkins rebuked her. “Let me + feel your hand—it's burning. Now, Miss Bunner, you've got to go + right to bed this very minute.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but I can't, Mrs. Hawkins.” Ann Eliza attempted a wan smile. “You + forget there ain't nobody but me to tend the store.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess you won't tend it long neither, if you ain't careful,” Mrs. + Hawkins grimly rejoined. Beneath her placid exterior she cherished a + morbid passion for disease and death, and the sight of Ann Eliza's + suffering had roused her from her habitual indifference. “There ain't so + many folks comes to the store anyhow,” she went on with unconscious + cruelty, “and I'll go right up and see if Miss Mellins can't spare one of + her girls.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, too weary to resist, allowed Mrs. Hawkins to put her to bed and + make a cup of tea over the stove, while Miss Mellins, always + good-naturedly responsive to any appeal for help, sent down the weak-eyed + little girl to deal with hypothetical customers. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, having so far abdicated her independence, sank into sudden + apathy. As far as she could remember, it was the first time in her life + that she had been taken care of instead of taking care, and there was a + momentary relief in the surrender. She swallowed the tea like an obedient + child, allowed a poultice to be applied to her aching chest and uttered no + protest when a fire was kindled in the rarely used grate; but as Mrs. + Hawkins bent over to “settle” her pillows she raised herself on her elbow + to whisper: “Oh, Mrs. Hawkins, Mrs. Hochmuller warn't there.” The tears + rolled down her cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “She warn't there? Has she moved?” + </p> + <p> + “Over two months ago—and they don't know where she's gone. Oh + what'll I do, Mrs. Hawkins?” + </p> + <p> + “There, there, Miss Bunner. You lay still and don't fret. I'll ask Mr. + Hawkins soon as ever he comes home.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza murmured her gratitude, and Mrs. Hawkins, bending down, kissed + her on the forehead. “Don't you fret,” she repeated, in the voice with + which she soothed her children. + </p> + <p> + For over a week Ann Eliza lay in bed, faithfully nursed by her two + neighbours, while the weak-eyed child, and the pale sewing girl who had + helped to finish Evelina's wedding dress, took turns in minding the shop. + Every morning, when her friends appeared, Ann Eliza lifted her head to + ask: “Is there a letter?” and at their gentle negative sank back in + silence. Mrs. Hawkins, for several days, spoke no more of her promise to + consult her husband as to the best way of tracing Mrs. Hochmuller; and + dread of fresh disappointment kept Ann Eliza from bringing up the subject. + </p> + <p> + But the following Sunday evening, as she sat for the first time bolstered + up in her rocking-chair near the stove, while Miss Mellins studied the + Police Gazette beneath the lamp, there came a knock on the shop-door and + Mr. Hawkins entered. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza's first glance at his plain friendly face showed her he had news + to give, but though she no longer attempted to hide her anxiety from Miss + Mellins, her lips trembled too much to let her speak. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, Miss Bunner,” said Mr. Hawkins in his dragging voice. “I've + been over to Hoboken all day looking round for Mrs. Hochmuller.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mr. Hawkins—you <i>have</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “I made a thorough search, but I'm sorry to say it was no use. She's left + Hoboken—moved clear away, and nobody seems to know where.” + </p> + <p> + “It was real good of you, Mr. Hawkins.” Ann Eliza's voice struggled up in + a faint whisper through the submerging tide of her disappointment. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hawkins, in his embarrassed sense of being the bringer of bad news, + stood before her uncertainly; then he turned to go. “No trouble at all,” + he paused to assure her from the doorway. + </p> + <p> + She wanted to speak again, to detain him, to ask him to advise her; but + the words caught in her throat and she lay back silent. + </p> + <p> + The next day she got up early, and dressed and bonneted herself with + twitching fingers. She waited till the weak-eyed child appeared, and + having laid on her minute instructions as to the care of the shop, she + slipped out into the street. It had occurred to her in one of the weary + watches of the previous night that she might go to Tiffany's and make + enquiries about Ramy's past. Possibly in that way she might obtain some + information that would suggest a new way of reaching Evelina. She was + guiltily aware that Mrs. Hawkins and Miss Mellins would be angry with her + for venturing out of doors, but she knew she should never feel any better + till she had news of Evelina. + </p> + <p> + The morning air was sharp, and as she turned to face the wind she felt so + weak and unsteady that she wondered if she should ever get as far as Union + Square; but by walking very slowly, and standing still now and then when + she could do so without being noticed, she found herself at last before + the jeweller's great glass doors. + </p> + <p> + It was still so early that there were no purchasers in the shop, and she + felt herself the centre of innumerable unemployed eyes as she moved + forward between long lines of show-cases glittering with diamonds and + silver. + </p> + <p> + She was glancing about in the hope of finding the clock-department without + having to approach one of the impressive gentlemen who paced the empty + aisles, when she attracted the attention of one of the most impressive of + the number. + </p> + <p> + The formidable benevolence with which he enquired what he could do for her + made her almost despair of explaining herself; but she finally + disentangled from a flurry of wrong beginnings the request to be shown to + the clock-department. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman considered her thoughtfully. “May I ask what style of clock + you are looking for? Would it be for a wedding-present, or—?” + </p> + <p> + The irony of the allusion filled Ann Eliza's veins with sudden strength. + “I don't want to buy a clock at all. I want to see the head of the + department.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Loomis?” His stare still weighed her—then he seemed to brush + aside the problem she presented as beneath his notice. “Oh, certainly. + Take the elevator to the second floor. Next aisle to the left.” He waved + her down the endless perspective of show-cases. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza followed the line of his lordly gesture, and a swift ascent + brought her to a great hall full of the buzzing and booming of thousands + of clocks. Whichever way she looked, clocks stretched away from her in + glittering interminable vistas: clocks of all sizes and voices, from the + bell-throated giant of the hallway to the chirping dressing-table toy; + tall clocks of mahogany and brass with cathedral chimes; clocks of bronze, + glass, porcelain, of every possible size, voice and configuration; and + between their serried ranks, along the polished floor of the aisles, moved + the languid forms of other gentlemanly floor-walkers, waiting for their + duties to begin. + </p> + <p> + One of them soon approached, and Ann Eliza repeated her request. He + received it affably. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Loomis? Go right down to the office at the other end.” He pointed to + a kind of box of ground glass and highly polished panelling. + </p> + <p> + As she thanked him he turned to one of his companions and said something + in which she caught the name of Mr. Loomis, and which was received with an + appreciative chuckle. She suspected herself of being the object of the + pleasantry, and straightened her thin shoulders under her mantle. + </p> + <p> + The door of the office stood open, and within sat a gray-bearded man at a + desk. He looked up kindly, and again she asked for Mr. Loomis. + </p> + <p> + “I'm Mr. Loomis. What can I do for you?” + </p> + <p> + He was much less portentous than the others, though she guessed him to be + above them in authority; and encouraged by his tone she seated herself on + the edge of the chair he waved her to. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you'll excuse my troubling you, sir. I came to ask if you could + tell me anything about Mr. Herman Ramy. He was employed here in the + clock-department two or three years ago.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Loomis showed no recognition of the name. + </p> + <p> + “Ramy? When was he discharged?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't har'ly know. He was very sick, and when he got well his place had + been filled. He married my sister last October and they went to St. Louis, + I ain't had any news of them for over two months, and she's my only + sister, and I'm most crazy worrying about her.” + </p> + <p> + “I see.” Mr. Loomis reflected. “In what capacity was Ramy employed here?” + he asked after a moment. + </p> + <p> + “He—he told us that he was one of the heads of the + clock-department,” Ann Eliza stammered, overswept by a sudden doubt. + </p> + <p> + “That was probably a slight exaggeration. But I can tell you about him by + referring to our books. The name again?” + </p> + <p> + “Ramy—Herman Ramy.” + </p> + <p> + There ensued a long silence, broken only by the flutter of leaves as Mr. + Loomis turned over his ledgers. Presently he looked up, keeping his finger + between the pages. + </p> + <p> + “Here it is—Herman Ramy. He was one of our ordinary workmen, and + left us three years and a half ago last June.” + </p> + <p> + “On account of sickness?” Ann Eliza faltered. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Loomis appeared to hesitate; then he said: “I see no mention of + sickness.” Ann Eliza felt his compassionate eyes on her again. “Perhaps + I'd better tell you the truth. He was discharged for drug-taking. A + capable workman, but we couldn't keep him straight. I'm sorry to have to + tell you this, but it seems fairer, since you say you're anxious about + your sister.” + </p> + <p> + The polished sides of the office vanished from Ann Eliza's sight, and the + cackle of the innumerable clocks came to her like the yell of waves in a + storm. She tried to speak but could not; tried to get to her feet, but the + floor was gone. + </p> + <p> + “I'm very sorry,” Mr. Loomis repeated, closing the ledger. “I remember the + man perfectly now. He used to disappear every now and then, and turn up + again in a state that made him useless for days.” + </p> + <p> + As she listened, Ann Eliza recalled the day when she had come on Mr. Ramy + sitting in abject dejection behind his counter. She saw again the blurred + unrecognizing eyes he had raised to her, the layer of dust over everything + in the shop, and the green bronze clock in the window representing a + Newfoundland dog with his paw on a book. She stood up slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. I'm sorry to have troubled you.” + </p> + <p> + “It was no trouble. You say Ramy married your sister last October?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; and they went to St. Louis right afterward. I don't know how to + find her. I thought maybe somebody here might know about him.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, possibly some of the workmen might. Leave me your name and I'll + send you word if I get on his track.” + </p> + <p> + He handed her a pencil, and she wrote down her address; then she walked + away blindly between the clocks. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Loomis, true to his word, wrote a few days later that he had enquired + in vain in the work-shop for any news of Ramy; and as she folded this + letter and laid it between the leaves of her Bible, Ann Eliza felt that + her last hope was gone. Miss Mellins, of course, had long since suggested + the mediation of the police, and cited from her favourite literature + convincing instances of the supernatural ability of the Pinkerton + detective; but Mr. Hawkins, when called in council, dashed this project by + remarking that detectives cost something like twenty dollars a day; and a + vague fear of the law, some half-formed vision of Evelina in the clutch of + a blue-coated “officer,” kept Ann Eliza from invoking the aid of the + police. + </p> + <p> + After the arrival of Mr. Loomis's note the weeks followed each other + uneventfully. Ann Eliza's cough clung to her till late in the spring, the + reflection in her looking-glass grew more bent and meagre, and her + forehead sloped back farther toward the twist of hair that was fastened + above her parting by a comb of black India-rubber. + </p> + <p> + Toward spring a lady who was expecting a baby took up her abode at the + Mendoza Family Hotel, and through the friendly intervention of Miss + Mellins the making of some of the baby-clothes was entrusted to Ann Eliza. + This eased her of anxiety for the immediate future; but she had to rouse + herself to feel any sense of relief. Her personal welfare was what least + concerned her. Sometimes she thought of giving up the shop altogether; and + only the fear that, if she changed her address, Evelina might not be able + to find her, kept her from carrying out this plan. + </p> + <p> + Since she had lost her last hope of tracing her sister, all the activities + of her lonely imagination had been concentrated on the possibility of + Evelina's coming back to her. The discovery of Ramy's secret filled her + with dreadful fears. In the solitude of the shop and the back room she was + tortured by vague pictures of Evelina's sufferings. What horrors might not + be hidden beneath her silence? Ann Eliza's great dread was that Miss + Mellins should worm out of her what she had learned from Mr. Loomis. She + was sure Miss Mellins must have abominable things to tell about + drug-fiends—things she did not have the strength to hear. + “Drug-fiend”—the very word was Satanic; she could hear Miss Mellins + roll it on her tongue. But Ann Eliza's own imagination, left to itself, + had begun to people the long hours with evil visions. Sometimes, in the + night, she thought she heard herself called: the voice was her sister's, + but faint with a nameless terror. Her most peaceful moments were those in + which she managed to convince herself that Evelina was dead. She thought + of her then, mournfully but more calmly, as thrust away under the + neglected mound of some unknown cemetery, where no headstone marked her + name, no mourner with flowers for another grave paused in pity to lay a + blossom on hers. But this vision did not often give Ann Eliza its negative + relief; and always, beneath its hazy lines, lurked the dark conviction + that Evelina was alive, in misery and longing for her. + </p> + <p> + So the summer wore on. Ann Eliza was conscious that Mrs. Hawkins and Miss + Mellins were watching her with affectionate anxiety, but the knowledge + brought no comfort. She no longer cared what they felt or thought about + her. Her grief lay far beyond touch of human healing, and after a while + she became aware that they knew they could not help her. They still came + in as often as their busy lives permitted, but their visits grew shorter, + and Mrs. Hawkins always brought Arthur or the baby, so that there should + be something to talk about, and some one whom she could scold. + </p> + <p> + The autumn came, and the winter. Business had fallen off again, and but + few purchasers came to the little shop in the basement. In January Ann + Eliza pawned her mother's cashmere scarf, her mosaic brooch, and the + rosewood what-not on which the clock had always stood; she would have sold + the bedstead too, but for the persistent vision of Evelina returning weak + and weary, and not knowing where to lay her head. + </p> + <p> + The winter passed in its turn, and March reappeared with its galaxies of + yellow jonquils at the windy street corners, reminding Ann Eliza of the + spring day when Evelina had come home with a bunch of jonquils in her + hand. In spite of the flowers which lent such a premature brightness to + the streets the month was fierce and stormy, and Ann Eliza could get no + warmth into her bones. Nevertheless, she was insensibly beginning to take + up the healing routine of life. Little by little she had grown used to + being alone, she had begun to take a languid interest in the one or two + new purchasers the season had brought, and though the thought of Evelina + was as poignant as ever, it was less persistently in the foreground of her + mind. + </p> + <p> + Late one afternoon she was sitting behind the counter, wrapped in her + shawl, and wondering how soon she might draw down the blinds and retreat + into the comparative cosiness of the back room. She was not thinking of + anything in particular, except perhaps in a hazy way of the lady with the + puffed sleeves, who after her long eclipse had reappeared the day before + in sleeves of a new cut, and bought some tape and needles. The lady still + wore mourning, but she was evidently lightening it, and Ann Eliza saw in + this the hope of future orders. The lady had left the shop about an hour + before, walking away with her graceful step toward Fifth Avenue. She had + wished Ann Eliza good day in her usual affable way, and Ann Eliza thought + how odd it was that they should have been acquainted so long, and yet that + she should not know the lady's name. From this consideration her mind + wandered to the cut of the lady's new sleeves, and she was vexed with + herself for not having noted it more carefully. She felt Miss Mellins + might have liked to know about it. Ann Eliza's powers of observation had + never been as keen as Evelina's, when the latter was not too self-absorbed + to exert them. As Miss Mellins always said, Evelina could “take patterns + with her eyes”: she could have cut that new sleeve out of a folded + newspaper in a trice! Musing on these things, Ann Eliza wished the lady + would come back and give her another look at the sleeve. It was not + unlikely that she might pass that way, for she certainly lived in or about + the Square. Suddenly Ann Eliza remarked a small neat handkerchief on the + counter: it must have dropped from the lady's purse, and she would + probably come back to get it. Ann Eliza, pleased at the idea, sat on + behind the counter and watched the darkening street. She always lit the + gas as late as possible, keeping the box of matches at her elbow, so that + if any one came she could apply a quick flame to the gas-jet. At length + through the deepening dusk she distinguished a slim dark figure coming + down the steps to the shop. With a little warmth of pleasure about her + heart she reached up to light the gas. “I do believe I'll ask her name + this time,” she thought. She raised the flame to its full height, and saw + her sister standing in the door. + </p> + <p> + There she was at last, the poor pale shade of Evelina, her thin face + blanched of its faint pink, the stiff ripples gone from her hair, and a + mantle shabbier than Ann Eliza's drawn about her narrow shoulders. The + glare of the gas beat full on her as she stood and looked at Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Sister—oh, Evelina! I knowed you'd come!” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza had caught her close with a long moan of triumph. Vague words + poured from her as she laid her cheek against Evelina's—trivial + inarticulate endearments caught from Mrs. Hawkins's long discourses to her + baby. + </p> + <p> + For a while Evelina let herself be passively held; then she drew back from + her sister's clasp and looked about the shop. “I'm dead tired. Ain't there + any fire?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Of course there is!” Ann Eliza, holding her hand fast, drew her into the + back room. She did not want to ask any questions yet: she simply wanted to + feel the emptiness of the room brimmed full again by the one presence that + was warmth and light to her. + </p> + <p> + She knelt down before the grate, scraped some bits of coal and kindling + from the bottom of the coal-scuttle, and drew one of the rocking-chairs up + to the weak flame. “There—that'll blaze up in a minute,” she said. + She pressed Evelina down on the faded cushions of the rocking-chair, and, + kneeling beside her, began to rub her hands. + </p> + <p> + “You're stone-cold, ain't you? Just sit still and warm yourself while I + run and get the kettle. I've got something you always used to fancy for + supper.” She laid her hand on Evelina's shoulder. “Don't talk—oh, + don't talk yet!” she implored. She wanted to keep that one frail second of + happiness between herself and what she knew must come. + </p> + <p> + Evelina, without a word, bent over the fire, stretching her thin hands to + the blaze and watching Ann Eliza fill the kettle and set the supper table. + Her gaze had the dreamy fixity of a half-awakened child's. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, with a smile of triumph, brought a slice of custard pie from + the cupboard and put it by her sister's plate. + </p> + <p> + “You do like that, don't you? Miss Mellins sent it down to me this + morning. She had her aunt from Brooklyn to dinner. Ain't it funny it just + so happened?” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't hungry,” said Evelina, rising to approach the table. + </p> + <p> + She sat down in her usual place, looked about her with the same wondering + stare, and then, as of old, poured herself out the first cup of tea. + </p> + <p> + “Where's the what-not gone to?” she suddenly asked. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza set down the teapot and rose to get a spoon from the cupboard. + With her back to the room she said: “The what-not? Why, you see, dearie, + living here all alone by myself it only made one more thing to dust; so I + sold it.” + </p> + <p> + Evelina's eyes were still travelling about the familiar room. Though it + was against all the traditions of the Bunner family to sell any household + possession, she showed no surprise at her sister's answer. + </p> + <p> + “And the clock? The clock's gone too.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I gave that away—I gave it to Mrs. Hawkins. She's kep' awake so + nights with that last baby.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you'd never bought it,” said Evelina harshly. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza's heart grew faint with fear. Without answering, she crossed + over to her sister's seat and poured her out a second cup of tea. Then + another thought struck her, and she went back to the cupboard and took out + the cordial. In Evelina's absence considerable draughts had been drawn + from it by invalid neighbours; but a glassful of the precious liquid still + remained. + </p> + <p> + “Here, drink this right off—it'll warm you up quicker than + anything,” Ann Eliza said. + </p> + <p> + Evelina obeyed, and a slight spark of colour came into her cheeks. She + turned to the custard pie and began to eat with a silent voracity + distressing to watch. She did not even look to see what was left for Ann + Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't hungry,” she said at last as she laid down her fork. “I'm only so + dead tired—that's the trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you'd better get right into bed. Here's my old plaid dressing-gown—you + remember it, don't you?” Ann Eliza laughed, recalling Evelina's ironies on + the subject of the antiquated garment. With trembling fingers she began to + undo her sister's cloak. The dress beneath it told a tale of poverty that + Ann Eliza dared not pause to note. She drew it gently off, and as it + slipped from Evelina's shoulders it revealed a tiny black bag hanging on a + ribbon about her neck. Evelina lifted her hand as though to screen the bag + from Ann Eliza; and the elder sister, seeing the gesture, continued her + task with lowered eyes. She undressed Evelina as quickly as she could, and + wrapping her in the plaid dressing-gown put her to bed, and spread her own + shawl and her sister's cloak above the blanket. + </p> + <p> + “Where's the old red comfortable?” Evelina asked, as she sank down on the + pillow. + </p> + <p> + “The comfortable? Oh, it was so hot and heavy I never used it after you + went—so I sold that too. I never could sleep under much clothes.” + </p> + <p> + She became aware that her sister was looking at her more attentively. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you've been in trouble too,” Evelina said. + </p> + <p> + “Me? In trouble? What do you mean, Evelina?” + </p> + <p> + “You've had to pawn the things, I suppose,” Evelina continued in a weary + unmoved tone. “Well, I've been through worse than that. I've been to hell + and back.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Evelina—don't say it, sister!” Ann Eliza implored, shrinking + from the unholy word. She knelt down and began to rub her sister's feet + beneath the bedclothes. + </p> + <p> + “I've been to hell and back—if I <i>am</i> back,” Evelina repeated. She + lifted her head from the pillow and began to talk with a sudden feverish + volubility. “It began right away, less than a month after we were married. + I've been in hell all that time, Ann Eliza.” She fixed her eyes with + passionate intentness on Ann Eliza's face. “He took opium. I didn't find + it out till long afterward—at first, when he acted so strange, I + thought he drank. But it was worse, much worse than drinking.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sister, don't say it—don't say it yet! It's so sweet just to + have you here with me again.” + </p> + <p> + “I must say it,” Evelina insisted, her flushed face burning with a kind of + bitter cruelty. “You don't know what life's like—you don't know + anything about it—setting here safe all the while in this peaceful + place.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Evelina—why didn't you write and send for me if it was like + that?” + </p> + <p> + “That's why I couldn't write. Didn't you guess I was ashamed?” + </p> + <p> + “How could you be? Ashamed to write to Ann Eliza?” + </p> + <p> + Evelina raised herself on her thin elbow, while Ann Eliza, bending over, + drew a corner of the shawl about her shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Do lay down again. You'll catch your death.” + </p> + <p> + “My death? That don't frighten me! You don't know what I've been through.” + And sitting upright in the old mahogany bed, with flushed cheeks and + chattering teeth, and Ann Eliza's trembling arm clasping the shawl about + her neck, Evelina poured out her story. It was a tale of misery and + humiliation so remote from the elder sister's innocent experiences that + much of it was hardly intelligible to her. Evelina's dreadful familiarity + with it all, her fluency about things which Ann Eliza half-guessed and + quickly shuddered back from, seemed even more alien and terrible than the + actual tale she told. It was one thing—and heaven knew it was bad + enough!—to learn that one's sister's husband was a drug-fiend; it + was another, and much worse thing, to learn from that sister's pallid lips + what vileness lay behind the word. + </p> + <p> + Evelina, unconscious of any distress but her own, sat upright, shivering + in Ann Eliza's hold, while she piled up, detail by detail, her dreary + narrative. + </p> + <p> + “The minute we got out there, and he found the job wasn't as good as he + expected, he changed. At first I thought he was sick—I used to try + to keep him home and nurse him. Then I saw it was something different. He + used to go off for hours at a time, and when he came back his eyes kinder + had a fog over them. Sometimes he didn't har'ly know me, and when he did + he seemed to hate me. Once he hit me here.” She touched her breast. “Do + you remember, Ann Eliza, that time he didn't come to see us for a week—the + time after we all went to Central Park together—and you and I + thought he must be sick?” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that was the trouble—he'd been at it then. But nothing like + as bad. After we'd been out there about a month he disappeared for a whole + week. They took him back at the store, and gave him another chance; but + the second time they discharged him, and he drifted round for ever so long + before he could get another job. We spent all our money and had to move to + a cheaper place. Then he got something to do, but they hardly paid him + anything, and he didn't stay there long. When he found out about the baby—” + </p> + <p> + “The baby?” Ann Eliza faltered. + </p> + <p> + “It's dead—it only lived a day. When he found out about it, he got + mad, and said he hadn't any money to pay doctors' bills, and I'd better + write to you to help us. He had an idea you had money hidden away that I + didn't know about.” She turned to her sister with remorseful eyes. “It was + him that made me get that hundred dollars out of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, hush. I always meant it for you anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I wouldn't have taken it if he hadn't been at me the whole time. + He used to make me do just what he wanted. Well, when I said I wouldn't + write to you for more money he said I'd better try and earn some myself. + That was when he struck me.... Oh, you don't know what I'm talking about + yet!... I tried to get work at a milliner's, but I was so sick I couldn't + stay. I was sick all the time. I wisht I'd ha' died, Ann Eliza.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, Evelina.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do. It kept getting worse and worse. We pawned the furniture, and + they turned us out because we couldn't pay the rent; and so then we went + to board with Mrs. Hochmuller.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza pressed her closer to dissemble her own tremor. “Mrs. + Hochmuller?” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you know she was out there? She moved out a month after we did. + She wasn't bad to me, and I think she tried to keep him straight—but + Linda—” + </p> + <p> + “Linda—?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, when I kep' getting worse, and he was always off, for days at a + time, the doctor had me sent to a hospital.” + </p> + <p> + “A hospital? Sister—sister!” + </p> + <p> + “It was better than being with him; and the doctors were real kind to me. + After the baby was born I was very sick and had to stay there a good + while. And one day when I was laying there Mrs. Hochmuller came in as + white as a sheet, and told me him and Linda had gone off together and + taken all her money. That's the last I ever saw of him.” She broke off + with a laugh and began to cough again. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza tried to persuade her to lie down and sleep, but the rest of her + story had to be told before she could be soothed into consent. After the + news of Ramy's flight she had had brain fever, and had been sent to + another hospital where she stayed a long time—how long she couldn't + remember. Dates and days meant nothing to her in the shapeless ruin of her + life. When she left the hospital she found that Mrs. Hochmuller had gone + too. She was penniless, and had no one to turn to. A lady visitor at the + hospital was kind, and found her a place where she did housework; but she + was so weak they couldn't keep her. Then she got a job as waitress in a + down-town lunch-room, but one day she fainted while she was handing a + dish, and that evening when they paid her they told her she needn't come + again. + </p> + <p> + “After that I begged in the streets”—(Ann Eliza's grasp again grew + tight)—“and one afternoon last week, when the matinees was coming + out, I met a man with a pleasant face, something like Mr. Hawkins, and he + stopped and asked me what the trouble was. I told him if he'd give me five + dollars I'd have money enough to buy a ticket back to New York, and he + took a good look at me and said, well, if that was what I wanted he'd go + straight to the station with me and give me the five dollars there. So he + did—and he bought the ticket, and put me in the cars.” + </p> + <p> + Evelina sank back, her face a sallow wedge in the white cleft of the + pillow. Ann Eliza leaned over her, and for a long time they held each + other without speaking. + </p> + <p> + They were still clasped in this dumb embrace when there was a step in the + shop and Ann Eliza, starting up, saw Miss Mellins in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “My sakes, Miss Bunner! What in the land are you doing? Miss Evelina—Mrs. + Ramy—it ain't you?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Mellins's eyes, bursting from their sockets, sprang from Evelina's + pallid face to the disordered supper table and the heap of worn clothes on + the floor; then they turned back to Ann Eliza, who had placed herself on + the defensive between her sister and the dress-maker. + </p> + <p> + “My sister Evelina has come back—come back on a visit. She was taken + sick in the cars on the way home—I guess she caught cold—so I + made her go right to bed as soon as ever she got here.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza was surprised at the strength and steadiness of her voice. + Fortified by its sound she went on, her eyes on Miss Mellins's baffled + countenance: “Mr. Ramy has gone west on a trip—a trip connected with + his business; and Evelina is going to stay with me till he comes back.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII + </h2> + <p> + What measure of belief her explanation of Evelina's return obtained in the + small circle of her friends Ann Eliza did not pause to enquire. Though she + could not remember ever having told a lie before, she adhered with rigid + tenacity to the consequences of her first lapse from truth, and fortified + her original statement with additional details whenever a questioner + sought to take her unawares. + </p> + <p> + But other and more serious burdens lay on her startled conscience. For the + first time in her life she dimly faced the awful problem of the inutility + of self-sacrifice. Hitherto she had never thought of questioning the + inherited principles which had guided her life. Self-effacement for the + good of others had always seemed to her both natural and necessary; but + then she had taken it for granted that it implied the securing of that + good. Now she perceived that to refuse the gifts of life does not ensure + their transmission to those for whom they have been surrendered; and her + familiar heaven was unpeopled. She felt she could no longer trust in the + goodness of God, and there was only a black abyss above the roof of Bunner + Sisters. + </p> + <p> + But there was little time to brood upon such problems. The care of Evelina + filled Ann Eliza's days and nights. The hastily summoned doctor had + pronounced her to be suffering from pneumonia, and under his care the + first stress of the disease was relieved. But her recovery was only + partial, and long after the doctor's visits had ceased she continued to + lie in bed, too weak to move, and seemingly indifferent to everything + about her. + </p> + <p> + At length one evening, about six weeks after her return, she said to her + sister: “I don't feel's if I'd ever get up again.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza turned from the kettle she was placing on the stove. She was + startled by the echo the words woke in her own breast. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you talk like that, Evelina! I guess you're on'y tired out—and + disheartened.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I'm disheartened,” Evelina murmured. + </p> + <p> + A few months earlier Ann Eliza would have met the confession with a word + of pious admonition; now she accepted it in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe you'll brighten up when your cough gets better,” she suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—or my cough'll get better when I brighten up,” Evelina retorted + with a touch of her old tartness. + </p> + <p> + “Does your cough keep on hurting you jest as much?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see's there's much difference.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess I'll get the doctor to come round again,” Ann Eliza said, + trying for the matter-of-course tone in which one might speak of sending + for the plumber or the gas-fitter. + </p> + <p> + “It ain't any use sending for the doctor—and who's going to pay + him?” + </p> + <p> + “I am,” answered the elder sister. “Here's your tea, and a mite of toast. + Don't that tempt you?” + </p> + <p> + Already, in the watches of the night, Ann Eliza had been tormented by that + same question—who was to pay the doctor?—and a few days before + she had temporarily silenced it by borrowing twenty dollars of Miss + Mellins. The transaction had cost her one of the bitterest struggles of + her life. She had never borrowed a penny of any one before, and the + possibility of having to do so had always been classed in her mind among + those shameful extremities to which Providence does not let decent people + come. But nowadays she no longer believed in the personal supervision of + Providence; and had she been compelled to steal the money instead of + borrowing it, she would have felt that her conscience was the only + tribunal before which she had to answer. Nevertheless, the actual + humiliation of having to ask for the money was no less bitter; and she + could hardly hope that Miss Mellins would view the case with the same + detachment as herself. Miss Mellins was very kind; but she not unnaturally + felt that her kindness should be rewarded by according her the right to + ask questions; and bit by bit Ann Eliza saw Evelina's miserable secret + slipping into the dress-maker's possession. + </p> + <p> + When the doctor came she left him alone with Evelina, busying herself in + the shop that she might have an opportunity of seeing him alone on his way + out. To steady herself she began to sort a trayful of buttons, and when + the doctor appeared she was reciting under her breath: “Twenty-four horn, + two and a half cards fancy pearl...” She saw at once that his look was + grave. + </p> + <p> + He sat down on the chair beside the counter, and her mind travelled miles + before he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Bunner, the best thing you can do is to let me get a bed for your + sister at St. Luke's.” + </p> + <p> + “The hospital?” + </p> + <p> + “Come now, you're above that sort of prejudice, aren't you?” The doctor + spoke in the tone of one who coaxes a spoiled child. “I know how devoted + you are—but Mrs. Ramy can be much better cared for there than here. + You really haven't time to look after her and attend to your business as + well. There'll be no expense, you understand—” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza made no answer. “You think my sister's going to be sick a good + while, then?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes—possibly.” + </p> + <p> + “You think she's very sick?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes. She's very sick.” + </p> + <p> + His face had grown still graver; he sat there as though he had never known + what it was to hurry. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza continued to separate the pearl and horn buttons. Suddenly she + lifted her eyes and looked at him. “Is she going to die?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor laid a kindly hand on hers. “We never say that, Miss Bunner. + Human skill works wonders—and at the hospital Mrs. Ramy would have + every chance.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it? What's she dying of?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor hesitated, seeking to substitute a popular phrase for the + scientific terminology which rose to his lips. + </p> + <p> + “I want to know,” Ann Eliza persisted. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, of course; I understand. Well, your sister has had a hard time + lately, and there is a complication of causes, resulting in consumption—rapid + consumption. At the hospital—” + </p> + <p> + “I'll keep her here,” said Ann Eliza quietly. + </p> + <p> + After the doctor had gone she went on for some time sorting the buttons; + then she slipped the tray into its place on a shelf behind the counter and + went into the back room. She found Evelina propped upright against the + pillows, a flush of agitation on her cheeks. Ann Eliza pulled up the shawl + which had slipped from her sister's shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “How long you've been! What's he been saying?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he went long ago—he on'y stopped to give me a prescription. I + was sorting out that tray of buttons. Miss Mellins's girl got them all + mixed up.” + </p> + <p> + She felt Evelina's eyes upon her. + </p> + <p> + “He must have said something: what was it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, he said you'd have to be careful—and stay in bed—and + take this new medicine he's given you.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he say I was going to get well?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Evelina!” + </p> + <p> + “What's the use, Ann Eliza? You can't deceive me. I've just been up to + look at myself in the glass; and I saw plenty of 'em in the hospital that + looked like me. They didn't get well, and I ain't going to.” Her head + dropped back. “It don't much matter—I'm about tired. On'y there's + one thing—Ann Eliza—” + </p> + <p> + The elder sister drew near to the bed. + </p> + <p> + “There's one thing I ain't told you. I didn't want to tell you yet because + I was afraid you might be sorry—but if he says I'm going to die I've + got to say it.” She stopped to cough, and to Ann Eliza it now seemed as + though every cough struck a minute from the hours remaining to her. + </p> + <p> + “Don't talk now—you're tired.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll be tireder to-morrow, I guess. And I want you should know. Sit down + close to me—there.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza sat down in silence, stroking her shrunken hand. + </p> + <p> + “I'm a Roman Catholic, Ann Eliza.” + </p> + <p> + “Evelina—oh, Evelina Bunner! A Roman Catholic—<i>you</i>? Oh, + Evelina, did <i>he</i> make you?” + </p> + <p> + Evelina shook her head. “I guess he didn't have no religion; he never + spoke of it. But you see Mrs. Hochmuller was a Catholic, and so when I was + sick she got the doctor to send me to a Roman Catholic hospital, and the + sisters was so good to me there—and the priest used to come and talk + to me; and the things he said kep' me from going crazy. He seemed to make + everything easier.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sister, how could you?” Ann Eliza wailed. She knew little of the + Catholic religion except that “Papists” believed in it—in itself a + sufficient indictment. Her spiritual rebellion had not freed her from the + formal part of her religious belief, and apostasy had always seemed to her + one of the sins from which the pure in mind avert their thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “And then when the baby was born,” Evelina continued, “he christened it + right away, so it could go to heaven; and after that, you see, I had to be + a Catholic.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't I have to be where the baby is? I couldn't ever ha' gone there if I + hadn't been made a Catholic. Don't you understand that?” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza sat speechless, drawing her hand away. Once more she found + herself shut out of Evelina's heart, an exile from her closest affections. + </p> + <p> + “I've got to go where the baby is,” Evelina feverishly insisted. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza could think of nothing to say; she could only feel that Evelina + was dying, and dying as a stranger in her arms. Ramy and the day-old baby + had parted her forever from her sister. + </p> + <p> + Evelina began again. “If I get worse I want you to send for a priest. Miss + Mellins'll know where to send—she's got an aunt that's a Catholic. + Promise me faithful you will.” + </p> + <p> + “I promise,” said Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + After that they spoke no more of the matter; but Ann Eliza now understood + that the little black bag about her sister's neck, which she had + innocently taken for a memento of Ramy, was some kind of sacrilegious + amulet, and her fingers shrank from its contact when she bathed and + dressed Evelina. It seemed to her the diabolical instrument of their + estrangement. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIII + </h2> + <p> + Spring had really come at last. There were leaves on the ailanthus-tree + that Evelina could see from her bed, gentle clouds floated over it in the + blue, and now and then the cry of a flower-seller sounded from the street. + </p> + <p> + One day there was a shy knock on the back-room door, and Johnny Hawkins + came in with two yellow jonquils in his fist. He was getting bigger and + squarer, and his round freckled face was growing into a smaller copy of + his father's. He walked up to Evelina and held out the flowers. + </p> + <p> + “They blew off the cart and the fellow said I could keep 'em. But you can + have 'em,” he announced. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza rose from her seat at the sewing-machine and tried to take the + flowers from him. + </p> + <p> + “They ain't for you; they're for her,” he sturdily objected; and Evelina + held out her hand for the jonquils. + </p> + <p> + After Johnny had gone she lay and looked at them without speaking. Ann + Eliza, who had gone back to the machine, bent her head over the seam she + was stitching; the click, click, click of the machine sounded in her ear + like the tick of Ramy's clock, and it seemed to her that life had gone + backward, and that Evelina, radiant and foolish, had just come into the + room with the yellow flowers in her hand. + </p> + <p> + When at last she ventured to look up, she saw that her sister's head had + drooped against the pillow, and that she was sleeping quietly. Her relaxed + hand still held the jonquils, but it was evident that they had awakened no + memories; she had dozed off almost as soon as Johnny had given them to + her. The discovery gave Ann Eliza a startled sense of the ruins that must + be piled upon her past. “I don't believe I could have forgotten that day, + though,” she said to herself. But she was glad that Evelina had forgotten. + </p> + <p> + Evelina's disease moved on along the usual course, now lifting her on a + brief wave of elation, now sinking her to new depths of weakness. There + was little to be done, and the doctor came only at lengthening intervals. + On his way out he always repeated his first friendly suggestion about + sending Evelina to the hospital; and Ann Eliza always answered: “I guess + we can manage.” + </p> + <p> + The hours passed for her with the fierce rapidity that great joy or + anguish lends them. She went through the days with a sternly smiling + precision, but she hardly knew what was happening, and when night-fall + released her from the shop, and she could carry her work to Evelina's + bedside, the same sense of unreality accompanied her, and she still seemed + to be accomplishing a task whose object had escaped her memory. + </p> + <p> + Once, when Evelina felt better, she expressed a desire to make some + artificial flowers, and Ann Eliza, deluded by this awakening interest, got + out the faded bundles of stems and petals and the little tools and spools + of wire. But after a few minutes the work dropped from Evelina's hands and + she said: “I'll wait until to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + She never again spoke of the flower-making, but one day, after watching + Ann Eliza's laboured attempt to trim a spring hat for Mrs. Hawkins, she + demanded impatiently that the hat should be brought to her, and in a trice + had galvanized the lifeless bow and given the brim the twist it needed. + </p> + <p> + These were rare gleams; and more frequent were the days of speechless + lassitude, when she lay for hours silently staring at the window, shaken + only by the hard incessant cough that sounded to Ann Eliza like the + hammering of nails into a coffin. + </p> + <p> + At length one morning Ann Eliza, starting up from the mattress at the foot + of the bed, hastily called Miss Mellins down, and ran through the smoky + dawn for the doctor. He came back with her and did what he could to give + Evelina momentary relief; then he went away, promising to look in again + before night. Miss Mellins, her head still covered with curl-papers, + disappeared in his wake, and when the sisters were alone Evelina beckoned + to Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “You promised,” she whispered, grasping her sister's arm; and Ann Eliza + understood. She had not yet dared to tell Miss Mellins of Evelina's change + of faith; it had seemed even more difficult than borrowing the money; but + now it had to be done. She ran upstairs after the dress-maker and detained + her on the landing. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Mellins, can you tell me where to send for a priest—a Roman + Catholic priest?” + </p> + <p> + “A priest, Miss Bunner?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. My sister became a Roman Catholic while she was away. They were kind + to her in her sickness—and now she wants a priest.” Ann Eliza faced + Miss Mellins with unflinching eyes. + </p> + <p> + “My aunt Dugan'll know. I'll run right round to her the minute I get my + papers off,” the dress-maker promised; and Ann Eliza thanked her. + </p> + <p> + An hour or two later the priest appeared. Ann Eliza, who was watching, saw + him coming down the steps to the shop-door and went to meet him. His + expression was kind, but she shrank from his peculiar dress, and from his + pale face with its bluish chin and enigmatic smile. Ann Eliza remained in + the shop. Miss Mellins's girl had mixed the buttons again and she set + herself to sort them. The priest stayed a long time with Evelina. When he + again carried his enigmatic smile past the counter, and Ann Eliza rejoined + her sister, Evelina was smiling with something of the same mystery; but + she did not tell her secret. + </p> + <p> + After that it seemed to Ann Eliza that the shop and the back room no + longer belonged to her. It was as though she were there on sufferance, + indulgently tolerated by the unseen power which hovered over Evelina even + in the absence of its minister. The priest came almost daily; and at last + a day arrived when he was called to administer some rite of which Ann + Eliza but dimly grasped the sacramental meaning. All she knew was that it + meant that Evelina was going, and going, under this alien guidance, even + farther from her than to the dark places of death. + </p> + <p> + When the priest came, with something covered in his hands, she crept into + the shop, closing the door of the back room to leave him alone with + Evelina. + </p> + <p> + It was a warm afternoon in May, and the crooked ailanthus-tree rooted in a + fissure of the opposite pavement was a fountain of tender green. Women in + light dresses passed with the languid step of spring; and presently there + came a man with a hand-cart full of pansy and geranium plants who stopped + outside the window, signalling to Ann Eliza to buy. + </p> + <p> + An hour went by before the door of the back room opened and the priest + reappeared with that mysterious covered something in his hands. Ann Eliza + had risen, drawing back as he passed. He had doubtless divined her + antipathy, for he had hitherto only bowed in going in and out; but to day + he paused and looked at her compassionately. + </p> + <p> + “I have left your sister in a very beautiful state of mind,” he said in a + low voice like a woman's. “She is full of spiritual consolation.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza was silent, and he bowed and went out. She hastened back to + Evelina's bed, and knelt down beside it. Evelina's eyes were very large + and bright; she turned them on Ann Eliza with a look of inner + illumination. + </p> + <p> + “I shall see the baby,” she said; then her eyelids fell and she dozed. + </p> + <p> + The doctor came again at nightfall, administering some last palliatives; + and after he had gone Ann Eliza, refusing to have her vigil shared by Miss + Mellins or Mrs. Hawkins, sat down to keep watch alone. + </p> + <p> + It was a very quiet night. Evelina never spoke or opened her eyes, but in + the still hour before dawn Ann Eliza saw that the restless hand outside + the bed-clothes had stopped its twitching. She stooped over and felt no + breath on her sister's lips. + </p> + <p> + The funeral took place three days later. Evelina was buried in Calvary + Cemetery, the priest assuming the whole care of the necessary + arrangements, while Ann Eliza, a passive spectator, beheld with stony + indifference this last negation of her past. + </p> + <p> + A week afterward she stood in her bonnet and mantle in the doorway of the + little shop. Its whole aspect had changed. Counter and shelves were bare, + the window was stripped of its familiar miscellany of artificial flowers, + note-paper, wire hat-frames, and limp garments from the dyer's; and + against the glass pane of the doorway hung a sign: “This store to let.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza turned her eyes from the sign as she went out and locked the + door behind her. Evelina's funeral had been very expensive, and Ann Eliza, + having sold her stock-in-trade and the few articles of furniture that + remained to her, was leaving the shop for the last time. She had not been + able to buy any mourning, but Miss Mellins had sewed some crape on her old + black mantle and bonnet, and having no gloves she slipped her bare hands + under the folds of the mantle. + </p> + <p> + It was a beautiful morning, and the air was full of a warm sunshine that + had coaxed open nearly every window in the street, and summoned to the + window-sills the sickly plants nurtured indoors in winter. Ann Eliza's way + lay westward, toward Broadway; but at the corner she paused and looked + back down the familiar length of the street. Her eyes rested a moment on + the blotched “Bunner Sisters” above the empty window of the shop; then + they travelled on to the overflowing foliage of the Square, above which + was the church tower with the dial that had marked the hours for the + sisters before Ann Eliza had bought the nickel clock. She looked at it all + as though it had been the scene of some unknown life, of which the vague + report had reached her: she felt for herself the only remote pity that + busy people accord to the misfortunes which come to them by hearsay. + </p> + <p> + She walked to Broadway and down to the office of the house-agent to whom + she had entrusted the sub-letting of the shop. She left the key with one + of his clerks, who took it from her as if it had been any one of a + thousand others, and remarked that the weather looked as if spring was + really coming; then she turned and began to move up the great + thoroughfare, which was just beginning to wake to its multitudinous + activities. + </p> + <p> + She walked less rapidly now, studying each shop window as she passed, but + not with the desultory eye of enjoyment: the watchful fixity of her gaze + overlooked everything but the object of its quest. At length she stopped + before a small window wedged between two mammoth buildings, and + displaying, behind its shining plate-glass festooned with muslin, a varied + assortment of sofa-cushions, tea-cloths, pen-wipers, painted calendars and + other specimens of feminine industry. In a corner of the window she had + read, on a slip of paper pasted against the pane: “Wanted, a Saleslady,” + and after studying the display of fancy articles beneath it, she gave her + mantle a twitch, straightened her shoulders and went in. + </p> + <p> + Behind a counter crowded with pin-cushions, watch-holders and other + needlework trifles, a plump young woman with smooth hair sat sewing bows + of ribbon on a scrap basket. The little shop was about the size of the one + on which Ann Eliza had just closed the door; and it looked as fresh and + gay and thriving as she and Evelina had once dreamed of making Bunner + Sisters. The friendly air of the place made her pluck up courage to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Saleslady? Yes, we do want one. Have you any one to recommend?” the young + woman asked, not unkindly. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza hesitated, disconcerted by the unexpected question; and the + other, cocking her head on one side to study the effect of the bow she had + just sewed on the basket, continued: “We can't afford more than thirty + dollars a month, but the work is light. She would be expected to do a + little fancy sewing between times. We want a bright girl: stylish, and + pleasant manners. You know what I mean. Not over thirty, anyhow; and + nice-looking. Will you write down the name?” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza looked at her confusedly. She opened her lips to explain, and + then, without speaking, turned toward the crisply-curtained door. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't you going to leave the <i>ad</i>-dress?” the young woman called out after + her. Ann Eliza went out into the thronged street. The great city, under + the fair spring sky, seemed to throb with the stir of innumerable + beginnings. She walked on, looking for another shop window with a sign in + it. + </p> + <p> + THE END. <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Bunner Sisters, by Edith Wharton + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BUNNER SISTERS *** + +***** This file should be named 311-h.htm or 311-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/311/ + +Produced by Judith Boss and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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: Bunner Sisters + +Author: Edith Wharton + +Release Date: July 1, 2008 [EBook #311] +[Last updated: August 27, 2017] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BUNNER SISTERS *** + + + + +Produced by Judith Boss + + + + + +BUNNER SISTERS + +By Edith Wharton + +Scribner's Magazine 60 (Oct. 1916): 439-58; 60 (Nov. 1916): 575-96. + + + + +PART I + + + + +I + +In the days when New York's traffic moved at the pace of the drooping +horse-car, when society applauded Christine Nilsson at the Academy of +Music and basked in the sunsets of the Hudson River School on the walls +of the National Academy of Design, an inconspicuous shop with a +single show-window was intimately and favourably known to the feminine +population of the quarter bordering on Stuyvesant Square. + +It was a very small shop, in a shabby basement, in a side-street +already doomed to decline; and from the miscellaneous display behind the +window-pane, and the brevity of the sign surmounting it (merely "Bunner +Sisters" in blotchy gold on a black ground) it would have been difficult +for the uninitiated to guess the precise nature of the business carried +on within. But that was of little consequence, since its fame was so +purely local that the customers on whom its existence depended were +almost congenitally aware of the exact range of "goods" to be found at +Bunner Sisters'. + +The house of which Bunner Sisters had annexed the basement was a private +dwelling with a brick front, green shutters on weak hinges, and a +dress-maker's sign in the window above the shop. On each side of its +modest three stories stood higher buildings, with fronts of brown stone, +cracked and blistered, cast-iron balconies and cat-haunted grass-patches +behind twisted railings. These houses too had once been private, but now +a cheap lunchroom filled the basement of one, while the other announced +itself, above the knotty wistaria that clasped its central balcony, as +the Mendoza Family Hotel. It was obvious from the chronic cluster +of refuse-barrels at its area-gate and the blurred surface of its +curtainless windows, that the families frequenting the Mendoza Hotel +were not exacting in their tastes; though they doubtless indulged in +as much fastidiousness as they could afford to pay for, and rather more +than their landlord thought they had a right to express. + +These three houses fairly exemplified the general character of the +street, which, as it stretched eastward, rapidly fell from shabbiness to +squalor, with an increasing frequency of projecting sign-boards, and of +swinging doors that softly shut or opened at the touch of red-nosed men +and pale little girls with broken jugs. The middle of the street was +full of irregular depressions, well adapted to retain the long swirls of +dust and straw and twisted paper that the wind drove up and down its sad +untended length; and toward the end of the day, when traffic had been +active, the fissured pavement formed a mosaic of coloured hand-bills, +lids of tomato-cans, old shoes, cigar-stumps and banana skins, cemented +together by a layer of mud, or veiled in a powdering of dust, as the +state of the weather determined. + +The sole refuge offered from the contemplation of this depressing waste +was the sight of the Bunner Sisters' window. Its panes were always +well-washed, and though their display of artificial flowers, bands of +scalloped flannel, wire hat-frames, and jars of home-made preserves, had +the undefinable greyish tinge of objects long preserved in the show-case +of a museum, the window revealed a background of orderly counters and +white-washed walls in pleasant contrast to the adjoining dinginess. + +The Bunner sisters were proud of the neatness of their shop and content +with its humble prosperity. It was not what they had once imagined it +would be, but though it presented but a shrunken image of their earlier +ambitions it enabled them to pay their rent and keep themselves alive +and out of debt; and it was long since their hopes had soared higher. + +Now and then, however, among their greyer hours there came one not +bright enough to be called sunny, but rather of the silvery twilight hue +which sometimes ends a day of storm. It was such an hour that Ann Eliza, +the elder of the firm, was soberly enjoying as she sat one January +evening in the back room which served as bedroom, kitchen and parlour +to herself and her sister Evelina. In the shop the blinds had been drawn +down, the counters cleared and the wares in the window lightly covered +with an old sheet; but the shop-door remained unlocked till Evelina, who +had taken a parcel to the dyer's, should come back. + +In the back room a kettle bubbled on the stove, and Ann Eliza had laid a +cloth over one end of the centre table, and placed near the green-shaded +sewing lamp two tea-cups, two plates, a sugar-bowl and a piece of pie. +The rest of the room remained in a greenish shadow which discreetly +veiled the outline of an old-fashioned mahogany bedstead surmounted by a +chromo of a young lady in a night-gown who clung with eloquently-rolling +eyes to a crag described in illuminated letters as the Rock of Ages; +and against the unshaded windows two rocking-chairs and a sewing-machine +were silhouetted on the dusk. + +Ann Eliza, her small and habitually anxious face smoothed to unusual +serenity, and the streaks of pale hair on her veined temples shining +glossily beneath the lamp, had seated herself at the table, and was +tying up, with her usual fumbling deliberation, a knobby object wrapped +in paper. Now and then, as she struggled with the string, which was too +short, she fancied she heard the click of the shop-door, and paused +to listen for her sister; then, as no one came, she straightened her +spectacles and entered into renewed conflict with the parcel. In honour +of some event of obvious importance, she had put on her double-dyed and +triple-turned black silk. Age, while bestowing on this garment a patine +worthy of a Renaissance bronze, had deprived it of whatever curves the +wearer's pre-Raphaelite figure had once been able to impress on it; +but this stiffness of outline gave it an air of sacerdotal state which +seemed to emphasize the importance of the occasion. + +Seen thus, in her sacramental black silk, a wisp of lace turned over +the collar and fastened by a mosaic brooch, and her face smoothed into +harmony with her apparel, Ann Eliza looked ten years younger than behind +the counter, in the heat and burden of the day. It would have been as +difficult to guess her approximate age as that of the black silk, for +she had the same worn and glossy aspect as her dress; but a faint tinge +of pink still lingered on her cheek-bones, like the reflection of sunset +which sometimes colours the west long after the day is over. + +When she had tied the parcel to her satisfaction, and laid it with +furtive accuracy just opposite her sister's plate, she sat down, with an +air of obviously-assumed indifference, in one of the rocking-chairs near +the window; and a moment later the shop-door opened and Evelina entered. + +The younger Bunner sister, who was a little taller than her elder, had +a more pronounced nose, but a weaker slope of mouth and chin. She still +permitted herself the frivolity of waving her pale hair, and its +tight little ridges, stiff as the tresses of an Assyrian statue, +were flattened under a dotted veil which ended at the tip of her +cold-reddened nose. In her scant jacket and skirt of black cashmere she +looked singularly nipped and faded; but it seemed possible that under +happier conditions she might still warm into relative youth. + +"Why, Ann Eliza," she exclaimed, in a thin voice pitched to chronic +fretfulness, "what in the world you got your best silk on for?" + +Ann Eliza had risen with a blush that made her steel-browed spectacles +incongruous. + +"Why, Evelina, why shouldn't I, I sh'ld like to know? Ain't it your +birthday, dear?" She put out her arms with the awkwardness of habitually +repressed emotion. + +Evelina, without seeming to notice the gesture, threw back the jacket +from her narrow shoulders. + +"Oh, pshaw," she said, less peevishly. "I guess we'd better give up +birthdays. Much as we can do to keep Christmas nowadays." + +"You hadn't oughter say that, Evelina. We ain't so badly off as all +that. I guess you're cold and tired. Set down while I take the kettle +off: it's right on the boil." + +She pushed Evelina toward the table, keeping a sideward eye on her +sister's listless movements, while her own hands were busy with the +kettle. A moment later came the exclamation for which she waited. + +"Why, Ann Eliza!" Evelina stood transfixed by the sight of the parcel +beside her plate. + +Ann Eliza, tremulously engaged in filling the teapot, lifted a look of +hypocritical surprise. + +"Sakes, Evelina! What's the matter?" + +The younger sister had rapidly untied the string, and drawn from +its wrappings a round nickel clock of the kind to be bought for a +dollar-seventy-five. + +"Oh, Ann Eliza, how could you?" She set the clock down, and the sisters +exchanged agitated glances across the table. + +"Well," the elder retorted, "AIN'T it your birthday?" + +"Yes, but--" + +"Well, and ain't you had to run round the corner to the Square every +morning, rain or shine, to see what time it was, ever since we had to +sell mother's watch last July? Ain't you, Evelina?" + +"Yes, but--" + +"There ain't any buts. We've always wanted a clock and now we've got +one: that's all there is about it. Ain't she a beauty, Evelina?" Ann +Eliza, putting back the kettle on the stove, leaned over her sister's +shoulder to pass an approving hand over the circular rim of the clock. +"Hear how loud she ticks. I was afraid you'd hear her soon as you come +in." + +"No. I wasn't thinking," murmured Evelina. + +"Well, ain't you glad now?" Ann Eliza gently reproached her. The rebuke +had no acerbity, for she knew that Evelina's seeming indifference was +alive with unexpressed scruples. + +"I'm real glad, sister; but you hadn't oughter. We could have got on +well enough without." + +"Evelina Bunner, just you sit down to your tea. I guess I know what +I'd oughter and what I'd hadn't oughter just as well as you do--I'm old +enough!" + +"You're real good, Ann Eliza; but I know you've given up something you +needed to get me this clock." + +"What do I need, I'd like to know? Ain't I got a best black silk?" the +elder sister said with a laugh full of nervous pleasure. + +She poured out Evelina's tea, adding some condensed milk from the jug, +and cutting for her the largest slice of pie; then she drew up her own +chair to the table. + +The two women ate in silence for a few moments before Evelina began to +speak again. "The clock is perfectly lovely and I don't say it ain't a +comfort to have it; but I hate to think what it must have cost you." + +"No, it didn't, neither," Ann Eliza retorted. "I got it dirt cheap, if +you want to know. And I paid for it out of a little extra work I did the +other night on the machine for Mrs. Hawkins." + +"The baby-waists?" + +"Yes." + +"There, I knew it! You swore to me you'd buy a new pair of shoes with +that money." + +"Well, and s'posin' I didn't want 'em--what then? I've patched up the +old ones as good as new--and I do declare, Evelina Bunner, if you ask me +another question you'll go and spoil all my pleasure." + +"Very well, I won't," said the younger sister. + +They continued to eat without farther words. Evelina yielded to her +sister's entreaty that she should finish the pie, and poured out a +second cup of tea, into which she put the last lump of sugar; and +between them, on the table, the clock kept up its sociable tick. + +"Where'd you get it, Ann Eliza?" asked Evelina, fascinated. + +"Where'd you s'pose? Why, right round here, over acrost the Square, in +the queerest little store you ever laid eyes on. I saw it in the window +as I was passing, and I stepped right in and asked how much it was, and +the store-keeper he was real pleasant about it. He was just the nicest +man. I guess he's a German. I told him I couldn't give much, and he +said, well, he knew what hard times was too. His name's Ramy--Herman +Ramy: I saw it written up over the store. And he told me he used to work +at Tiff'ny's, oh, for years, in the clock-department, and three years +ago he took sick with some kinder fever, and lost his place, and when +he got well they'd engaged somebody else and didn't want him, and so he +started this little store by himself. I guess he's real smart, and he +spoke quite like an educated man--but he looks sick." + +Evelina was listening with absorbed attention. In the narrow lives of +the two sisters such an episode was not to be under-rated. + +"What you say his name was?" she asked as Ann Eliza paused. + +"Herman Ramy." + +"How old is he?" + +"Well, I couldn't exactly tell you, he looked so sick--but I don't +b'lieve he's much over forty." + +By this time the plates had been cleared and the teapot emptied, and +the two sisters rose from the table. Ann Eliza, tying an apron over +her black silk, carefully removed all traces of the meal; then, after +washing the cups and plates, and putting them away in a cupboard, she +drew her rocking-chair to the lamp and sat down to a heap of mending. +Evelina, meanwhile, had been roaming about the room in search of +an abiding-place for the clock. A rosewood what-not with ornamental +fret-work hung on the wall beside the devout young lady in dishabille, +and after much weighing of alternatives the sisters decided to dethrone +a broken china vase filled with dried grasses which had long stood +on the top shelf, and to put the clock in its place; the vase, after +farther consideration, being relegated to a small table covered with +blue and white beadwork, which held a Bible and prayer-book, and an +illustrated copy of Longfellow's poems given as a school-prize to their +father. + +This change having been made, and the effect studied from every angle +of the room, Evelina languidly put her pinking-machine on the table, +and sat down to the monotonous work of pinking a heap of black silk +flounces. The strips of stuff slid slowly to the floor at her side, and +the clock, from its commanding altitude, kept time with the dispiriting +click of the instrument under her fingers. + + + + +II + + +The purchase of Evelina's clock had been a more important event in the +life of Ann Eliza Bunner than her younger sister could divine. In the +first place, there had been the demoralizing satisfaction of finding +herself in possession of a sum of money which she need not put into the +common fund, but could spend as she chose, without consulting Evelina, +and then the excitement of her stealthy trips abroad, undertaken on the +rare occasions when she could trump up a pretext for leaving the shop; +since, as a rule, it was Evelina who took the bundles to the dyer's, +and delivered the purchases of those among their customers who were too +genteel to be seen carrying home a bonnet or a bundle of pinking--so +that, had it not been for the excuse of having to see Mrs. Hawkins's +teething baby, Ann Eliza would hardly have known what motive to allege +for deserting her usual seat behind the counter. + +The infrequency of her walks made them the chief events of her life. +The mere act of going out from the monastic quiet of the shop into the +tumult of the streets filled her with a subdued excitement which grew +too intense for pleasure as she was swallowed by the engulfing roar +of Broadway or Third Avenue, and began to do timid battle with their +incessant cross-currents of humanity. After a glance or two into the +great show-windows she usually allowed herself to be swept back into the +shelter of a side-street, and finally regained her own roof in a state +of breathless bewilderment and fatigue; but gradually, as her nerves +were soothed by the familiar quiet of the little shop, and the click +of Evelina's pinking-machine, certain sights and sounds would detach +themselves from the torrent along which she had been swept, and she +would devote the rest of the day to a mental reconstruction of the +different episodes of her walk, till finally it took shape in her +thought as a consecutive and highly-coloured experience, from which, for +weeks afterwards, she would detach some fragmentary recollection in the +course of her long dialogues with her sister. + +But when, to the unwonted excitement of going out, was added the +intenser interest of looking for a present for Evelina, Ann Eliza's +agitation, sharpened by concealment, actually preyed upon her rest; +and it was not till the present had been given, and she had unbosomed +herself of the experiences connected with its purchase, that she could +look back with anything like composure to that stirring moment of +her life. From that day forward, however, she began to take a certain +tranquil pleasure in thinking of Mr. Ramy's small shop, not unlike her +own in its countrified obscurity, though the layer of dust which +covered its counter and shelves made the comparison only superficially +acceptable. Still, she did not judge the state of the shop severely, for +Mr. Ramy had told her that he was alone in the world, and lone men, she +was aware, did not know how to deal with dust. It gave her a good deal +of occupation to wonder why he had never married, or if, on the other +hand, he were a widower, and had lost all his dear little children; +and she scarcely knew which alternative seemed to make him the more +interesting. In either case, his life was assuredly a sad one; and she +passed many hours in speculating on the manner in which he probably +spent his evenings. She knew he lived at the back of his shop, for she +had caught, on entering, a glimpse of a dingy room with a tumbled bed; +and the pervading smell of cold fry suggested that he probably did his +own cooking. She wondered if he did not often make his tea with water +that had not boiled, and asked herself, almost jealously, who looked +after the shop while he went to market. Then it occurred to her as +likely that he bought his provisions at the same market as Evelina; +and she was fascinated by the thought that he and her sister might +constantly be meeting in total unconsciousness of the link between them. +Whenever she reached this stage in her reflexions she lifted a furtive +glance to the clock, whose loud staccato tick was becoming a part of her +inmost being. + +The seed sown by these long hours of meditation germinated at last in +the secret wish to go to market some morning in Evelina's stead. As +this purpose rose to the surface of Ann Eliza's thoughts she shrank back +shyly from its contemplation. A plan so steeped in duplicity had never +before taken shape in her crystalline soul. How was it possible for her +to consider such a step? And, besides, (she did not possess sufficient +logic to mark the downward trend of this "besides"), what excuse could +she make that would not excite her sister's curiosity? From this second +query it was an easy descent to the third: how soon could she manage to +go? + +It was Evelina herself, who furnished the necessary pretext by awaking +with a sore throat on the day when she usually went to market. It was +a Saturday, and as they always had their bit of steak on Sunday the +expedition could not be postponed, and it seemed natural that Ann Eliza, +as she tied an old stocking around Evelina's throat, should announce her +intention of stepping round to the butcher's. + +"Oh, Ann Eliza, they'll cheat you so," her sister wailed. + +Ann Eliza brushed aside the imputation with a smile, and a few minutes +later, having set the room to rights, and cast a last glance at the +shop, she was tying on her bonnet with fumbling haste. + +The morning was damp and cold, with a sky full of sulky clouds that +would not make room for the sun, but as yet dropped only an occasional +snow-flake. In the early light the street looked its meanest and most +neglected; but to Ann Eliza, never greatly troubled by any untidiness +for which she was not responsible, it seemed to wear a singularly +friendly aspect. + +A few minutes' walk brought her to the market where Evelina made her +purchases, and where, if he had any sense of topographical fitness, Mr. +Ramy must also deal. + +Ann Eliza, making her way through the outskirts of potato-barrels and +flabby fish, found no one in the shop but the gory-aproned butcher who +stood in the background cutting chops. + +As she approached him across the tesselation of fish-scales, blood and +saw-dust, he laid aside his cleaver and not unsympathetically asked: +"Sister sick?" + +"Oh, not very--jest a cold," she answered, as guiltily as if Evelina's +illness had been feigned. "We want a steak as usual, please--and my +sister said you was to be sure to give me jest as good a cut as if it +was her," she added with child-like candour. + +"Oh, that's all right." The butcher picked up his weapon with a grin. +"Your sister knows a cut as well as any of us," he remarked. + +In another moment, Ann Eliza reflected, the steak would be cut and +wrapped up, and no choice left her but to turn her disappointed steps +toward home. She was too shy to try to delay the butcher by such +conversational arts as she possessed, but the approach of a deaf old +lady in an antiquated bonnet and mantle gave her her opportunity. + +"Wait on her first, please," Ann Eliza whispered. "I ain't in any +hurry." + +The butcher advanced to his new customer, and Ann Eliza, palpitating in +the back of the shop, saw that the old lady's hesitations between liver +and pork chops were likely to be indefinitely prolonged. They were still +unresolved when she was interrupted by the entrance of a blowsy +Irish girl with a basket on her arm. The newcomer caused a momentary +diversion, and when she had departed the old lady, who was evidently as +intolerant of interruption as a professional story-teller, insisted on +returning to the beginning of her complicated order, and weighing +anew, with an anxious appeal to the butcher's arbitration, the relative +advantages of pork and liver. But even her hesitations, and the +intrusion on them of two or three other customers, were of no avail, +for Mr. Ramy was not among those who entered the shop; and at last Ann +Eliza, ashamed of staying longer, reluctantly claimed her steak, and +walked home through the thickening snow. + +Even to her simple judgment the vanity of her hopes was plain, and in +the clear light that disappointment turns upon our actions she wondered +how she could have been foolish enough to suppose that, even if Mr. Ramy +DID go to that particular market, he would hit on the same day and hour +as herself. + + +There followed a colourless week unmarked by farther incident. The old +stocking cured Evelina's throat, and Mrs. Hawkins dropped in once or +twice to talk of her baby's teeth; some new orders for pinking were +received, and Evelina sold a bonnet to the lady with puffed sleeves. The +lady with puffed sleeves--a resident of "the Square," whose name they +had never learned, because she always carried her own parcels home--was +the most distinguished and interesting figure on their horizon. She was +youngish, she was elegant (as the title they had given her implied), and +she had a sweet sad smile about which they had woven many histories; but +even the news of her return to town--it was her first apparition +that year--failed to arouse Ann Eliza's interest. All the small daily +happenings which had once sufficed to fill the hours now appeared to her +in their deadly insignificance; and for the first time in her long years +of drudgery she rebelled at the dullness of her life. With Evelina such +fits of discontent were habitual and openly proclaimed, and Ann Eliza +still excused them as one of the prerogatives of youth. Besides, Evelina +had not been intended by Providence to pine in such a narrow life: in +the original plan of things, she had been meant to marry and have a +baby, to wear silk on Sundays, and take a leading part in a Church +circle. Hitherto opportunity had played her false; and for all her +superior aspirations and carefully crimped hair she had remained as +obscure and unsought as Ann Eliza. But the elder sister, who had long +since accepted her own fate, had never accepted Evelina's. Once a +pleasant young man who taught in Sunday-school had paid the younger +Miss Bunner a few shy visits. That was years since, and he had speedily +vanished from their view. Whether he had carried with him any of +Evelina's illusions, Ann Eliza had never discovered; but his attentions +had clad her sister in a halo of exquisite possibilities. + +Ann Eliza, in those days, had never dreamed of allowing herself the +luxury of self-pity: it seemed as much a personal right of Evelina's as +her elaborately crinkled hair. But now she began to transfer to herself +a portion of the sympathy she had so long bestowed on Evelina. She had +at last recognized her right to set up some lost opportunities of her +own; and once that dangerous precedent established, they began to crowd +upon her memory. + +It was at this stage of Ann Eliza's transformation that Evelina, looking +up one evening from her work, said suddenly: "My! She's stopped." + +Ann Eliza, raising her eyes from a brown merino seam, followed her +sister's glance across the room. It was a Monday, and they always wound +the clock on Sundays. + +"Are you sure you wound her yesterday, Evelina?" + +"Jest as sure as I live. She must be broke. I'll go and see." + +Evelina laid down the hat she was trimming, and took the clock from its +shelf. + +"There--I knew it! She's wound jest as TIGHT--what you suppose's +happened to her, Ann Eliza?" + +"I dunno, I'm sure," said the elder sister, wiping her spectacles before +proceeding to a close examination of the clock. + +With anxiously bent heads the two women shook and turned it, as though +they were trying to revive a living thing; but it remained unresponsive +to their touch, and at length Evelina laid it down with a sigh. + +"Seems like somethin' DEAD, don't it, Ann Eliza? How still the room is!" + +"Yes, ain't it?" + +"Well, I'll put her back where she belongs," Evelina continued, in the +tone of one about to perform the last offices for the departed. "And I +guess," she added, "you'll have to step round to Mr. Ramy's to-morrow, +and see if he can fix her." + +Ann Eliza's face burned. "I--yes, I guess I'll have to," she stammered, +stooping to pick up a spool of cotton which had rolled to the floor. A +sudden heart-throb stretched the seams of her flat alpaca bosom, and a +pulse leapt to life in each of her temples. + +That night, long after Evelina slept, Ann Eliza lay awake in the +unfamiliar silence, more acutely conscious of the nearness of the +crippled clock than when it had volubly told out the minutes. The next +morning she woke from a troubled dream of having carried it to Mr. +Ramy's, and found that he and his shop had vanished; and all through the +day's occupations the memory of this dream oppressed her. + +It had been agreed that Ann Eliza should take the clock to be repaired +as soon as they had dined; but while they were still at table a +weak-eyed little girl in a black apron stabbed with innumerable pins +burst in on them with the cry: "Oh, Miss Bunner, for mercy's sake! Miss +Mellins has been took again." + +Miss Mellins was the dress-maker upstairs, and the weak-eyed child one +of her youthful apprentices. + +Ann Eliza started from her seat. "I'll come at once. Quick, Evelina, the +cordial!" + +By this euphemistic name the sisters designated a bottle of cherry +brandy, the last of a dozen inherited from their grandmother, which they +kept locked in their cupboard against such emergencies. A moment later, +cordial in hand, Ann Eliza was hurrying upstairs behind the weak-eyed +child. + +Miss Mellins' "turn" was sufficiently serious to detain Ann Eliza for +nearly two hours, and dusk had fallen when she took up the depleted +bottle of cordial and descended again to the shop. It was empty, as +usual, and Evelina sat at her pinking-machine in the back room. Ann +Eliza was still agitated by her efforts to restore the dress-maker, but +in spite of her preoccupation she was struck, as soon as she entered, by +the loud tick of the clock, which still stood on the shelf where she had +left it. + +"Why, she's going!" she gasped, before Evelina could question her about +Miss Mellins. "Did she start up again by herself?" + +"Oh, no; but I couldn't stand not knowing what time it was, I've got so +accustomed to having her round; and just after you went upstairs Mrs. +Hawkins dropped in, so I asked her to tend the store for a minute, and +I clapped on my things and ran right round to Mr. Ramy's. It turned out +there wasn't anything the matter with her--nothin' on'y a speck of dust +in the works--and he fixed her for me in a minute and I brought her +right back. Ain't it lovely to hear her going again? But tell me about +Miss Mellins, quick!" + +For a moment Ann Eliza found no words. Not till she learned that she had +missed her chance did she understand how many hopes had hung upon +it. Even now she did not know why she had wanted so much to see the +clock-maker again. + +"I s'pose it's because nothing's ever happened to me," she thought, with +a twinge of envy for the fate which gave Evelina every opportunity +that came their way. "She had the Sunday-school teacher too," Ann +Eliza murmured to herself; but she was well-trained in the arts of +renunciation, and after a scarcely perceptible pause she plunged into a +detailed description of the dress-maker's "turn." + +Evelina, when her curiosity was roused, was an insatiable questioner, +and it was supper-time before she had come to the end of her enquiries +about Miss Mellins; but when the two sisters had seated themselves at +their evening meal Ann Eliza at last found a chance to say: "So she on'y +had a speck of dust in her." + +Evelina understood at once that the reference was not to Miss Mellins. +"Yes--at least he thinks so," she answered, helping herself as a matter +of course to the first cup of tea. + +"On'y to think!" murmured Ann Eliza. + +"But he isn't SURE," Evelina continued, absently pushing the teapot +toward her sister. "It may be something wrong with the--I forget what he +called it. Anyhow, he said he'd call round and see, day after to-morrow, +after supper." + +"Who said?" gasped Ann Eliza. + +"Why, Mr. Ramy, of course. I think he's real nice, Ann Eliza. And I +don't believe he's forty; but he DOES look sick. I guess he's pretty +lonesome, all by himself in that store. He as much as told me so, and +somehow"--Evelina paused and bridled--"I kinder thought that maybe his +saying he'd call round about the clock was on'y just an excuse. He said +it just as I was going out of the store. What you think, Ann Eliza?" + +"Oh, I don't har'ly know." To save herself, Ann Eliza could produce +nothing warmer. + +"Well, I don't pretend to be smarter than other folks," said Evelina, +putting a conscious hand to her hair, "but I guess Mr. Herman Ramy +wouldn't be sorry to pass an evening here, 'stead of spending it all +alone in that poky little place of his." + +Her self-consciousness irritated Ann Eliza. + +"I guess he's got plenty of friends of his own," she said, almost +harshly. + +"No, he ain't, either. He's got hardly any." + +"Did he tell you that too?" Even to her own ears there was a faint sneer +in the interrogation. + +"Yes, he did," said Evelina, dropping her lids with a smile. "He seemed +to be just crazy to talk to somebody--somebody agreeable, I mean. I +think the man's unhappy, Ann Eliza." + +"So do I," broke from the elder sister. + +"He seems such an educated man, too. He was reading the paper when +I went in. Ain't it sad to think of his being reduced to that little +store, after being years at Tiff'ny's, and one of the head men in their +clock-department?" + +"He told you all that?" + +"Why, yes. I think he'd a' told me everything ever happened to him if +I'd had the time to stay and listen. I tell you he's dead lonely, Ann +Eliza." + +"Yes," said Ann Eliza. + + + + +III + + +Two days afterward, Ann Eliza noticed that Evelina, before they sat down +to supper, pinned a crimson bow under her collar; and when the meal +was finished the younger sister, who seldom concerned herself with the +clearing of the table, set about with nervous haste to help Ann Eliza in +the removal of the dishes. + +"I hate to see food mussing about," she grumbled. "Ain't it hateful +having to do everything in one room?" + +"Oh, Evelina, I've always thought we was so comfortable," Ann Eliza +protested. + +"Well, so we are, comfortable enough; but I don't suppose there's any +harm in my saying I wisht we had a parlour, is there? Anyway, we might +manage to buy a screen to hide the bed." + +Ann Eliza coloured. There was something vaguely embarrassing in +Evelina's suggestion. + +"I always think if we ask for more what we have may be taken from us," +she ventured. + +"Well, whoever took it wouldn't get much," Evelina retorted with a laugh +as she swept up the table-cloth. + +A few moments later the back room was in its usual flawless order and +the two sisters had seated themselves near the lamp. Ann Eliza had taken +up her sewing, and Evelina was preparing to make artificial flowers. +The sisters usually relegated this more delicate business to the long +leisure of the summer months; but to-night Evelina had brought out the +box which lay all winter under the bed, and spread before her a bright +array of muslin petals, yellow stamens and green corollas, and a tray of +little implements curiously suggestive of the dental art. Ann Eliza made +no remark on this unusual proceeding; perhaps she guessed why, for that +evening her sister had chosen a graceful task. + +Presently a knock on the outer door made them look up; but Evelina, the +first on her feet, said promptly: "Sit still. I'll see who it is." + +Ann Eliza was glad to sit still: the baby's petticoat that she was +stitching shook in her fingers. + +"Sister, here's Mr. Ramy come to look at the clock," said Evelina, a +moment later, in the high drawl she cultivated before strangers; and +a shortish man with a pale bearded face and upturned coat-collar came +stiffly into the room. + +Ann Eliza let her work fall as she stood up. "You're very welcome, I'm +sure, Mr. Ramy. It's real kind of you to call." + +"Nod ad all, ma'am." A tendency to illustrate Grimm's law in the +interchange of his consonants betrayed the clockmaker's nationality, but +he was evidently used to speaking English, or at least the particular +branch of the vernacular with which the Bunner sisters were familiar. +"I don't like to led any clock go out of my store without being sure it +gives satisfaction," he added. + +"Oh--but we were satisfied," Ann Eliza assured him. + +"But I wasn't, you see, ma'am," said Mr. Ramy looking slowly about the +room, "nor I won't be, not till I see that clock's going all right." + +"May I assist you off with your coat, Mr. Ramy?" Evelina interposed. She +could never trust Ann Eliza to remember these opening ceremonies. + +"Thank you, ma'am," he replied, and taking his thread-bare over-coat and +shabby hat she laid them on a chair with the gesture she imagined the +lady with the puffed sleeves might make use of on similar occasions. +Ann Eliza's social sense was roused, and she felt that the next act +of hospitality must be hers. "Won't you suit yourself to a seat?" she +suggested. "My sister will reach down the clock; but I'm sure she's all +right again. She's went beautiful ever since you fixed her." + +"Dat's good," said Mr. Ramy. His lips parted in a smile which showed a +row of yellowish teeth with one or two gaps in it; but in spite of this +disclosure Ann Eliza thought his smile extremely pleasant: there was +something wistful and conciliating in it which agreed with the pathos +of his sunken cheeks and prominent eyes. As he took the lamp, the light +fell on his bulging forehead and wide skull thinly covered with grayish +hair. His hands were pale and broad, with knotty joints and square +finger-tips rimmed with grime; but his touch was as light as a woman's. + +"Well, ladies, dat clock's all right," he pronounced. + +"I'm sure we're very much obliged to you," said Evelina, throwing a +glance at her sister. + +"Oh," Ann Eliza murmured, involuntarily answering the admonition. +She selected a key from the bunch that hung at her waist with her +cutting-out scissors, and fitting it into the lock of the cupboard, +brought out the cherry brandy and three old-fashioned glasses engraved +with vine-wreaths. + +"It's a very cold night," she said, "and maybe you'd like a sip of this +cordial. It was made a great while ago by our grandmother." + +"It looks fine," said Mr. Ramy bowing, and Ann Eliza filled the glasses. +In her own and Evelina's she poured only a few drops, but she filled +their guest's to the brim. "My sister and I seldom take wine," she +explained. + +With another bow, which included both his hostesses, Mr. Ramy drank off +the cherry brandy and pronounced it excellent. + +Evelina meanwhile, with an assumption of industry intended to put +their guest at ease, had taken up her instruments and was twisting a +rose-petal into shape. + +"You make artificial flowers, I see, ma'am," said Mr. Ramy with +interest. "It's very pretty work. I had a lady-vriend in Shermany dat +used to make flowers." He put out a square finger-tip to touch the +petal. + +Evelina blushed a little. "You left Germany long ago, I suppose?" + +"Dear me yes, a goot while ago. I was only ninedeen when I come to the +States." + +After this the conversation dragged on intermittently till Mr. Ramy, +peering about the room with the short-sighted glance of his race, said +with an air of interest: "You're pleasantly fixed here; it looks real +cosy." The note of wistfulness in his voice was obscurely moving to Ann +Eliza. + +"Oh, we live very plainly," said Evelina, with an affectation of +grandeur deeply impressive to her sister. "We have very simple tastes." + +"You look real comfortable, anyhow," said Mr. Ramy. His bulging eyes +seemed to muster the details of the scene with a gentle envy. "I wisht +I had as good a store; but I guess no blace seems home-like when you're +always alone in it." + +For some minutes longer the conversation moved on at this desultory +pace, and then Mr. Ramy, who had been obviously nerving himself for +the difficult act of departure, took his leave with an abruptness +which would have startled anyone used to the subtler gradations +of intercourse. But to Ann Eliza and her sister there was nothing +surprising in his abrupt retreat. The long-drawn agonies of preparing to +leave, and the subsequent dumb plunge through the door, were so usual in +their circle that they would have been as much embarrassed as Mr. Ramy +if he had tried to put any fluency into his adieux. + +After he had left both sisters remained silent for a while; then +Evelina, laying aside her unfinished flower, said: "I'll go and lock +up." + + + + +IV + + +Intolerably monotonous seemed now to the Bunner sisters the treadmill +routine of the shop, colourless and long their evenings about the lamp, +aimless their habitual interchange of words to the weary accompaniment +of the sewing and pinking machines. + +It was perhaps with the idea of relieving the tension of their mood +that Evelina, the following Sunday, suggested inviting Miss Mellins to +supper. The Bunner sisters were not in a position to be lavish of the +humblest hospitality, but two or three times in the year they shared +their evening meal with a friend; and Miss Mellins, still flushed with +the importance of her "turn," seemed the most interesting guest they +could invite. + +As the three women seated themselves at the supper-table, embellished by +the unwonted addition of pound cake and sweet pickles, the dress-maker's +sharp swarthy person stood out vividly between the neutral-tinted +sisters. Miss Mellins was a small woman with a glossy yellow face and +a frizz of black hair bristling with imitation tortoise-shell pins. Her +sleeves had a fashionable cut, and half a dozen metal bangles rattled +on her wrists. Her voice rattled like her bangles as she poured forth a +stream of anecdote and ejaculation; and her round black eyes jumped with +acrobatic velocity from one face to another. Miss Mellins was always +having or hearing of amazing adventures. She had surprised a burglar in +her room at midnight (though how he got there, what he robbed her +of, and by what means he escaped had never been quite clear to her +auditors); she had been warned by anonymous letters that her grocer (a +rejected suitor) was putting poison in her tea; she had a customer who +was shadowed by detectives, and another (a very wealthy lady) who +had been arrested in a department store for kleptomania; she had been +present at a spiritualist seance where an old gentleman had died in a +fit on seeing a materialization of his mother-in-law; she had escaped +from two fires in her night-gown, and at the funeral of her first cousin +the horses attached to the hearse had run away and smashed the coffin, +precipitating her relative into an open man-hole before the eyes of his +distracted family. + +A sceptical observer might have explained Miss Mellins's proneness to +adventure by the fact that she derived her chief mental nourishment from +the Police Gazette and the Fireside Weekly; but her lot was cast in a +circle where such insinuations were not likely to be heard, and where +the title-role in blood-curdling drama had long been her recognized +right. + +"Yes," she was now saying, her emphatic eyes on Ann Eliza, "you may not +believe it, Miss Bunner, and I don't know's I should myself if anybody +else was to tell me, but over a year before ever I was born, my mother +she went to see a gypsy fortune-teller that was exhibited in a tent on +the Battery with the green-headed lady, though her father warned her +not to--and what you s'pose she told her? Why, she told her these very +words--says she: 'Your next child'll be a girl with jet-black curls, and +she'll suffer from spasms.'" + +"Mercy!" murmured Ann Eliza, a ripple of sympathy running down her +spine. + +"D'you ever have spasms before, Miss Mellins?" Evelina asked. + +"Yes, ma'am," the dress-maker declared. "And where'd you suppose I had +'em? Why, at my cousin Emma McIntyre's wedding, her that married the +apothecary over in Jersey City, though her mother appeared to her in a +dream and told her she'd rue the day she done it, but as Emma said, +she got more advice than she wanted from the living, and if she was to +listen to spectres too she'd never be sure what she'd ought to do and +what she'd oughtn't; but I will say her husband took to drink, and she +never was the same woman after her fust baby--well, they had an elegant +church wedding, and what you s'pose I saw as I was walkin' up the aisle +with the wedding percession?" + +"Well?" Ann Eliza whispered, forgetting to thread her needle. + +"Why, a coffin, to be sure, right on the top step of the chancel--Emma's +folks is 'piscopalians and she would have a church wedding, though HIS +mother raised a terrible rumpus over it--well, there it set, right in +front of where the minister stood that was going to marry 'em, a coffin +covered with a black velvet pall with a gold fringe, and a 'Gates Ajar' +in white camellias atop of it." + +"Goodness," said Evelina, starting, "there's a knock!" + +"Who can it be?" shuddered Ann Eliza, still under the spell of Miss +Mellins's hallucination. + +Evelina rose and lit a candle to guide her through the shop. They heard +her turn the key of the outer door, and a gust of night air stirred the +close atmosphere of the back room; then there was a sound of vivacious +exclamations, and Evelina returned with Mr. Ramy. + +Ann Eliza's heart rocked like a boat in a heavy sea, and the +dress-maker's eyes, distended with curiosity, sprang eagerly from face +to face. + +"I just thought I'd call in again," said Mr. Ramy, evidently somewhat +disconcerted by the presence of Miss Mellins. "Just to see how the +clock's behaving," he added with his hollow-cheeked smile. + +"Oh, she's behaving beautiful," said Ann Eliza; "but we're real glad to +see you all the same. Miss Mellins, let me make you acquainted with Mr. +Ramy." + +The dress-maker tossed back her head and dropped her lids in +condescending recognition of the stranger's presence; and Mr. Ramy +responded by an awkward bow. After the first moment of constraint a +renewed sense of satisfaction filled the consciousness of the three +women. The Bunner sisters were not sorry to let Miss Mellins see that +they received an occasional evening visit, and Miss Mellins was clearly +enchanted at the opportunity of pouring her latest tale into a new ear. +As for Mr. Ramy, he adjusted himself to the situation with greater ease +than might have been expected, and Evelina, who had been sorry that he +should enter the room while the remains of supper still lingered on +the table, blushed with pleasure at his good-humored offer to help her +"glear away." + +The table cleared, Ann Eliza suggested a game of cards; and it was after +eleven o'clock when Mr. Ramy rose to take leave. His adieux were so much +less abrupt than on the occasion of his first visit that Evelina was +able to satisfy her sense of etiquette by escorting him, candle in hand, +to the outer door; and as the two disappeared into the shop Miss Mellins +playfully turned to Ann Eliza. + +"Well, well, Miss Bunner," she murmured, jerking her chin in the +direction of the retreating figures, "I'd no idea your sister was +keeping company. On'y to think!" + +Ann Eliza, roused from a state of dreamy beatitude, turned her timid +eyes on the dress-maker. + +"Oh, you're mistaken, Miss Mellins. We don't har'ly know Mr. Ramy." + +Miss Mellins smiled incredulously. "You go 'long, Miss Bunner. I guess +there'll be a wedding somewheres round here before spring, and I'll be +real offended if I ain't asked to make the dress. I've always seen her +in a gored satin with rooshings." + +Ann Eliza made no answer. She had grown very pale, and her eyes lingered +searchingly on Evelina as the younger sister re-entered the room. +Evelina's cheeks were pink, and her blue eyes glittered; but it seemed +to Ann Eliza that the coquettish tilt of her head regrettably emphasized +the weakness of her receding chin. It was the first time that Ann +Eliza had ever seen a flaw in her sister's beauty, and her involuntary +criticism startled her like a secret disloyalty. + +That night, after the light had been put out, the elder sister knelt +longer than usual at her prayers. In the silence of the darkened +room she was offering up certain dreams and aspirations whose brief +blossoming had lent a transient freshness to her days. She wondered +now how she could ever have supposed that Mr. Ramy's visits had another +cause than the one Miss Mellins suggested. Had not the sight of Evelina +first inspired him with a sudden solicitude for the welfare of the +clock? And what charms but Evelina's could have induced him to repeat +his visit? Grief held up its torch to the frail fabric of Ann Eliza's +illusions, and with a firm heart she watched them shrivel into ashes; +then, rising from her knees full of the chill joy of renunciation, she +laid a kiss on the crimping pins of the sleeping Evelina and crept under +the bedspread at her side. + + + + +V + + +During the months that followed, Mr. Ramy visited the sisters with +increasing frequency. It became his habit to call on them every Sunday +evening, and occasionally during the week he would find an excuse for +dropping in unannounced as they were settling down to their work beside +the lamp. Ann Eliza noticed that Evelina now took the precaution of +putting on her crimson bow every evening before supper, and that she +had refurbished with a bit of carefully washed lace the black silk +which they still called new because it had been bought a year after Ann +Eliza's. + +Mr. Ramy, as he grew more intimate, became less conversational, and +after the sisters had blushingly accorded him the privilege of a pipe he +began to permit himself long stretches of meditative silence that +were not without charm to his hostesses. There was something at once +fortifying and pacific in the sense of that tranquil male presence in +an atmosphere which had so long quivered with little feminine doubts and +distresses; and the sisters fell into the habit of saying to each other, +in moments of uncertainty: "We'll ask Mr. Ramy when he comes," and of +accepting his verdict, whatever it might be, with a fatalistic readiness +that relieved them of all responsibility. + +When Mr. Ramy drew the pipe from his mouth and became, in his turn, +confidential, the acuteness of their sympathy grew almost painful to the +sisters. With passionate participation they listened to the story of his +early struggles in Germany, and of the long illness which had been the +cause of his recent misfortunes. The name of the Mrs. Hochmuller (an old +comrade's widow) who had nursed him through his fever was greeted with +reverential sighs and an inward pang of envy whenever it recurred in his +biographical monologues, and once when the sisters were alone Evelina +called a responsive flush to Ann Eliza's brow by saying suddenly, +without the mention of any name: "I wonder what she's like?" + +One day toward spring Mr. Ramy, who had by this time become as much a +part of their lives as the letter-carrier or the milkman, ventured the +suggestion that the ladies should accompany him to an exhibition of +stereopticon views which was to take place at Chickering Hall on the +following evening. + +After their first breathless "Oh!" of pleasure there was a silence +of mutual consultation, which Ann Eliza at last broke by saying: "You +better go with Mr. Ramy, Evelina. I guess we don't both want to leave +the store at night." + +Evelina, with such protests as politeness demanded, acquiesced in this +opinion, and spent the next day in trimming a white chip bonnet with +forget-me-nots of her own making. Ann Eliza brought out her mosaic +brooch, a cashmere scarf of their mother's was taken from its linen +cerements, and thus adorned Evelina blushingly departed with Mr. Ramy, +while the elder sister sat down in her place at the pinking-machine. + +It seemed to Ann Eliza that she was alone for hours, and she was +surprised, when she heard Evelina tap on the door, to find that the +clock marked only half-past ten. + +"It must have gone wrong again," she reflected as she rose to let her +sister in. + +The evening had been brilliantly interesting, and several striking +stereopticon views of Berlin had afforded Mr. Ramy the opportunity of +enlarging on the marvels of his native city. + +"He said he'd love to show it all to me!" Evelina declared as Ann Eliza +conned her glowing face. "Did you ever hear anything so silly? I didn't +know which way to look." + +Ann Eliza received this confidence with a sympathetic murmur. + +"My bonnet IS becoming, isn't it?" Evelina went on irrelevantly, smiling +at her reflection in the cracked glass above the chest of drawers. + +"You're jest lovely," said Ann Eliza. + + +Spring was making itself unmistakably known to the distrustful New +Yorker by an increased harshness of wind and prevalence of dust, when +one day Evelina entered the back room at supper-time with a cluster of +jonquils in her hand. + +"I was just that foolish," she answered Ann Eliza's wondering glance, "I +couldn't help buyin' 'em. I felt as if I must have something pretty to +look at right away." + +"Oh, sister," said Ann Eliza, in trembling sympathy. She felt that +special indulgence must be conceded to those in Evelina's state since +she had had her own fleeting vision of such mysterious longings as the +words betrayed. + +Evelina, meanwhile, had taken the bundle of dried grasses out of the +broken china vase, and was putting the jonquils in their place with +touches that lingered down their smooth stems and blade-like leaves. + +"Ain't they pretty?" she kept repeating as she gathered the flowers into +a starry circle. "Seems as if spring was really here, don't it?" + +Ann Eliza remembered that it was Mr. Ramy's evening. + +When he came, the Teutonic eye for anything that blooms made him turn at +once to the jonquils. + +"Ain't dey pretty?" he said. "Seems like as if de spring was really +here." + +"Don't it?" Evelina exclaimed, thrilled by the coincidence of their +thought. "It's just what I was saying to my sister." + +Ann Eliza got up suddenly and moved away; she remembered that she had +not wound the clock the day before. Evelina was sitting at the table; +the jonquils rose slenderly between herself and Mr. Ramy. + +"Oh," she murmured with vague eyes, "how I'd love to get away somewheres +into the country this very minute--somewheres where it was green and +quiet. Seems as if I couldn't stand the city another day." But Ann Eliza +noticed that she was looking at Mr. Ramy, and not at the flowers. + +"I guess we might go to Cendral Park some Sunday," their visitor +suggested. "Do you ever go there, Miss Evelina?" + +"No, we don't very often; leastways we ain't been for a good while." She +sparkled at the prospect. "It would be lovely, wouldn't it, Ann Eliza?" + +"Why, yes," said the elder sister, coming back to her seat. + +"Well, why don't we go next Sunday?" Mr. Ramy continued. "And we'll +invite Miss Mellins too--that'll make a gosy little party." + +That night when Evelina undressed she took a jonquil from the vase +and pressed it with a certain ostentation between the leaves of her +prayer-book. Ann Eliza, covertly observing her, felt that Evelina was +not sorry to be observed, and that her own acute consciousness of the +act was somehow regarded as magnifying its significance. + +The following Sunday broke blue and warm. The Bunner sisters were +habitual church-goers, but for once they left their prayer-books on the +what-not, and ten o'clock found them, gloved and bonneted, awaiting Miss +Mellins's knock. Miss Mellins presently appeared in a glitter of jet +sequins and spangles, with a tale of having seen a strange man prowling +under her windows till he was called off at dawn by a confederate's +whistle; and shortly afterward came Mr. Ramy, his hair brushed with more +than usual care, his broad hands encased in gloves of olive-green kid. + +The little party set out for the nearest street-car, and a flutter of +mingled gratification and embarrassment stirred Ann Eliza's bosom when +it was found that Mr. Ramy intended to pay their fares. Nor did he fail +to live up to this opening liberality; for after guiding them through +the Mall and the Ramble he led the way to a rustic restaurant where, +also at his expense, they fared idyllically on milk and lemon-pie. + +After this they resumed their walk, strolling on with the slowness of +unaccustomed holiday-makers from one path to another--through budding +shrubberies, past grass-banks sprinkled with lilac crocuses, and under +rocks on which the forsythia lay like sudden sunshine. Everything about +her seemed new and miraculously lovely to Ann Eliza; but she kept her +feelings to herself, leaving it to Evelina to exclaim at the hepaticas +under the shady ledges, and to Miss Mellins, less interested in the +vegetable than in the human world, to remark significantly on the +probable history of the persons they met. All the alleys were thronged +with promenaders and obstructed by perambulators; and Miss Mellins's +running commentary threw a glare of lurid possibilities over the placid +family groups and their romping progeny. + +Ann Eliza was in no mood for such interpretations of life; but, knowing +that Miss Mellins had been invited for the sole purpose of keeping her +company she continued to cling to the dress-maker's side, letting +Mr. Ramy lead the way with Evelina. Miss Mellins, stimulated by the +excitement of the occasion, grew more and more discursive, and +her ceaseless talk, and the kaleidoscopic whirl of the crowd, were +unspeakably bewildering to Ann Eliza. Her feet, accustomed to the +slippered ease of the shop, ached with the unfamiliar effort of walking, +and her ears with the din of the dress-maker's anecdotes; but every +nerve in her was aware of Evelina's enjoyment, and she was determined +that no weariness of hers should curtail it. Yet even her heroism shrank +from the significant glances which Miss Mellins presently began to +cast at the couple in front of them: Ann Eliza could bear to connive at +Evelina's bliss, but not to acknowledge it to others. + +At length Evelina's feet also failed her, and she turned to suggest +that they ought to be going home. Her flushed face had grown pale with +fatigue, but her eyes were radiant. + +The return lived in Ann Eliza's memory with the persistence of an evil +dream. The horse-cars were packed with the returning throng, and they +had to let a dozen go by before they could push their way into one that +was already crowded. Ann Eliza had never before felt so tired. Even Miss +Mellins's flow of narrative ran dry, and they sat silent, wedged between +a negro woman and a pock-marked man with a bandaged head, while the car +rumbled slowly down a squalid avenue to their corner. Evelina and Mr. +Ramy sat together in the forward part of the car, and Ann Eliza could +catch only an occasional glimpse of the forget-me-not bonnet and the +clock-maker's shiny coat-collar; but when the little party got out at +their corner the crowd swept them together again, and they walked back +in the effortless silence of tired children to the Bunner sisters' +basement. As Miss Mellins and Mr. Ramy turned to go their various ways +Evelina mustered a last display of smiles; but Ann Eliza crossed the +threshold in silence, feeling the stillness of the little shop reach out +to her like consoling arms. + +That night she could not sleep; but as she lay cold and rigid at her +sister's side, she suddenly felt the pressure of Evelina's arms, and +heard her whisper: "Oh, Ann Eliza, warn't it heavenly?" + + + + +VI + + +For four days after their Sunday in the Park the Bunner sisters had no +news of Mr. Ramy. At first neither one betrayed her disappointment and +anxiety to the other; but on the fifth morning Evelina, always the first +to yield to her feelings, said, as she turned from her untasted tea: "I +thought you'd oughter take that money out by now, Ann Eliza." + +Ann Eliza understood and reddened. The winter had been a fairly +prosperous one for the sisters, and their slowly accumulated savings +had now reached the handsome sum of two hundred dollars; but the +satisfaction they might have felt in this unwonted opulence had been +clouded by a suggestion of Miss Mellins's that there were dark rumours +concerning the savings bank in which their funds were deposited. They +knew Miss Mellins was given to vain alarms; but her words, by the sheer +force of repetition, had so shaken Ann Eliza's peace that after long +hours of midnight counsel the sisters had decided to advise with +Mr. Ramy; and on Ann Eliza, as the head of the house, this duty +had devolved. Mr. Ramy, when consulted, had not only confirmed the +dress-maker's report, but had offered to find some safe investment which +should give the sisters a higher rate of interest than the suspected +savings bank; and Ann Eliza knew that Evelina alluded to the suggested +transfer. + +"Why, yes, to be sure," she agreed. "Mr. Ramy said if he was us he +wouldn't want to leave his money there any longer'n he could help." + +"It was over a week ago he said it," Evelina reminded her. + +"I know; but he told me to wait till he'd found out for sure about that +other investment; and we ain't seen him since then." + +Ann Eliza's words released their secret fear. "I wonder what's happened +to him," Evelina said. "You don't suppose he could be sick?" + +"I was wondering too," Ann Eliza rejoined; and the sisters looked down +at their plates. + +"I should think you'd oughter do something about that money pretty +soon," Evelina began again. + +"Well, I know I'd oughter. What would you do if you was me?" + +"If I was YOU," said her sister, with perceptible emphasis and a rising +blush, "I'd go right round and see if Mr. Ramy was sick. YOU could." + +The words pierced Ann Eliza like a blade. "Yes, that's so," she said. + +"It would only seem friendly, if he really IS sick. If I was you I'd go +to-day," Evelina continued; and after dinner Ann Eliza went. + +On the way she had to leave a parcel at the dyer's, and having performed +that errand she turned toward Mr. Ramy's shop. Never before had she felt +so old, so hopeless and humble. She knew she was bound on a love-errand +of Evelina's, and the knowledge seemed to dry the last drop of young +blood in her veins. It took from her, too, all her faded virginal +shyness; and with a brisk composure she turned the handle of the +clock-maker's door. + +But as she entered her heart began to tremble, for she saw Mr. Ramy, his +face hidden in his hands, sitting behind the counter in an attitude of +strange dejection. At the click of the latch he looked up slowly, fixing +a lustreless stare on Ann Eliza. For a moment she thought he did not +know her. + +"Oh, you're sick!" she exclaimed; and the sound of her voice seemed to +recall his wandering senses. + +"Why, if it ain't Miss Bunner!" he said, in a low thick tone; but he +made no attempt to move, and she noticed that his face was the colour of +yellow ashes. + +"You ARE sick," she persisted, emboldened by his evident need of help. +"Mr. Ramy, it was real unfriendly of you not to let us know." + +He continued to look at her with dull eyes. "I ain't been sick," he +said. "Leastways not very: only one of my old turns." He spoke in a slow +laboured way, as if he had difficulty in getting his words together. + +"Rheumatism?" she ventured, seeing how unwillingly he seemed to move. + +"Well--somethin' like, maybe. I couldn't hardly put a name to it." + +"If it WAS anything like rheumatism, my grandmother used to make a +tea--" Ann Eliza began: she had forgotten, in the warmth of the moment, +that she had only come as Evelina's messenger. + +At the mention of tea an expression of uncontrollable repugnance passed +over Mr. Ramy's face. "Oh, I guess I'm getting on all right. I've just +got a headache to-day." + +Ann Eliza's courage dropped at the note of refusal in his voice. + +"I'm sorry," she said gently. "My sister and me'd have been glad to do +anything we could for you." + +"Thank you kindly," said Mr. Ramy wearily; then, as she turned to the +door, he added with an effort: "Maybe I'll step round to-morrow." + +"We'll be real glad," Ann Eliza repeated. Her eyes were fixed on a dusty +bronze clock in the window. She was unaware of looking at it at +the time, but long afterward she remembered that it represented a +Newfoundland dog with his paw on an open book. + +When she reached home there was a purchaser in the shop, turning over +hooks and eyes under Evelina's absent-minded supervision. Ann Eliza +passed hastily into the back room, but in an instant she heard her +sister at her side. + +"Quick! I told her I was goin' to look for some smaller hooks--how is +he?" Evelina gasped. + +"He ain't been very well," said Ann Eliza slowly, her eyes on Evelina's +eager face; "but he says he'll be sure to be round to-morrow night." + +"He will? Are you telling me the truth?" + +"Why, Evelina Bunner!" + +"Oh, I don't care!" cried the younger recklessly, rushing back into the +shop. + +Ann Eliza stood burning with the shame of Evelina's self-exposure. She +was shocked that, even to her, Evelina should lay bare the nakedness of +her emotion; and she tried to turn her thoughts from it as though its +recollection made her a sharer in her sister's debasement. + +The next evening, Mr. Ramy reappeared, still somewhat sallow and +red-lidded, but otherwise his usual self. Ann Eliza consulted him about +the investment he had recommended, and after it had been settled that he +should attend to the matter for her he took up the illustrated volume of +Longfellow--for, as the sisters had learned, his culture soared beyond +the newspapers--and read aloud, with a fine confusion of consonants, the +poem on "Maidenhood." Evelina lowered her lids while he read. It was a +very beautiful evening, and Ann Eliza thought afterward how different +life might have been with a companion who read poetry like Mr. Ramy. + + + + +VII + + +During the ensuing weeks Mr. Ramy, though his visits were as frequent as +ever, did not seem to regain his usual spirits. He complained frequently +of headache, but rejected Ann Eliza's tentatively proffered remedies, +and seemed to shrink from any prolonged investigation of his symptoms. +July had come, with a sudden ardour of heat, and one evening, as the +three sat together by the open window in the back room, Evelina said: +"I dunno what I wouldn't give, a night like this, for a breath of real +country air." + +"So would I," said Mr. Ramy, knocking the ashes from his pipe. "I'd like +to be setting in an arbour dis very minute." + +"Oh, wouldn't it be lovely?" + +"I always think it's real cool here--we'd be heaps hotter up where Miss +Mellins is," said Ann Eliza. + +"Oh, I daresay--but we'd be heaps cooler somewhere else," her sister +snapped: she was not infrequently exasperated by Ann Eliza's furtive +attempts to mollify Providence. + +A few days later Mr. Ramy appeared with a suggestion which enchanted +Evelina. He had gone the day before to see his friend, Mrs. Hochmuller, +who lived in the outskirts of Hoboken, and Mrs. Hochmuller had proposed +that on the following Sunday he should bring the Bunner sisters to spend +the day with her. + +"She's got a real garden, you know," Mr. Ramy explained, "wid trees and +a real summer-house to set in; and hens and chickens too. And it's an +elegant sail over on de ferry-boat." + +The proposal drew no response from Ann Eliza. She was still oppressed by +the recollection of her interminable Sunday in the Park; but, obedient +to Evelina's imperious glance, she finally faltered out an acceptance. + +The Sunday was a very hot one, and once on the ferry-boat Ann Eliza +revived at the touch of the salt breeze, and the spectacle of the +crowded waters; but when they reached the other shore, and stepped out +on the dirty wharf, she began to ache with anticipated weariness. They +got into a street-car, and were jolted from one mean street to another, +till at length Mr. Ramy pulled the conductor's sleeve and they got out +again; then they stood in the blazing sun, near the door of a crowded +beer-saloon, waiting for another car to come; and that carried them out +to a thinly settled district, past vacant lots and narrow brick houses +standing in unsupported solitude, till they finally reached an almost +rural region of scattered cottages and low wooden buildings that looked +like village "stores." Here the car finally stopped of its own accord, +and they walked along a rutty road, past a stone-cutter's yard with a +high fence tapestried with theatrical advertisements, to a little red +house with green blinds and a garden paling. Really, Mr. Ramy had not +deceived them. Clumps of dielytra and day-lilies bloomed behind the +paling, and a crooked elm hung romantically over the gable of the house. + +At the gate Mrs. Hochmuller, a broad woman in brick-brown merino, met +them with nods and smiles, while her daughter Linda, a flaxen-haired +girl with mottled red cheeks and a sidelong stare, hovered inquisitively +behind her. Mrs. Hochmuller, leading the way into the house, conducted +the Bunner sisters the way to her bedroom. Here they were invited to +spread out on a mountainous white featherbed the cashmere mantles under +which the solemnity of the occasion had compelled them to swelter, +and when they had given their black silks the necessary twitch +of readjustment, and Evelina had fluffed out her hair before a +looking-glass framed in pink-shell work, their hostess led them to a +stuffy parlour smelling of gingerbread. After another ceremonial pause, +broken by polite enquiries and shy ejaculations, they were shown into +the kitchen, where the table was already spread with strange-looking +spice-cakes and stewed fruits, and where they presently found themselves +seated between Mrs. Hochmuller and Mr. Ramy, while the staring Linda +bumped back and forth from the stove with steaming dishes. + +To Ann Eliza the dinner seemed endless, and the rich fare strangely +unappetizing. She was abashed by the easy intimacy of her hostess's +voice and eye. With Mr. Ramy Mrs. Hochmuller was almost flippantly +familiar, and it was only when Ann Eliza pictured her generous form bent +above his sick-bed that she could forgive her for tersely addressing him +as "Ramy." During one of the pauses of the meal Mrs. Hochmuller laid her +knife and fork against the edges of her plate, and, fixing her eyes +on the clock-maker's face, said accusingly: "You hat one of dem turns +again, Ramy." + +"I dunno as I had," he returned evasively. + +Evelina glanced from one to the other. "Mr. Ramy HAS been sick," she +said at length, as though to show that she also was in a position to +speak with authority. "He's complained very frequently of headaches." + +"Ho!--I know him," said Mrs. Hochmuller with a laugh, her eyes still on +the clock-maker. "Ain't you ashamed of yourself, Ramy?" + +Mr. Ramy, who was looking at his plate, said suddenly one word which the +sisters could not understand; it sounded to Ann Eliza like "Shwike." + +Mrs. Hochmuller laughed again. "My, my," she said, "wouldn't you think +he'd be ashamed to go and be sick and never dell me, me that nursed him +troo dat awful fever?" + +"Yes, I SHOULD," said Evelina, with a spirited glance at Ramy; but he +was looking at the sausages that Linda had just put on the table. + +When dinner was over Mrs. Hochmuller invited her guests to step out of +the kitchen-door, and they found themselves in a green enclosure, half +garden, half orchard. Grey hens followed by golden broods clucked under +the twisted apple-boughs, a cat dozed on the edge of an old well, and +from tree to tree ran the network of clothes-line that denoted Mrs. +Hochmuller's calling. Beyond the apple trees stood a yellow summer-house +festooned with scarlet runners; and below it, on the farther side of +a rough fence, the land dipped down, holding a bit of woodland in +its hollow. It was all strangely sweet and still on that hot Sunday +afternoon, and as she moved across the grass under the apple-boughs Ann +Eliza thought of quiet afternoons in church, and of the hymns her mother +had sung to her when she was a baby. + +Evelina was more restless. She wandered from the well to the +summer-house and back, she tossed crumbs to the chickens and disturbed +the cat with arch caresses; and at last she expressed a desire to go +down into the wood. + +"I guess you got to go round by the road, then," said Mrs. Hochmuller. +"My Linda she goes troo a hole in de fence, but I guess you'd tear your +dress if you was to dry." + +"I'll help you," said Mr. Ramy; and guided by Linda the pair walked +along the fence till they reached a narrow gap in its boards. Through +this they disappeared, watched curiously in their descent by the +grinning Linda, while Mrs. Hochmuller and Ann Eliza were left alone in +the summer-house. + +Mrs. Hochmuller looked at her guest with a confidential smile. "I guess +dey'll be gone quite a while," she remarked, jerking her double chin +toward the gap in the fence. "Folks like dat don't never remember about +de dime." And she drew out her knitting. + +Ann Eliza could think of nothing to say. + +"Your sister she thinks a great lot of him, don't she?" her hostess +continued. + +Ann Eliza's cheeks grew hot. "Ain't you a teeny bit lonesome away out +here sometimes?" she asked. "I should think you'd be scared nights, all +alone with your daughter." + +"Oh, no, I ain't," said Mrs. Hochmuller. "You see I take in +washing--dat's my business--and it's a lot cheaper doing it out here dan +in de city: where'd I get a drying-ground like dis in Hobucken? And den +it's safer for Linda too; it geeps her outer de streets." + +"Oh," said Ann Eliza, shrinking. She began to feel a distinct aversion +for her hostess, and her eyes turned with involuntary annoyance to the +square-backed form of Linda, still inquisitively suspended on the fence. +It seemed to Ann Eliza that Evelina and her companion would never return +from the wood; but they came at length, Mr. Ramy's brow pearled with +perspiration, Evelina pink and conscious, a drooping bunch of ferns in +her hand; and it was clear that, to her at least, the moments had been +winged. + +"D'you suppose they'll revive?" she asked, holding up the ferns; but +Ann Eliza, rising at her approach, said stiffly: "We'd better be getting +home, Evelina." + +"Mercy me! Ain't you going to take your coffee first?" Mrs. Hochmuller +protested; and Ann Eliza found to her dismay that another long +gastronomic ceremony must intervene before politeness permitted them +to leave. At length, however, they found themselves again on the +ferry-boat. Water and sky were grey, with a dividing gleam of sunset +that sent sleek opal waves in the boat's wake. The wind had a cool tarry +breath, as though it had travelled over miles of shipping, and the hiss +of the water about the paddles was as delicious as though it had been +splashed into their tired faces. + +Ann Eliza sat apart, looking away from the others. She had made up her +mind that Mr. Ramy had proposed to Evelina in the wood, and she was +silently preparing herself to receive her sister's confidence that +evening. + +But Evelina was apparently in no mood for confidences. When they reached +home she put her faded ferns in water, and after supper, when she had +laid aside her silk dress and the forget-me-not bonnet, she remained +silently seated in her rocking-chair near the open window. It was long +since Ann Eliza had seen her in so uncommunicative a mood. + + +The following Saturday Ann Eliza was sitting alone in the shop when the +door opened and Mr. Ramy entered. He had never before called at that +hour, and she wondered a little anxiously what had brought him. + +"Has anything happened?" she asked, pushing aside the basketful of +buttons she had been sorting. + +"Not's I know of," said Mr. Ramy tranquilly. "But I always close up the +store at two o'clock Saturdays at this season, so I thought I might as +well call round and see you." + +"I'm real glad, I'm sure," said Ann Eliza; "but Evelina's out." + +"I know dat," Mr. Ramy answered. "I met her round de corner. She told me +she got to go to dat new dyer's up in Forty-eighth Street. She won't be +back for a couple of hours, har'ly, will she?" + +Ann Eliza looked at him with rising bewilderment. "No, I guess not," she +answered; her instinctive hospitality prompting her to add: "Won't you +set down jest the same?" + +Mr. Ramy sat down on the stool beside the counter, and Ann Eliza +returned to her place behind it. + +"I can't leave the store," she explained. + +"Well, I guess we're very well here." Ann Eliza had become suddenly +aware that Mr. Ramy was looking at her with unusual intentness. +Involuntarily her hand strayed to the thin streaks of hair on her +temples, and thence descended to straighten the brooch beneath her +collar. + +"You're looking very well to-day, Miss Bunner," said Mr. Ramy, following +her gesture with a smile. + +"Oh," said Ann Eliza nervously. "I'm always well in health," she added. + +"I guess you're healthier than your sister, even if you are less +sizeable." + +"Oh, I don't know. Evelina's a mite nervous sometimes, but she ain't a +bit sickly." + +"She eats heartier than you do; but that don't mean nothing," said Mr. +Ramy. + +Ann Eliza was silent. She could not follow the trend of his thought, and +she did not care to commit herself farther about Evelina before she +had ascertained if Mr. Ramy considered nervousness interesting or the +reverse. + +But Mr. Ramy spared her all farther indecision. + +"Well, Miss Bunner," he said, drawing his stool closer to the counter, +"I guess I might as well tell you fust as last what I come here for +to-day. I want to get married." + +Ann Eliza, in many a prayerful midnight hour, had sought to strengthen +herself for the hearing of this avowal, but now that it had come she +felt pitifully frightened and unprepared. Mr. Ramy was leaning with both +elbows on the counter, and she noticed that his nails were clean and +that he had brushed his hat; yet even these signs had not prepared her! + +At last she heard herself say, with a dry throat in which her heart was +hammering: "Mercy me, Mr. Ramy!" + +"I want to get married," he repeated. "I'm too lonesome. It ain't good +for a man to live all alone, and eat noding but cold meat every day." + +"No," said Ann Eliza softly. + +"And the dust fairly beats me." + +"Oh, the dust--I know!" + +Mr. Ramy stretched one of his blunt-fingered hands toward her. "I wisht +you'd take me." + +Still Ann Eliza did not understand. She rose hesitatingly from her seat, +pushing aside the basket of buttons which lay between them; then she +perceived that Mr. Ramy was trying to take her hand, and as their +fingers met a flood of joy swept over her. Never afterward, though +every other word of their interview was stamped on her memory beyond +all possible forgetting, could she recall what he said while their hands +touched; she only knew that she seemed to be floating on a summer sea, +and that all its waves were in her ears. + +"Me--me?" she gasped. + +"I guess so," said her suitor placidly. "You suit me right down to the +ground, Miss Bunner. Dat's the truth." + +A woman passing along the street paused to look at the shop-window, and +Ann Eliza half hoped she would come in; but after a desultory inspection +she went on. + +"Maybe you don't fancy me?" Mr. Ramy suggested, discountenanced by Ann +Eliza's silence. + +A word of assent was on her tongue, but her lips refused it. She must +find some other way of telling him. + +"I don't say that." + +"Well, I always kinder thought we was suited to one another," Mr. +Ramy continued, eased of his momentary doubt. "I always liked de quiet +style--no fuss and airs, and not afraid of work." He spoke as though +dispassionately cataloguing her charms. + +Ann Eliza felt that she must make an end. "But, Mr. Ramy, you don't +understand. I've never thought of marrying." + +Mr. Ramy looked at her in surprise. "Why not?" + +"Well, I don't know, har'ly." She moistened her twitching lips. "The +fact is, I ain't as active as I look. Maybe I couldn't stand the care. +I ain't as spry as Evelina--nor as young," she added, with a last great +effort. + +"But you do most of de work here, anyways," said her suitor doubtfully. + +"Oh, well, that's because Evelina's busy outside; and where there's only +two women the work don't amount to much. Besides, I'm the oldest; I have +to look after things," she hastened on, half pained that her simple ruse +should so readily deceive him. + +"Well, I guess you're active enough for me," he persisted. His calm +determination began to frighten her; she trembled lest her own should be +less staunch. + +"No, no," she repeated, feeling the tears on her lashes. "I couldn't, +Mr. Ramy, I couldn't marry. I'm so surprised. I always thought it +was Evelina--always. And so did everybody else. She's so bright and +pretty--it seemed so natural." + +"Well, you was all mistaken," said Mr. Ramy obstinately. + +"I'm so sorry." + +He rose, pushing back his chair. + +"You'd better think it over," he said, in the large tone of a man who +feels he may safely wait. + +"Oh, no, no. It ain't any sorter use, Mr. Ramy. I don't never mean to +marry. I get tired so easily--I'd be afraid of the work. And I have +such awful headaches." She paused, racking her brain for more convincing +infirmities. + +"Headaches, do you?" said Mr. Ramy, turning back. + +"My, yes, awful ones, that I have to give right up to. Evelina has to do +everything when I have one of them headaches. She has to bring me my tea +in the mornings." + +"Well, I'm sorry to hear it," said Mr. Ramy. + +"Thank you kindly all the same," Ann Eliza murmured. "And please +don't--don't--" She stopped suddenly, looking at him through her tears. + +"Oh, that's all right," he answered. "Don't you fret, Miss Gunner. +Folks have got to suit themselves." She thought his tone had grown more +resigned since she had spoken of her headaches. + +For some moments he stood looking at her with a hesitating eye, as +though uncertain how to end their conversation; and at length she found +courage to say (in the words of a novel she had once read): "I don't +want this should make any difference between us." + +"Oh, my, no," said Mr. Ramy, absently picking up his hat. + +"You'll come in just the same?" she continued, nerving herself to +the effort. "We'd miss you awfully if you didn't. Evelina, she--" She +paused, torn between her desire to turn his thoughts to Evelina, and the +dread of prematurely disclosing her sister's secret. + +"Don't Miss Evelina have no headaches?" Mr. Ramy suddenly asked. + +"My, no, never--well, not to speak of, anyway. She ain't had one for +ages, and when Evelina IS sick she won't never give in to it," Ann Eliza +declared, making some hurried adjustments with her conscience. + +"I wouldn't have thought that," said Mr. Ramy. + +"I guess you don't know us as well as you thought you did." + +"Well, no, that's so; maybe I don't. I'll wish you good day, Miss +Bunner"; and Mr. Ramy moved toward the door. + +"Good day, Mr. Ramy," Ann Eliza answered. + +She felt unutterably thankful to be alone. She knew the crucial moment +of her life had passed, and she was glad that she had not fallen below +her own ideals. It had been a wonderful experience; and in spite of +the tears on her cheeks she was not sorry to have known it. Two facts, +however, took the edge from its perfection: that it had happened in the +shop, and that she had not had on her black silk. + +She passed the next hour in a state of dreamy ecstasy. Something had +entered into her life of which no subsequent empoverishment could rob +it: she glowed with the same rich sense of possessorship that once, as +a little girl, she had felt when her mother had given her a gold locket +and she had sat up in bed in the dark to draw it from its hiding-place +beneath her night-gown. + +At length a dread of Evelina's return began to mingle with these +musings. How could she meet her younger sister's eye without betraying +what had happened? She felt as though a visible glory lay on her, and +she was glad that dusk had fallen when Evelina entered. But her fears +were superfluous. Evelina, always self-absorbed, had of late lost all +interest in the simple happenings of the shop, and Ann Eliza, with +mingled mortification and relief, perceived that she was in no danger of +being cross-questioned as to the events of the afternoon. She was +glad of this; yet there was a touch of humiliation in finding that the +portentous secret in her bosom did not visibly shine forth. It struck +her as dull, and even slightly absurd, of Evelina not to know at last +that they were equals. + + + + +PART II + + + + +VIII + +Mr. Ramy, after a decent interval, returned to the shop; and Ann Eliza, +when they met, was unable to detect whether the emotions which seethed +under her black alpaca found an echo in his bosom. Outwardly he made no +sign. He lit his pipe as placidly as ever and seemed to relapse without +effort into the unruffled intimacy of old. Yet to Ann Eliza's initiated +eye a change became gradually perceptible. She saw that he was beginning +to look at her sister as he had looked at her on that momentous +afternoon: she even discerned a secret significance in the turn of his +talk with Evelina. Once he asked her abruptly if she should like +to travel, and Ann Eliza saw that the flush on Evelina's cheek was +reflected from the same fire which had scorched her own. + +So they drifted on through the sultry weeks of July. At that season the +business of the little shop almost ceased, and one Saturday morning Mr. +Ramy proposed that the sisters should lock up early and go with him for +a sail down the bay in one of the Coney Island boats. + +Ann Eliza saw the light in Evelina's eye and her resolve was instantly +taken. + +"I guess I won't go, thank you kindly; but I'm sure my sister will be +happy to." + +She was pained by the perfunctory phrase with which Evelina urged her to +accompany them; and still more by Mr. Ramy's silence. + +"No, I guess I won't go," she repeated, rather in answer to herself than +to them. "It's dreadfully hot and I've got a kinder headache." + +"Oh, well, I wouldn't then," said her sister hurriedly. "You'd better +jest set here quietly and rest." + +"Yes, I'll rest," Ann Eliza assented. + +At two o'clock Mr. Ramy returned, and a moment later he and Evelina left +the shop. Evelina had made herself another new bonnet for the occasion, +a bonnet, Ann Eliza thought, almost too youthful in shape and colour. +It was the first time it had ever occurred to her to criticize Evelina's +taste, and she was frightened at the insidious change in her attitude +toward her sister. + +When Ann Eliza, in later days, looked back on that afternoon she felt +that there had been something prophetic in the quality of its solitude; +it seemed to distill the triple essence of loneliness in which all her +after-life was to be lived. No purchasers came; not a hand fell on +the door-latch; and the tick of the clock in the back room ironically +emphasized the passing of the empty hours. + +Evelina returned late and alone. Ann Eliza felt the coming crisis in the +sound of her footstep, which wavered along as if not knowing on what it +trod. The elder sister's affection had so passionately projected itself +into her junior's fate that at such moments she seemed to be living +two lives, her own and Evelina's; and her private longings shrank into +silence at the sight of the other's hungry bliss. But it was evident +that Evelina, never acutely alive to the emotional atmosphere about her, +had no idea that her secret was suspected; and with an assumption of +unconcern that would have made Ann Eliza smile if the pang had been less +piercing, the younger sister prepared to confess herself. + +"What are you so busy about?" she said impatiently, as Ann Eliza, +beneath the gas-jet, fumbled for the matches. "Ain't you even got time +to ask me if I'd had a pleasant day?" + +Ann Eliza turned with a quiet smile. "I guess I don't have to. Seems to +me it's pretty plain you have." + +"Well, I don't know. I don't know HOW I feel--it's all so queer. I +almost think I'd like to scream." + +"I guess you're tired." + +"No, I ain't. It's not that. But it all happened so suddenly, and the +boat was so crowded I thought everybody'd hear what he was saying.--Ann +Eliza," she broke out, "why on earth don't you ask me what I'm talking +about?" + +Ann Eliza, with a last effort of heroism, feigned a fond +incomprehension. + +"What ARE you?" + +"Why, I'm engaged to be married--so there! Now it's out! And it happened +right on the boat; only to think of it! Of course I wasn't exactly +surprised--I've known right along he was going to sooner or later--on'y +somehow I didn't think of its happening to-day. I thought he'd never get +up his courage. He said he was so 'fraid I'd say no--that's what kep' +him so long from asking me. Well, I ain't said yes YET--leastways I told +him I'd have to think it over; but I guess he knows. Oh, Ann Eliza, I'm +so happy!" She hid the blinding brightness of her face. + +Ann Eliza, just then, would only let herself feel that she was glad. She +drew down Evelina's hands and kissed her, and they held each other. When +Evelina regained her voice she had a tale to tell which carried their +vigil far into the night. Not a syllable, not a glance or gesture of +Ramy's, was the elder sister spared; and with unconscious irony she +found herself comparing the details of his proposal to her with those +which Evelina was imparting with merciless prolixity. + +The next few days were taken up with the embarrassed adjustment of their +new relation to Mr. Ramy and to each other. Ann Eliza's ardour carried +her to new heights of self-effacement, and she invented late duties in +the shop in order to leave Evelina and her suitor longer alone in the +back room. Later on, when she tried to remember the details of those +first days, few came back to her: she knew only that she got up each +morning with the sense of having to push the leaden hours up the same +long steep of pain. + +Mr. Ramy came daily now. Every evening he and his betrothed went out +for a stroll around the Square, and when Evelina came in her cheeks were +always pink. "He's kissed her under that tree at the corner, away from +the lamp-post," Ann Eliza said to herself, with sudden insight into +unconjectured things. On Sundays they usually went for the whole +afternoon to the Central Park, and Ann Eliza, from her seat in the +mortal hush of the back room, followed step by step their long slow +beatific walk. + +There had been, as yet, no allusion to their marriage, except that +Evelina had once told her sister that Mr. Ramy wished them to invite +Mrs. Hochmuller and Linda to the wedding. The mention of the laundress +raised a half-forgotten fear in Ann Eliza, and she said in a tone of +tentative appeal: "I guess if I was you I wouldn't want to be very great +friends with Mrs. Hochmuller." + +Evelina glanced at her compassionately. "I guess if you was me you'd +want to do everything you could to please the man you loved. It's +lucky," she added with glacial irony, "that I'm not too grand for +Herman's friends." + +"Oh," Ann Eliza protested, "that ain't what I mean--and you know it +ain't. Only somehow the day we saw her I didn't think she seemed like +the kinder person you'd want for a friend." + +"I guess a married woman's the best judge of such matters," Evelina +replied, as though she already walked in the light of her future state. + +Ann Eliza, after that, kept her own counsel. She saw that Evelina wanted +her sympathy as little as her admonitions, and that already she counted +for nothing in her sister's scheme of life. To Ann Eliza's idolatrous +acceptance of the cruelties of fate this exclusion seemed both natural +and just; but it caused her the most lively pain. She could not divest +her love for Evelina of its passionate motherliness; no breath of reason +could lower it to the cool temperature of sisterly affection. + +She was then passing, as she thought, through the novitiate of her pain; +preparing, in a hundred experimental ways, for the solitude awaiting her +when Evelina left. It was true that it would be a tempered loneliness. +They would not be far apart. Evelina would "run in" daily from the +clock-maker's; they would doubtless take supper with her on Sundays. But +already Ann Eliza guessed with what growing perfunctoriness her sister +would fulfill these obligations; she even foresaw the day when, to get +news of Evelina, she should have to lock the shop at nightfall and go +herself to Mr. Ramy's door. But on that contingency she would not dwell. +"They can come to me when they want to--they'll always find me here," +she simply said to herself. + +One evening Evelina came in flushed and agitated from her stroll around +the Square. Ann Eliza saw at once that something had happened; but the +new habit of reticence checked her question. + +She had not long to wait. "Oh, Ann Eliza, on'y to think what he says--" +(the pronoun stood exclusively for Mr. Ramy). "I declare I'm so upset I +thought the people in the Square would notice me. Don't I look queer? He +wants to get married right off--this very next week." + +"Next week?" + +"Yes. So's we can move out to St. Louis right away." + +"Him and you--move out to St. Louis?" + +"Well, I don't know as it would be natural for him to want to go out +there without me," Evelina simpered. "But it's all so sudden I don't +know what to think. He only got the letter this morning. DO I look +queer, Ann Eliza?" Her eye was roving for the mirror. + +"No, you don't," said Ann Eliza almost harshly. + +"Well, it's a mercy," Evelina pursued with a tinge of disappointment. +"It's a regular miracle I didn't faint right out there in the Square. +Herman's so thoughtless--he just put the letter into my hand without a +word. It's from a big firm out there--the Tiff'ny of St. Louis, he says +it is--offering him a place in their clock-department. Seems they heard +of him through a German friend of his that's settled out there. It's a +splendid opening, and if he gives satisfaction they'll raise him at the +end of the year." + +She paused, flushed with the importance of the situation, which seemed +to lift her once for all above the dull level of her former life. + +"Then you'll have to go?" came at last from Ann Eliza. + +Evelina stared. "You wouldn't have me interfere with his prospects, +would you?" + +"No--no. I on'y meant--has it got to be so soon?" + +"Right away, I tell you--next week. Ain't it awful?" blushed the bride. + +Well, this was what happened to mothers. They bore it, Ann Eliza mused; +so why not she? Ah, but they had their own chance first; she had had no +chance at all. And now this life which she had made her own was going +from her forever; had gone, already, in the inner and deeper sense, and +was soon to vanish in even its outward nearness, its surface-communion +of voice and eye. At that moment even the thought of Evelina's happiness +refused her its consolatory ray; or its light, if she saw it, was too +remote to warm her. The thirst for a personal and inalienable tie, for +pangs and problems of her own, was parching Ann Eliza's soul: it seemed +to her that she could never again gather strength to look her loneliness +in the face. + +The trivial obligations of the moment came to her aid. Nursed in +idleness her grief would have mastered her; but the needs of the shop +and the back room, and the preparations for Evelina's marriage, kept the +tyrant under. + +Miss Mellins, true to her anticipations, had been called on to aid in +the making of the wedding dress, and she and Ann Eliza were bending one +evening over the breadths of pearl-grey cashmere which in spite of the +dress-maker's prophetic vision of gored satin, had been judged most +suitable, when Evelina came into the room alone. + +Ann Eliza had already had occasion to notice that it was a bad sign when +Mr. Ramy left his affianced at the door. It generally meant that Evelina +had something disturbing to communicate, and Ann Eliza's first glance +told her that this time the news was grave. + +Miss Mellins, who sat with her back to the door and her head bent over +her sewing, started as Evelina came around to the opposite side of the +table. + +"Mercy, Miss Evelina! I declare I thought you was a ghost, the way you +crep' in. I had a customer once up in Forty-ninth Street--a lovely young +woman with a thirty-six bust and a waist you could ha' put into her +wedding ring--and her husband, he crep' up behind her that way jest for +a joke, and frightened her into a fit, and when she come to she was a +raving maniac, and had to be taken to Bloomingdale with two doctors and +a nurse to hold her in the carriage, and a lovely baby on'y six weeks +old--and there she is to this day, poor creature." + +"I didn't mean to startle you," said Evelina. + +She sat down on the nearest chair, and as the lamp-light fell on her +face Ann Eliza saw that she had been crying. + +"You do look dead-beat," Miss Mellins resumed, after a pause of +soul-probing scrutiny. "I guess Mr. Ramy lugs you round that Square too +often. You'll walk your legs off if you ain't careful. Men don't never +consider--they're all alike. Why, I had a cousin once that was engaged +to a book-agent--" + +"Maybe we'd better put away the work for to-night, Miss Mellins," Ann +Eliza interposed. "I guess what Evelina wants is a good night's rest." + +"That's so," assented the dress-maker. "Have you got the back breadths +run together, Miss Bunner? Here's the sleeves. I'll pin 'em together." +She drew a cluster of pins from her mouth, in which she seemed to +secrete them as squirrels stow away nuts. "There," she said, rolling up +her work, "you go right away to bed, Miss Evelina, and we'll set up a +little later to-morrow night. I guess you're a mite nervous, ain't you? +I know when my turn comes I'll be scared to death." + +With this arch forecast she withdrew, and Ann Eliza, returning to the +back room, found Evelina still listlessly seated by the table. True to +her new policy of silence, the elder sister set about folding up the +bridal dress; but suddenly Evelina said in a harsh unnatural voice: +"There ain't any use in going on with that." + +The folds slipped from Ann Eliza's hands. + +"Evelina Bunner--what you mean?" + +"Jest what I say. It's put off." + +"Put off--what's put off?" + +"Our getting married. He can't take me to St. Louis. He ain't got money +enough." She brought the words out in the monotonous tone of a child +reciting a lesson. + +Ann Eliza picked up another breadth of cashmere and began to smooth it +out. "I don't understand," she said at length. + +"Well, it's plain enough. The journey's fearfully expensive, and we've +got to have something left to start with when we get out there. We've +counted up, and he ain't got the money to do it--that's all." + +"But I thought he was going right into a splendid place." + +"So he is; but the salary's pretty low the first year, and board's very +high in St. Louis. He's jest got another letter from his German friend, +and he's been figuring it out, and he's afraid to chance it. He'll have +to go alone." + +"But there's your money--have you forgotten that? The hundred dollars in +the bank." + +Evelina made an impatient movement. "Of course I ain't forgotten it. +On'y it ain't enough. It would all have to go into buying furniture, +and if he was took sick and lost his place again we wouldn't have a cent +left. He says he's got to lay by another hundred dollars before he'll be +willing to take me out there." + +For a while Ann Eliza pondered this surprising statement; then she +ventured: "Seems to me he might have thought of it before." + +In an instant Evelina was aflame. "I guess he knows what's right as well +as you or me. I'd sooner die than be a burden to him." + +Ann Eliza made no answer. The clutch of an unformulated doubt had +checked the words on her lips. She had meant, on the day of her sister's +marriage, to give Evelina the other half of their common savings; but +something warned her not to say so now. + +The sisters undressed without farther words. After they had gone to bed, +and the light had been put out, the sound of Evelina's weeping came to +Ann Eliza in the darkness, but she lay motionless on her own side of the +bed, out of contact with her sister's shaken body. Never had she felt so +coldly remote from Evelina. + +The hours of the night moved slowly, ticked off with wearisome +insistence by the clock which had played so prominent a part in their +lives. Evelina's sobs still stirred the bed at gradually lengthening +intervals, till at length Ann Eliza thought she slept. But with the dawn +the eyes of the sisters met, and Ann Eliza's courage failed her as she +looked in Evelina's face. + +She sat up in bed and put out a pleading hand. + +"Don't cry so, dearie. Don't." + +"Oh, I can't bear it, I can't bear it," Evelina moaned. + +Ann Eliza stroked her quivering shoulder. "Don't, don't," she repeated. +"If you take the other hundred, won't that be enough? I always meant to +give it to you. On'y I didn't want to tell you till your wedding day." + + + + +IX + + +Evelina's marriage took place on the appointed day. It was celebrated +in the evening, in the chantry of the church which the sisters attended, +and after it was over the few guests who had been present repaired to +the Bunner Sisters' basement, where a wedding supper awaited them. Ann +Eliza, aided by Miss Mellins and Mrs. Hawkins, and consciously supported +by the sentimental interest of the whole street, had expended her utmost +energy on the decoration of the shop and the back room. On the table a +vase of white chrysanthemums stood between a dish of oranges and bananas +and an iced wedding-cake wreathed with orange-blossoms of the bride's +own making. Autumn leaves studded with paper roses festooned the +what-not and the chromo of the Rock of Ages, and a wreath of yellow +immortelles was twined about the clock which Evelina revered as the +mysterious agent of her happiness. + +At the table sat Miss Mellins, profusely spangled and bangled, her head +sewing-girl, a pale young thing who had helped with Evelina's outfit, +Mr. and Mrs. Hawkins, with Johnny, their eldest boy, and Mrs. Hochmuller +and her daughter. + +Mrs. Hochmuller's large blonde personality seemed to pervade the room +to the effacement of the less amply-proportioned guests. It was rendered +more impressive by a dress of crimson poplin that stood out from her in +organ-like folds; and Linda, whom Ann Eliza had remembered as an +uncouth child with a sly look about the eyes, surprised her by a sudden +blossoming into feminine grace such as sometimes follows on a gawky +girlhood. The Hochmullers, in fact, struck the dominant note in the +entertainment. Beside them Evelina, unusually pale in her grey cashmere +and white bonnet, looked like a faintly washed sketch beside a brilliant +chromo; and Mr. Ramy, doomed to the traditional insignificance of the +bridegroom's part, made no attempt to rise above his situation. +Even Miss Mellins sparkled and jingled in vain in the shadow of +Mrs. Hochmuller's crimson bulk; and Ann Eliza, with a sense of vague +foreboding, saw that the wedding feast centred about the two guests she +had most wished to exclude from it. What was said or done while they +all sat about the table she never afterward recalled: the long hours +remained in her memory as a whirl of high colours and loud voices, from +which the pale presence of Evelina now and then emerged like a drowned +face on a sunset-dabbled sea. + +The next morning Mr. Ramy and his wife started for St. Louis, and Ann +Eliza was left alone. Outwardly the first strain of parting was tempered +by the arrival of Miss Mellins, Mrs. Hawkins and Johnny, who dropped in +to help in the ungarlanding and tidying up of the back room. Ann Eliza +was duly grateful for their kindness, but the "talking over" on which +they had evidently counted was Dead Sea fruit on her lips; and just +beyond the familiar warmth of their presences she saw the form of +Solitude at her door. + +Ann Eliza was but a small person to harbour so great a guest, and a +trembling sense of insufficiency possessed her. She had no high musings +to offer to the new companion of her hearth. Every one of her thoughts +had hitherto turned to Evelina and shaped itself in homely easy words; +of the mighty speech of silence she knew not the earliest syllable. + +Everything in the back room and the shop, on the second day after +Evelina's going, seemed to have grown coldly unfamiliar. The whole +aspect of the place had changed with the changed conditions of Ann +Eliza's life. The first customer who opened the shop-door startled her +like a ghost; and all night she lay tossing on her side of the bed, +sinking now and then into an uncertain doze from which she would +suddenly wake to reach out her hand for Evelina. In the new silence +surrounding her the walls and furniture found voice, frightening her +at dusk and midnight with strange sighs and stealthy whispers. Ghostly +hands shook the window shutters or rattled at the outer latch, and once +she grew cold at the sound of a step like Evelina's stealing through the +dark shop to die out on the threshold. In time, of course, she found +an explanation for these noises, telling herself that the bedstead was +warping, that Miss Mellins trod heavily overhead, or that the thunder of +passing beer-waggons shook the door-latch; but the hours leading up to +these conclusions were full of the floating terrors that harden into +fixed foreboding. Worst of all were the solitary meals, when she +absently continued to set aside the largest slice of pie for Evelina, +and to let the tea grow cold while she waited for her sister to help +herself to the first cup. Miss Mellins, coming in on one of these sad +repasts, suggested the acquisition of a cat; but Ann Eliza shook +her head. She had never been used to animals, and she felt the vague +shrinking of the pious from creatures divided from her by the abyss of +soullessness. + +At length, after ten empty days, Evelina's first letter came. + +"My dear Sister," she wrote, in her pinched Spencerian hand, "it seems +strange to be in this great City so far from home alone with him I have +chosen for life, but marriage has its solemn duties which those who are +not can never hope to understand, and happier perhaps for this reason, +life for them has only simple tasks and pleasures, but those who must +take thought for others must be prepared to do their duty in whatever +station it has pleased the Almighty to call them. Not that I have cause +to complain, my dear Husband is all love and devotion, but being absent +all day at his business how can I help but feel lonesome at times, as +the poet says it is hard for they that love to live apart, and I often +wonder, my dear Sister, how you are getting along alone in the store, +may you never experience the feelings of solitude I have underwent since +I came here. We are boarding now, but soon expect to find rooms and +change our place of Residence, then I shall have all the care of a +household to bear, but such is the fate of those who join their Lot with +others, they cannot hope to escape from the burdens of Life, nor would +I ask it, I would not live alway but while I live would always pray for +strength to do my duty. This city is not near as large or handsome as +New York, but had my lot been cast in a Wilderness I hope I should +not repine, such never was my nature, and they who exchange their +independence for the sweet name of Wife must be prepared to find all is +not gold that glitters, nor I would not expect like you to drift down +the stream of Life unfettered and serene as a Summer cloud, such is +not my fate, but come what may will always find in me a resigned and +prayerful Spirit, and hoping this finds you as well as it leaves me, I +remain, my dear Sister, + +"Yours truly, + +"EVELINA B. RAMY." + + +Ann Eliza had always secretly admired the oratorical and impersonal tone +of Evelina's letters; but the few she had previously read, having been +addressed to school-mates or distant relatives, had appeared in the +light of literary compositions rather than as records of personal +experience. Now she could not but wish that Evelina had laid aside her +swelling periods for a style more suited to the chronicling of homely +incidents. She read the letter again and again, seeking for a clue to +what her sister was really doing and thinking; but after each reading +she emerged impressed but unenlightened from the labyrinth of Evelina's +eloquence. + +During the early winter she received two or three more letters of the +same kind, each enclosing in its loose husk of rhetoric a smaller kernel +of fact. By dint of patient interlinear study, Ann Eliza gathered from +them that Evelina and her husband, after various costly experiments in +boarding, had been reduced to a tenement-house flat; that living in St. +Louis was more expensive than they had supposed, and that Mr. Ramy was +kept out late at night (why, at a jeweller's, Ann Eliza wondered?) and +found his position less satisfactory than he had been led to expect. +Toward February the letters fell off; and finally they ceased to come. + +At first Ann Eliza wrote, shyly but persistently, entreating for more +frequent news; then, as one appeal after another was swallowed up in the +mystery of Evelina's protracted silence, vague fears began to assail the +elder sister. Perhaps Evelina was ill, and with no one to nurse her but +a man who could not even make himself a cup of tea! Ann Eliza recalled +the layer of dust in Mr. Ramy's shop, and pictures of domestic disorder +mingled with the more poignant vision of her sister's illness. But +surely if Evelina were ill Mr. Ramy would have written. He wrote a +small neat hand, and epistolary communication was not an insuperable +embarrassment to him. The too probable alternative was that both +the unhappy pair had been prostrated by some disease which left them +powerless to summon her--for summon her they surely would, Ann Eliza +with unconscious cynicism reflected, if she or her small economies could +be of use to them! The more she strained her eyes into the mystery, the +darker it grew; and her lack of initiative, her inability to imagine +what steps might be taken to trace the lost in distant places, left her +benumbed and helpless. + +At last there floated up from some depth of troubled memory the name +of the firm of St. Louis jewellers by whom Mr. Ramy was employed. After +much hesitation, and considerable effort, she addressed to them a timid +request for news of her brother-in-law; and sooner than she could have +hoped the answer reached her. + +"DEAR MADAM, + +"In reply to yours of the 29th ult. we beg to state the party you refer +to was discharged from our employ a month ago. We are sorry we are +unable to furnish you wish his address. + +"Yours Respectfully, + +"LUDWIG AND HAMMERBUSCH." + + +Ann Eliza read and re-read the curt statement in a stupor of distress. +She had lost her last trace of Evelina. All that night she lay awake, +revolving the stupendous project of going to St. Louis in search of her +sister; but though she pieced together her few financial possibilities +with the ingenuity of a brain used to fitting odd scraps into patch-work +quilts, she woke to the cold daylight fact that she could not raise the +money for her fare. Her wedding gift to Evelina had left her without any +resources beyond her daily earnings, and these had steadily dwindled as +the winter passed. She had long since renounced her weekly visit to the +butcher, and had reduced her other expenses to the narrowest measure; +but the most systematic frugality had not enabled her to put by any +money. In spite of her dogged efforts to maintain the prosperity of the +little shop, her sister's absence had already told on its business. +Now that Ann Eliza had to carry the bundles to the dyer's herself, the +customers who called in her absence, finding the shop locked, too often +went elsewhere. Moreover, after several stern but unavailing efforts, +she had had to give up the trimming of bonnets, which in Evelina's hands +had been the most lucrative as well as the most interesting part of the +business. This change, to the passing female eye, robbed the shop window +of its chief attraction; and when painful experience had convinced the +regular customers of the Bunner Sisters of Ann Eliza's lack of millinery +skill they began to lose faith in her ability to curl a feather or even +"freshen up" a bunch of flowers. The time came when Ann Eliza had almost +made up her mind to speak to the lady with puffed sleeves, who had +always looked at her so kindly, and had once ordered a hat of Evelina. +Perhaps the lady with puffed sleeves would be able to get her a little +plain sewing to do; or she might recommend the shop to friends. Ann +Eliza, with this possibility in view, rummaged out of a drawer the +fly-blown remainder of the business cards which the sisters had ordered +in the first flush of their commercial adventure; but when the lady with +puffed sleeves finally appeared she was in deep mourning, and wore +so sad a look that Ann Eliza dared not speak. She came in to buy some +spools of black thread and silk, and in the doorway she turned back to +say: "I am going away to-morrow for a long time. I hope you will have a +pleasant winter." And the door shut on her. + +One day not long after this it occurred to Ann Eliza to go to Hoboken in +quest of Mrs. Hochmuller. Much as she shrank from pouring her distress +into that particular ear, her anxiety had carried her beyond such +reluctance; but when she began to think the matter over she was faced by +a new difficulty. On the occasion of her only visit to Mrs. Hochmuller, +she and Evelina had suffered themselves to be led there by Mr. Ramy; +and Ann Eliza now perceived that she did not even know the name of the +laundress's suburb, much less that of the street in which she lived. +But she must have news of Evelina, and no obstacle was great enough to +thwart her. + +Though she longed to turn to some one for advice she disliked to expose +her situation to Miss Mellins's searching eye, and at first she could +think of no other confidant. Then she remembered Mrs. Hawkins, or +rather her husband, who, though Ann Eliza had always thought him a +dull uneducated man, was probably gifted with the mysterious masculine +faculty of finding out people's addresses. It went hard with Ann Eliza +to trust her secret even to the mild ear of Mrs. Hawkins, but at least +she was spared the cross-examination to which the dress-maker would +have subjected her. The accumulating pressure of domestic cares had so +crushed in Mrs. Hawkins any curiosity concerning the affairs of others +that she received her visitor's confidence with an almost masculine +indifference, while she rocked her teething baby on one arm and with the +other tried to check the acrobatic impulses of the next in age. + +"My, my," she simply said as Ann Eliza ended. "Keep still now, Arthur: +Miss Bunner don't want you to jump up and down on her foot to-day. And +what are you gaping at, Johnny? Run right off and play," she added, +turning sternly to her eldest, who, because he was the least naughty, +usually bore the brunt of her wrath against the others. + +"Well, perhaps Mr. Hawkins can help you," Mrs. Hawkins continued +meditatively, while the children, after scattering at her bidding, +returned to their previous pursuits like flies settling down on the +spot from which an exasperated hand has swept them. "I'll send him right +round the minute he comes in, and you can tell him the whole story. I +wouldn't wonder but what he can find that Mrs. Hochmuller's address in +the d'rectory. I know they've got one where he works." + +"I'd be real thankful if he could," Ann Eliza murmured, rising from her +seat with the factitious sense of lightness that comes from imparting a +long-hidden dread. + + + + +X + + +Mr. Hawkins proved himself worthy of his wife's faith in his capacity. +He learned from Ann Eliza as much as she could tell him about Mrs. +Hochmuller and returned the next evening with a scrap of paper bearing +her address, beneath which Johnny (the family scribe) had written in a +large round hand the names of the streets that led there from the ferry. + +Ann Eliza lay awake all that night, repeating over and over again the +directions Mr. Hawkins had given her. He was a kind man, and she knew +he would willingly have gone with her to Hoboken; indeed she read in his +timid eye the half-formed intention of offering to accompany her--but on +such an errand she preferred to go alone. + +The next Sunday, accordingly, she set out early, and without much +trouble found her way to the ferry. Nearly a year had passed since her +previous visit to Mrs. Hochmuller, and a chilly April breeze smote her +face as she stepped on the boat. Most of the passengers were huddled +together in the cabin, and Ann Eliza shrank into its obscurest corner, +shivering under the thin black mantle which had seemed so hot in July. +She began to feel a little bewildered as she stepped ashore, but a +paternal policeman put her into the right car, and as in a dream she +found herself retracing the way to Mrs. Hochmuller's door. She had told +the conductor the name of the street at which she wished to get out, +and presently she stood in the biting wind at the corner near the +beer-saloon, where the sun had once beat down on her so fiercely. At +length an empty car appeared, its yellow flank emblazoned with the name +of Mrs. Hochmuller's suburb, and Ann Eliza was presently jolting past +the narrow brick houses islanded between vacant lots like giant piles in +a desolate lagoon. When the car reached the end of its journey she got +out and stood for some time trying to remember which turn Mr. Ramy had +taken. She had just made up her mind to ask the car-driver when he shook +the reins on the backs of his lean horses, and the car, still empty, +jogged away toward Hoboken. + +Ann Eliza, left alone by the roadside, began to move cautiously +forward, looking about for a small red house with a gable overhung by an +elm-tree; but everything about her seemed unfamiliar and forbidding. One +or two surly looking men slouched past with inquisitive glances, and she +could not make up her mind to stop and speak to them. + +At length a tow-headed boy came out of a swinging door suggestive of +illicit conviviality, and to him Ann Eliza ventured to confide +her difficulty. The offer of five cents fired him with an instant +willingness to lead her to Mrs. Hochmuller, and he was soon trotting +past the stone-cutter's yard with Ann Eliza in his wake. + +Another turn in the road brought them to the little red house, and +having rewarded her guide Ann Eliza unlatched the gate and walked up to +the door. Her heart was beating violently, and she had to lean against +the door-post to compose her twitching lips: she had not known till that +moment how much it was going to hurt her to speak of Evelina to Mrs. +Hochmuller. As her agitation subsided she began to notice how much the +appearance of the house had changed. It was not only that winter had +stripped the elm, and blackened the flower-borders: the house itself had +a debased and deserted air. The window-panes were cracked and dirty, and +one or two shutters swung dismally on loosened hinges. + +She rang several times before the door was opened. At length an Irish +woman with a shawl over her head and a baby in her arms appeared on the +threshold, and glancing past her into the narrow passage Ann Eliza saw +that Mrs. Hochmuller's neat abode had deteriorated as much within as +without. + +At the mention of the name the woman stared. "Mrs. who, did ye say?" + +"Mrs. Hochmuller. This is surely her house?" + +"No, it ain't neither," said the woman turning away. + +"Oh, but wait, please," Ann Eliza entreated. "I can't be mistaken. I +mean the Mrs. Hochmuller who takes in washing. I came out to see her +last June." + +"Oh, the Dutch washerwoman is it--her that used to live here? She's been +gone two months and more. It's Mike McNulty lives here now. Whisht!" to +the baby, who had squared his mouth for a howl. + +Ann Eliza's knees grew weak. "Mrs. Hochmuller gone? But where has she +gone? She must be somewhere round here. Can't you tell me?" + +"Sure an' I can't," said the woman. "She wint away before iver we come." + +"Dalia Geoghegan, will ye bring the choild in out av the cowld?" cried +an irate voice from within. + +"Please wait--oh, please wait," Ann Eliza insisted. "You see I must find +Mrs. Hochmuller." + +"Why don't ye go and look for her thin?" the woman returned, slamming +the door in her face. + +She stood motionless on the door-step, dazed by the immensity of her +disappointment, till a burst of loud voices inside the house drove her +down the path and out of the gate. + +Even then she could not grasp what had happened, and pausing in the road +she looked back at the house, half hoping that Mrs. Hochmuller's once +detested face might appear at one of the grimy windows. + +She was roused by an icy wind that seemed to spring up suddenly from the +desolate scene, piercing her thin dress like gauze; and turning away she +began to retrace her steps. She thought of enquiring for Mrs. Hochmuller +at some of the neighbouring houses, but their look was so unfriendly +that she walked on without making up her mind at which door to ring. +When she reached the horse-car terminus a car was just moving off toward +Hoboken, and for nearly an hour she had to wait on the corner in the +bitter wind. Her hands and feet were stiff with cold when the car at +length loomed into sight again, and she thought of stopping somewhere +on the way to the ferry for a cup of tea; but before the region of +lunch-rooms was reached she had grown so sick and dizzy that the thought +of food was repulsive. At length she found herself on the ferry-boat, in +the soothing stuffiness of the crowded cabin; then came another interval +of shivering on a street-corner, another long jolting journey in a +"cross-town" car that smelt of damp straw and tobacco; and lastly, in +the cold spring dusk, she unlocked her door and groped her way through +the shop to her fireless bedroom. + +The next morning Mrs. Hawkins, dropping in to hear the result of the +trip, found Ann Eliza sitting behind the counter wrapped in an old +shawl. + +"Why, Miss Bunner, you're sick! You must have fever--your face is just +as red!" + +"It's nothing. I guess I caught cold yesterday on the ferry-boat," Ann +Eliza acknowledged. + +"And it's jest like a vault in here!" Mrs. Hawkins rebuked her. "Let me +feel your hand--it's burning. Now, Miss Bunner, you've got to go right +to bed this very minute." + +"Oh, but I can't, Mrs. Hawkins." Ann Eliza attempted a wan smile. "You +forget there ain't nobody but me to tend the store." + +"I guess you won't tend it long neither, if you ain't careful," Mrs. +Hawkins grimly rejoined. Beneath her placid exterior she cherished +a morbid passion for disease and death, and the sight of Ann Eliza's +suffering had roused her from her habitual indifference. "There ain't +so many folks comes to the store anyhow," she went on with unconscious +cruelty, "and I'll go right up and see if Miss Mellins can't spare one +of her girls." + +Ann Eliza, too weary to resist, allowed Mrs. Hawkins to put her to +bed and make a cup of tea over the stove, while Miss Mellins, always +good-naturedly responsive to any appeal for help, sent down the +weak-eyed little girl to deal with hypothetical customers. + +Ann Eliza, having so far abdicated her independence, sank into sudden +apathy. As far as she could remember, it was the first time in her life +that she had been taken care of instead of taking care, and there was +a momentary relief in the surrender. She swallowed the tea like an +obedient child, allowed a poultice to be applied to her aching chest and +uttered no protest when a fire was kindled in the rarely used grate; but +as Mrs. Hawkins bent over to "settle" her pillows she raised herself on +her elbow to whisper: "Oh, Mrs. Hawkins, Mrs. Hochmuller warn't there." +The tears rolled down her cheeks. + +"She warn't there? Has she moved?" + +"Over two months ago--and they don't know where she's gone. Oh what'll I +do, Mrs. Hawkins?" + +"There, there, Miss Bunner. You lay still and don't fret. I'll ask Mr. +Hawkins soon as ever he comes home." + +Ann Eliza murmured her gratitude, and Mrs. Hawkins, bending down, kissed +her on the forehead. "Don't you fret," she repeated, in the voice with +which she soothed her children. + +For over a week Ann Eliza lay in bed, faithfully nursed by her two +neighbours, while the weak-eyed child, and the pale sewing girl who +had helped to finish Evelina's wedding dress, took turns in minding the +shop. Every morning, when her friends appeared, Ann Eliza lifted her +head to ask: "Is there a letter?" and at their gentle negative sank back +in silence. Mrs. Hawkins, for several days, spoke no more of her promise +to consult her husband as to the best way of tracing Mrs. Hochmuller; +and dread of fresh disappointment kept Ann Eliza from bringing up the +subject. + +But the following Sunday evening, as she sat for the first time +bolstered up in her rocking-chair near the stove, while Miss Mellins +studied the Police Gazette beneath the lamp, there came a knock on the +shop-door and Mr. Hawkins entered. + +Ann Eliza's first glance at his plain friendly face showed her he had +news to give, but though she no longer attempted to hide her anxiety +from Miss Mellins, her lips trembled too much to let her speak. + +"Good evening, Miss Bunner," said Mr. Hawkins in his dragging voice. +"I've been over to Hoboken all day looking round for Mrs. Hochmuller." + +"Oh, Mr. Hawkins--you HAVE?" + +"I made a thorough search, but I'm sorry to say it was no use. She's +left Hoboken--moved clear away, and nobody seems to know where." + +"It was real good of you, Mr. Hawkins." Ann Eliza's voice struggled up +in a faint whisper through the submerging tide of her disappointment. + +Mr. Hawkins, in his embarrassed sense of being the bringer of bad news, +stood before her uncertainly; then he turned to go. "No trouble at all," +he paused to assure her from the doorway. + +She wanted to speak again, to detain him, to ask him to advise her; but +the words caught in her throat and she lay back silent. + +The next day she got up early, and dressed and bonneted herself with +twitching fingers. She waited till the weak-eyed child appeared, and +having laid on her minute instructions as to the care of the shop, she +slipped out into the street. It had occurred to her in one of the weary +watches of the previous night that she might go to Tiffany's and make +enquiries about Ramy's past. Possibly in that way she might obtain some +information that would suggest a new way of reaching Evelina. She was +guiltily aware that Mrs. Hawkins and Miss Mellins would be angry with +her for venturing out of doors, but she knew she should never feel any +better till she had news of Evelina. + +The morning air was sharp, and as she turned to face the wind she felt +so weak and unsteady that she wondered if she should ever get as far +as Union Square; but by walking very slowly, and standing still now and +then when she could do so without being noticed, she found herself at +last before the jeweller's great glass doors. + +It was still so early that there were no purchasers in the shop, and +she felt herself the centre of innumerable unemployed eyes as she moved +forward between long lines of show-cases glittering with diamonds and +silver. + +She was glancing about in the hope of finding the clock-department +without having to approach one of the impressive gentlemen who paced +the empty aisles, when she attracted the attention of one of the most +impressive of the number. + +The formidable benevolence with which he enquired what he could do +for her made her almost despair of explaining herself; but she finally +disentangled from a flurry of wrong beginnings the request to be shown +to the clock-department. + +The gentleman considered her thoughtfully. "May I ask what style of +clock you are looking for? Would it be for a wedding-present, or--?" + +The irony of the allusion filled Ann Eliza's veins with sudden strength. +"I don't want to buy a clock at all. I want to see the head of the +department." + +"Mr. Loomis?" His stare still weighed her--then he seemed to brush aside +the problem she presented as beneath his notice. "Oh, certainly. Take +the elevator to the second floor. Next aisle to the left." He waved her +down the endless perspective of show-cases. + +Ann Eliza followed the line of his lordly gesture, and a swift ascent +brought her to a great hall full of the buzzing and booming of thousands +of clocks. Whichever way she looked, clocks stretched away from her in +glittering interminable vistas: clocks of all sizes and voices, from the +bell-throated giant of the hallway to the chirping dressing-table toy; +tall clocks of mahogany and brass with cathedral chimes; clocks +of bronze, glass, porcelain, of every possible size, voice and +configuration; and between their serried ranks, along the polished +floor of the aisles, moved the languid forms of other gentlemanly +floor-walkers, waiting for their duties to begin. + +One of them soon approached, and Ann Eliza repeated her request. He +received it affably. + +"Mr. Loomis? Go right down to the office at the other end." He pointed +to a kind of box of ground glass and highly polished panelling. + +As she thanked him he turned to one of his companions and said something +in which she caught the name of Mr. Loomis, and which was received with +an appreciative chuckle. She suspected herself of being the object of +the pleasantry, and straightened her thin shoulders under her mantle. + +The door of the office stood open, and within sat a gray-bearded man at +a desk. He looked up kindly, and again she asked for Mr. Loomis. + +"I'm Mr. Loomis. What can I do for you?" + +He was much less portentous than the others, though she guessed him +to be above them in authority; and encouraged by his tone she seated +herself on the edge of the chair he waved her to. + +"I hope you'll excuse my troubling you, sir. I came to ask if you could +tell me anything about Mr. Herman Ramy. He was employed here in the +clock-department two or three years ago." + +Mr. Loomis showed no recognition of the name. + +"Ramy? When was he discharged?" + +"I don't har'ly know. He was very sick, and when he got well his place +had been filled. He married my sister last October and they went to St. +Louis, I ain't had any news of them for over two months, and she's my +only sister, and I'm most crazy worrying about her." + +"I see." Mr. Loomis reflected. "In what capacity was Ramy employed +here?" he asked after a moment. + +"He--he told us that he was one of the heads of the clock-department," +Ann Eliza stammered, overswept by a sudden doubt. + +"That was probably a slight exaggeration. But I can tell you about him +by referring to our books. The name again?" + +"Ramy--Herman Ramy." + +There ensued a long silence, broken only by the flutter of leaves as +Mr. Loomis turned over his ledgers. Presently he looked up, keeping his +finger between the pages. + +"Here it is--Herman Ramy. He was one of our ordinary workmen, and left +us three years and a half ago last June." + +"On account of sickness?" Ann Eliza faltered. + +Mr. Loomis appeared to hesitate; then he said: "I see no mention of +sickness." Ann Eliza felt his compassionate eyes on her again. "Perhaps +I'd better tell you the truth. He was discharged for drug-taking. A +capable workman, but we couldn't keep him straight. I'm sorry to have to +tell you this, but it seems fairer, since you say you're anxious about +your sister." + +The polished sides of the office vanished from Ann Eliza's sight, and +the cackle of the innumerable clocks came to her like the yell of waves +in a storm. She tried to speak but could not; tried to get to her feet, +but the floor was gone. + +"I'm very sorry," Mr. Loomis repeated, closing the ledger. "I remember +the man perfectly now. He used to disappear every now and then, and turn +up again in a state that made him useless for days." + +As she listened, Ann Eliza recalled the day when she had come on Mr. +Ramy sitting in abject dejection behind his counter. She saw again the +blurred unrecognizing eyes he had raised to her, the layer of dust +over everything in the shop, and the green bronze clock in the window +representing a Newfoundland dog with his paw on a book. She stood up +slowly. + +"Thank you. I'm sorry to have troubled you." + +"It was no trouble. You say Ramy married your sister last October?" + +"Yes, sir; and they went to St. Louis right afterward. I don't know how +to find her. I thought maybe somebody here might know about him." + +"Well, possibly some of the workmen might. Leave me your name and I'll +send you word if I get on his track." + +He handed her a pencil, and she wrote down her address; then she walked +away blindly between the clocks. + + + + +XI + + +Mr. Loomis, true to his word, wrote a few days later that he had +enquired in vain in the work-shop for any news of Ramy; and as she +folded this letter and laid it between the leaves of her Bible, Ann +Eliza felt that her last hope was gone. Miss Mellins, of course, had +long since suggested the mediation of the police, and cited from her +favourite literature convincing instances of the supernatural ability of +the Pinkerton detective; but Mr. Hawkins, when called in council, dashed +this project by remarking that detectives cost something like twenty +dollars a day; and a vague fear of the law, some half-formed vision of +Evelina in the clutch of a blue-coated "officer," kept Ann Eliza from +invoking the aid of the police. + +After the arrival of Mr. Loomis's note the weeks followed each other +uneventfully. Ann Eliza's cough clung to her till late in the spring, +the reflection in her looking-glass grew more bent and meagre, and her +forehead sloped back farther toward the twist of hair that was fastened +above her parting by a comb of black India-rubber. + +Toward spring a lady who was expecting a baby took up her abode at the +Mendoza Family Hotel, and through the friendly intervention of Miss +Mellins the making of some of the baby-clothes was entrusted to Ann +Eliza. This eased her of anxiety for the immediate future; but she had +to rouse herself to feel any sense of relief. Her personal welfare was +what least concerned her. Sometimes she thought of giving up the shop +altogether; and only the fear that, if she changed her address, Evelina +might not be able to find her, kept her from carrying out this plan. + +Since she had lost her last hope of tracing her sister, all the +activities of her lonely imagination had been concentrated on the +possibility of Evelina's coming back to her. The discovery of Ramy's +secret filled her with dreadful fears. In the solitude of the shop +and the back room she was tortured by vague pictures of Evelina's +sufferings. What horrors might not be hidden beneath her silence? Ann +Eliza's great dread was that Miss Mellins should worm out of her what +she had learned from Mr. Loomis. She was sure Miss Mellins must have +abominable things to tell about drug-fiends--things she did not have +the strength to hear. "Drug-fiend"--the very word was Satanic; she +could hear Miss Mellins roll it on her tongue. But Ann Eliza's own +imagination, left to itself, had begun to people the long hours with +evil visions. Sometimes, in the night, she thought she heard herself +called: the voice was her sister's, but faint with a nameless terror. +Her most peaceful moments were those in which she managed to convince +herself that Evelina was dead. She thought of her then, mournfully but +more calmly, as thrust away under the neglected mound of some unknown +cemetery, where no headstone marked her name, no mourner with flowers +for another grave paused in pity to lay a blossom on hers. But this +vision did not often give Ann Eliza its negative relief; and always, +beneath its hazy lines, lurked the dark conviction that Evelina was +alive, in misery and longing for her. + +So the summer wore on. Ann Eliza was conscious that Mrs. Hawkins and +Miss Mellins were watching her with affectionate anxiety, but the +knowledge brought no comfort. She no longer cared what they felt or +thought about her. Her grief lay far beyond touch of human healing, and +after a while she became aware that they knew they could not help her. +They still came in as often as their busy lives permitted, but their +visits grew shorter, and Mrs. Hawkins always brought Arthur or the baby, +so that there should be something to talk about, and some one whom she +could scold. + +The autumn came, and the winter. Business had fallen off again, and but +few purchasers came to the little shop in the basement. In January Ann +Eliza pawned her mother's cashmere scarf, her mosaic brooch, and the +rosewood what-not on which the clock had always stood; she would +have sold the bedstead too, but for the persistent vision of Evelina +returning weak and weary, and not knowing where to lay her head. + +The winter passed in its turn, and March reappeared with its galaxies of +yellow jonquils at the windy street corners, reminding Ann Eliza of the +spring day when Evelina had come home with a bunch of jonquils in her +hand. In spite of the flowers which lent such a premature brightness to +the streets the month was fierce and stormy, and Ann Eliza could get +no warmth into her bones. Nevertheless, she was insensibly beginning to +take up the healing routine of life. Little by little she had grown used +to being alone, she had begun to take a languid interest in the one or +two new purchasers the season had brought, and though the thought +of Evelina was as poignant as ever, it was less persistently in the +foreground of her mind. + +Late one afternoon she was sitting behind the counter, wrapped in her +shawl, and wondering how soon she might draw down the blinds and retreat +into the comparative cosiness of the back room. She was not thinking of +anything in particular, except perhaps in a hazy way of the lady with +the puffed sleeves, who after her long eclipse had reappeared the day +before in sleeves of a new cut, and bought some tape and needles. The +lady still wore mourning, but she was evidently lightening it, and Ann +Eliza saw in this the hope of future orders. The lady had left the shop +about an hour before, walking away with her graceful step toward Fifth +Avenue. She had wished Ann Eliza good day in her usual affable way, and +Ann Eliza thought how odd it was that they should have been acquainted +so long, and yet that she should not know the lady's name. From this +consideration her mind wandered to the cut of the lady's new sleeves, +and she was vexed with herself for not having noted it more carefully. +She felt Miss Mellins might have liked to know about it. Ann Eliza's +powers of observation had never been as keen as Evelina's, when the +latter was not too self-absorbed to exert them. As Miss Mellins always +said, Evelina could "take patterns with her eyes": she could have cut +that new sleeve out of a folded newspaper in a trice! Musing on these +things, Ann Eliza wished the lady would come back and give her another +look at the sleeve. It was not unlikely that she might pass that way, +for she certainly lived in or about the Square. Suddenly Ann Eliza +remarked a small neat handkerchief on the counter: it must have dropped +from the lady's purse, and she would probably come back to get it. Ann +Eliza, pleased at the idea, sat on behind the counter and watched the +darkening street. She always lit the gas as late as possible, keeping +the box of matches at her elbow, so that if any one came she could apply +a quick flame to the gas-jet. At length through the deepening dusk she +distinguished a slim dark figure coming down the steps to the shop. With +a little warmth of pleasure about her heart she reached up to light the +gas. "I do believe I'll ask her name this time," she thought. She raised +the flame to its full height, and saw her sister standing in the door. + +There she was at last, the poor pale shade of Evelina, her thin face +blanched of its faint pink, the stiff ripples gone from her hair, and a +mantle shabbier than Ann Eliza's drawn about her narrow shoulders. The +glare of the gas beat full on her as she stood and looked at Ann Eliza. + +"Sister--oh, Evelina! I knowed you'd come!" + +Ann Eliza had caught her close with a long moan of triumph. Vague +words poured from her as she laid her cheek against Evelina's--trivial +inarticulate endearments caught from Mrs. Hawkins's long discourses to +her baby. + +For a while Evelina let herself be passively held; then she drew back +from her sister's clasp and looked about the shop. "I'm dead tired. +Ain't there any fire?" she asked. + +"Of course there is!" Ann Eliza, holding her hand fast, drew her into +the back room. She did not want to ask any questions yet: she simply +wanted to feel the emptiness of the room brimmed full again by the one +presence that was warmth and light to her. + +She knelt down before the grate, scraped some bits of coal and kindling +from the bottom of the coal-scuttle, and drew one of the rocking-chairs +up to the weak flame. "There--that'll blaze up in a minute," she said. +She pressed Evelina down on the faded cushions of the rocking-chair, +and, kneeling beside her, began to rub her hands. + +"You're stone-cold, ain't you? Just sit still and warm yourself while I +run and get the kettle. I've got something you always used to fancy for +supper." She laid her hand on Evelina's shoulder. "Don't talk--oh, don't +talk yet!" she implored. She wanted to keep that one frail second of +happiness between herself and what she knew must come. + +Evelina, without a word, bent over the fire, stretching her thin hands +to the blaze and watching Ann Eliza fill the kettle and set the supper +table. Her gaze had the dreamy fixity of a half-awakened child's. + +Ann Eliza, with a smile of triumph, brought a slice of custard pie from +the cupboard and put it by her sister's plate. + +"You do like that, don't you? Miss Mellins sent it down to me this +morning. She had her aunt from Brooklyn to dinner. Ain't it funny it +just so happened?" + +"I ain't hungry," said Evelina, rising to approach the table. + +She sat down in her usual place, looked about her with the same +wondering stare, and then, as of old, poured herself out the first cup +of tea. + +"Where's the what-not gone to?" she suddenly asked. + +Ann Eliza set down the teapot and rose to get a spoon from the cupboard. +With her back to the room she said: "The what-not? Why, you see, dearie, +living here all alone by myself it only made one more thing to dust; so +I sold it." + +Evelina's eyes were still travelling about the familiar room. Though +it was against all the traditions of the Bunner family to sell any +household possession, she showed no surprise at her sister's answer. + +"And the clock? The clock's gone too." + +"Oh, I gave that away--I gave it to Mrs. Hawkins. She's kep' awake so +nights with that last baby." + +"I wish you'd never bought it," said Evelina harshly. + +Ann Eliza's heart grew faint with fear. Without answering, she crossed +over to her sister's seat and poured her out a second cup of tea. Then +another thought struck her, and she went back to the cupboard and took +out the cordial. In Evelina's absence considerable draughts had been +drawn from it by invalid neighbours; but a glassful of the precious +liquid still remained. + +"Here, drink this right off--it'll warm you up quicker than anything," +Ann Eliza said. + +Evelina obeyed, and a slight spark of colour came into her cheeks. +She turned to the custard pie and began to eat with a silent voracity +distressing to watch. She did not even look to see what was left for Ann +Eliza. + +"I ain't hungry," she said at last as she laid down her fork. "I'm only +so dead tired--that's the trouble." + +"Then you'd better get right into bed. Here's my old plaid +dressing-gown--you remember it, don't you?" Ann Eliza laughed, recalling +Evelina's ironies on the subject of the antiquated garment. With +trembling fingers she began to undo her sister's cloak. The dress +beneath it told a tale of poverty that Ann Eliza dared not pause to +note. She drew it gently off, and as it slipped from Evelina's shoulders +it revealed a tiny black bag hanging on a ribbon about her neck. Evelina +lifted her hand as though to screen the bag from Ann Eliza; and the +elder sister, seeing the gesture, continued her task with lowered eyes. +She undressed Evelina as quickly as she could, and wrapping her in the +plaid dressing-gown put her to bed, and spread her own shawl and her +sister's cloak above the blanket. + +"Where's the old red comfortable?" Evelina asked, as she sank down on +the pillow. + +"The comfortable? Oh, it was so hot and heavy I never used it after you +went--so I sold that too. I never could sleep under much clothes." + +She became aware that her sister was looking at her more attentively. + +"I guess you've been in trouble too," Evelina said. + +"Me? In trouble? What do you mean, Evelina?" + +"You've had to pawn the things, I suppose," Evelina continued in a weary +unmoved tone. "Well, I've been through worse than that. I've been to +hell and back." + +"Oh, Evelina--don't say it, sister!" Ann Eliza implored, shrinking +from the unholy word. She knelt down and began to rub her sister's feet +beneath the bedclothes. + +"I've been to hell and back--if I AM back," Evelina repeated. She +lifted her head from the pillow and began to talk with a sudden feverish +volubility. "It began right away, less than a month after we were +married. I've been in hell all that time, Ann Eliza." She fixed her eyes +with passionate intentness on Ann Eliza's face. "He took opium. I didn't +find it out till long afterward--at first, when he acted so strange, I +thought he drank. But it was worse, much worse than drinking." + +"Oh, sister, don't say it--don't say it yet! It's so sweet just to have +you here with me again." + +"I must say it," Evelina insisted, her flushed face burning with a kind +of bitter cruelty. "You don't know what life's like--you don't know +anything about it--setting here safe all the while in this peaceful +place." + +"Oh, Evelina--why didn't you write and send for me if it was like that?" + +"That's why I couldn't write. Didn't you guess I was ashamed?" + +"How could you be? Ashamed to write to Ann Eliza?" + +Evelina raised herself on her thin elbow, while Ann Eliza, bending over, +drew a corner of the shawl about her shoulder. + +"Do lay down again. You'll catch your death." + +"My death? That don't frighten me! You don't know what I've been +through." And sitting upright in the old mahogany bed, with flushed +cheeks and chattering teeth, and Ann Eliza's trembling arm clasping the +shawl about her neck, Evelina poured out her story. It was a tale +of misery and humiliation so remote from the elder sister's innocent +experiences that much of it was hardly intelligible to her. Evelina's +dreadful familiarity with it all, her fluency about things which Ann +Eliza half-guessed and quickly shuddered back from, seemed even more +alien and terrible than the actual tale she told. It was one thing--and +heaven knew it was bad enough!--to learn that one's sister's husband was +a drug-fiend; it was another, and much worse thing, to learn from that +sister's pallid lips what vileness lay behind the word. + +Evelina, unconscious of any distress but her own, sat upright, shivering +in Ann Eliza's hold, while she piled up, detail by detail, her dreary +narrative. + +"The minute we got out there, and he found the job wasn't as good as he +expected, he changed. At first I thought he was sick--I used to try to +keep him home and nurse him. Then I saw it was something different. +He used to go off for hours at a time, and when he came back his eyes +kinder had a fog over them. Sometimes he didn't har'ly know me, and +when he did he seemed to hate me. Once he hit me here." She touched her +breast. "Do you remember, Ann Eliza, that time he didn't come to see us +for a week--the time after we all went to Central Park together--and you +and I thought he must be sick?" + +Ann Eliza nodded. + +"Well, that was the trouble--he'd been at it then. But nothing like as +bad. After we'd been out there about a month he disappeared for a whole +week. They took him back at the store, and gave him another chance; but +the second time they discharged him, and he drifted round for ever so +long before he could get another job. We spent all our money and had to +move to a cheaper place. Then he got something to do, but they hardly +paid him anything, and he didn't stay there long. When he found out +about the baby--" + +"The baby?" Ann Eliza faltered. + +"It's dead--it only lived a day. When he found out about it, he got mad, +and said he hadn't any money to pay doctors' bills, and I'd better +write to you to help us. He had an idea you had money hidden away that +I didn't know about." She turned to her sister with remorseful eyes. "It +was him that made me get that hundred dollars out of you." + +"Hush, hush. I always meant it for you anyhow." + +"Yes, but I wouldn't have taken it if he hadn't been at me the whole +time. He used to make me do just what he wanted. Well, when I said I +wouldn't write to you for more money he said I'd better try and earn +some myself. That was when he struck me.... Oh, you don't know what I'm +talking about yet!... I tried to get work at a milliner's, but I was so +sick I couldn't stay. I was sick all the time. I wisht I'd ha' died, Ann +Eliza." + +"No, no, Evelina." + +"Yes, I do. It kept getting worse and worse. We pawned the furniture, +and they turned us out because we couldn't pay the rent; and so then we +went to board with Mrs. Hochmuller." + +Ann Eliza pressed her closer to dissemble her own tremor. "Mrs. +Hochmuller?" + +"Didn't you know she was out there? She moved out a month after we did. +She wasn't bad to me, and I think she tried to keep him straight--but +Linda--" + +"Linda--?" + +"Well, when I kep' getting worse, and he was always off, for days at a +time, the doctor had me sent to a hospital." + +"A hospital? Sister--sister!" + +"It was better than being with him; and the doctors were real kind to +me. After the baby was born I was very sick and had to stay there a good +while. And one day when I was laying there Mrs. Hochmuller came in as +white as a sheet, and told me him and Linda had gone off together and +taken all her money. That's the last I ever saw of him." She broke off +with a laugh and began to cough again. + +Ann Eliza tried to persuade her to lie down and sleep, but the rest of +her story had to be told before she could be soothed into consent. After +the news of Ramy's flight she had had brain fever, and had been sent +to another hospital where she stayed a long time--how long she couldn't +remember. Dates and days meant nothing to her in the shapeless ruin of +her life. When she left the hospital she found that Mrs. Hochmuller had +gone too. She was penniless, and had no one to turn to. A lady visitor +at the hospital was kind, and found her a place where she did housework; +but she was so weak they couldn't keep her. Then she got a job as +waitress in a down-town lunch-room, but one day she fainted while she +was handing a dish, and that evening when they paid her they told her +she needn't come again. + +"After that I begged in the streets"--(Ann Eliza's grasp again grew +tight)--"and one afternoon last week, when the matinees was coming out, +I met a man with a pleasant face, something like Mr. Hawkins, and he +stopped and asked me what the trouble was. I told him if he'd give me +five dollars I'd have money enough to buy a ticket back to New York, and +he took a good look at me and said, well, if that was what I wanted he'd +go straight to the station with me and give me the five dollars there. +So he did--and he bought the ticket, and put me in the cars." + +Evelina sank back, her face a sallow wedge in the white cleft of the +pillow. Ann Eliza leaned over her, and for a long time they held each +other without speaking. + +They were still clasped in this dumb embrace when there was a step in +the shop and Ann Eliza, starting up, saw Miss Mellins in the doorway. + +"My sakes, Miss Bunner! What in the land are you doing? Miss +Evelina--Mrs. Ramy--it ain't you?" + +Miss Mellins's eyes, bursting from their sockets, sprang from Evelina's +pallid face to the disordered supper table and the heap of worn clothes +on the floor; then they turned back to Ann Eliza, who had placed herself +on the defensive between her sister and the dress-maker. + +"My sister Evelina has come back--come back on a visit. She was taken +sick in the cars on the way home--I guess she caught cold--so I made her +go right to bed as soon as ever she got here." + +Ann Eliza was surprised at the strength and steadiness of her voice. +Fortified by its sound she went on, her eyes on Miss Mellins's baffled +countenance: "Mr. Ramy has gone west on a trip--a trip connected with +his business; and Evelina is going to stay with me till he comes back." + + + + +XII + + +What measure of belief her explanation of Evelina's return obtained +in the small circle of her friends Ann Eliza did not pause to enquire. +Though she could not remember ever having told a lie before, she adhered +with rigid tenacity to the consequences of her first lapse from truth, +and fortified her original statement with additional details whenever a +questioner sought to take her unawares. + +But other and more serious burdens lay on her startled conscience. For +the first time in her life she dimly faced the awful problem of +the inutility of self-sacrifice. Hitherto she had never thought +of questioning the inherited principles which had guided her life. +Self-effacement for the good of others had always seemed to her both +natural and necessary; but then she had taken it for granted that it +implied the securing of that good. Now she perceived that to refuse the +gifts of life does not ensure their transmission to those for whom they +have been surrendered; and her familiar heaven was unpeopled. She felt +she could no longer trust in the goodness of God, and there was only a +black abyss above the roof of Bunner Sisters. + +But there was little time to brood upon such problems. The care of +Evelina filled Ann Eliza's days and nights. The hastily summoned doctor +had pronounced her to be suffering from pneumonia, and under his care +the first stress of the disease was relieved. But her recovery was only +partial, and long after the doctor's visits had ceased she continued to +lie in bed, too weak to move, and seemingly indifferent to everything +about her. + +At length one evening, about six weeks after her return, she said to her +sister: "I don't feel's if I'd ever get up again." + +Ann Eliza turned from the kettle she was placing on the stove. She was +startled by the echo the words woke in her own breast. + +"Don't you talk like that, Evelina! I guess you're on'y tired out--and +disheartened." + +"Yes, I'm disheartened," Evelina murmured. + +A few months earlier Ann Eliza would have met the confession with a word +of pious admonition; now she accepted it in silence. + +"Maybe you'll brighten up when your cough gets better," she suggested. + +"Yes--or my cough'll get better when I brighten up," Evelina retorted +with a touch of her old tartness. + +"Does your cough keep on hurting you jest as much?" + +"I don't see's there's much difference." + +"Well, I guess I'll get the doctor to come round again," Ann Eliza said, +trying for the matter-of-course tone in which one might speak of sending +for the plumber or the gas-fitter. + +"It ain't any use sending for the doctor--and who's going to pay him?" + +"I am," answered the elder sister. "Here's your tea, and a mite of +toast. Don't that tempt you?" + +Already, in the watches of the night, Ann Eliza had been tormented by +that same question--who was to pay the doctor?--and a few days before +she had temporarily silenced it by borrowing twenty dollars of Miss +Mellins. The transaction had cost her one of the bitterest struggles +of her life. She had never borrowed a penny of any one before, and the +possibility of having to do so had always been classed in her mind +among those shameful extremities to which Providence does not let +decent people come. But nowadays she no longer believed in the personal +supervision of Providence; and had she been compelled to steal the money +instead of borrowing it, she would have felt that her conscience was the +only tribunal before which she had to answer. Nevertheless, the actual +humiliation of having to ask for the money was no less bitter; and she +could hardly hope that Miss Mellins would view the case with the +same detachment as herself. Miss Mellins was very kind; but she not +unnaturally felt that her kindness should be rewarded by according +her the right to ask questions; and bit by bit Ann Eliza saw Evelina's +miserable secret slipping into the dress-maker's possession. + +When the doctor came she left him alone with Evelina, busying herself in +the shop that she might have an opportunity of seeing him alone on his +way out. To steady herself she began to sort a trayful of buttons, and +when the doctor appeared she was reciting under her breath: "Twenty-four +horn, two and a half cards fancy pearl..." She saw at once that his look +was grave. + +He sat down on the chair beside the counter, and her mind travelled +miles before he spoke. + +"Miss Bunner, the best thing you can do is to let me get a bed for your +sister at St. Luke's." + +"The hospital?" + +"Come now, you're above that sort of prejudice, aren't you?" The doctor +spoke in the tone of one who coaxes a spoiled child. "I know how devoted +you are--but Mrs. Ramy can be much better cared for there than here. +You really haven't time to look after her and attend to your business as +well. There'll be no expense, you understand--" + +Ann Eliza made no answer. "You think my sister's going to be sick a good +while, then?" she asked. + +"Well, yes--possibly." + +"You think she's very sick?" + +"Well, yes. She's very sick." + +His face had grown still graver; he sat there as though he had never +known what it was to hurry. + +Ann Eliza continued to separate the pearl and horn buttons. Suddenly she +lifted her eyes and looked at him. "Is she going to die?" + +The doctor laid a kindly hand on hers. "We never say that, Miss Bunner. +Human skill works wonders--and at the hospital Mrs. Ramy would have +every chance." + +"What is it? What's she dying of?" + +The doctor hesitated, seeking to substitute a popular phrase for the +scientific terminology which rose to his lips. + +"I want to know," Ann Eliza persisted. + +"Yes, of course; I understand. Well, your sister has had a hard +time lately, and there is a complication of causes, resulting in +consumption--rapid consumption. At the hospital--" + +"I'll keep her here," said Ann Eliza quietly. + +After the doctor had gone she went on for some time sorting the buttons; +then she slipped the tray into its place on a shelf behind the counter +and went into the back room. She found Evelina propped upright against +the pillows, a flush of agitation on her cheeks. Ann Eliza pulled up the +shawl which had slipped from her sister's shoulders. + +"How long you've been! What's he been saying?" + +"Oh, he went long ago--he on'y stopped to give me a prescription. I was +sorting out that tray of buttons. Miss Mellins's girl got them all mixed +up." + +She felt Evelina's eyes upon her. + +"He must have said something: what was it?" + +"Why, he said you'd have to be careful--and stay in bed--and take this +new medicine he's given you." + +"Did he say I was going to get well?" + +"Why, Evelina!" + +"What's the use, Ann Eliza? You can't deceive me. I've just been up to +look at myself in the glass; and I saw plenty of 'em in the hospital +that looked like me. They didn't get well, and I ain't going to." Her +head dropped back. "It don't much matter--I'm about tired. On'y there's +one thing--Ann Eliza--" + +The elder sister drew near to the bed. + +"There's one thing I ain't told you. I didn't want to tell you yet +because I was afraid you might be sorry--but if he says I'm going to +die I've got to say it." She stopped to cough, and to Ann Eliza it now +seemed as though every cough struck a minute from the hours remaining to +her. + +"Don't talk now--you're tired." + +"I'll be tireder to-morrow, I guess. And I want you should know. Sit +down close to me--there." + +Ann Eliza sat down in silence, stroking her shrunken hand. + +"I'm a Roman Catholic, Ann Eliza." + +"Evelina--oh, Evelina Bunner! A Roman Catholic--YOU? Oh, Evelina, did HE +make you?" + +Evelina shook her head. "I guess he didn't have no religion; he never +spoke of it. But you see Mrs. Hochmuller was a Catholic, and so when I +was sick she got the doctor to send me to a Roman Catholic hospital, +and the sisters was so good to me there--and the priest used to come and +talk to me; and the things he said kep' me from going crazy. He seemed +to make everything easier." + +"Oh, sister, how could you?" Ann Eliza wailed. She knew little of the +Catholic religion except that "Papists" believed in it--in itself a +sufficient indictment. Her spiritual rebellion had not freed her from +the formal part of her religious belief, and apostasy had always seemed +to her one of the sins from which the pure in mind avert their thoughts. + +"And then when the baby was born," Evelina continued, "he christened it +right away, so it could go to heaven; and after that, you see, I had to +be a Catholic." + +"I don't see--" + +"Don't I have to be where the baby is? I couldn't ever ha' gone there if +I hadn't been made a Catholic. Don't you understand that?" + +Ann Eliza sat speechless, drawing her hand away. Once more she +found herself shut out of Evelina's heart, an exile from her closest +affections. + +"I've got to go where the baby is," Evelina feverishly insisted. + +Ann Eliza could think of nothing to say; she could only feel that +Evelina was dying, and dying as a stranger in her arms. Ramy and the +day-old baby had parted her forever from her sister. + +Evelina began again. "If I get worse I want you to send for a priest. +Miss Mellins'll know where to send--she's got an aunt that's a Catholic. +Promise me faithful you will." + +"I promise," said Ann Eliza. + +After that they spoke no more of the matter; but Ann Eliza now +understood that the little black bag about her sister's neck, which +she had innocently taken for a memento of Ramy, was some kind of +sacrilegious amulet, and her fingers shrank from its contact when she +bathed and dressed Evelina. It seemed to her the diabolical instrument +of their estrangement. + + + + +XIII + + +Spring had really come at last. There were leaves on the ailanthus-tree +that Evelina could see from her bed, gentle clouds floated over it in +the blue, and now and then the cry of a flower-seller sounded from the +street. + +One day there was a shy knock on the back-room door, and Johnny Hawkins +came in with two yellow jonquils in his fist. He was getting bigger and +squarer, and his round freckled face was growing into a smaller copy of +his father's. He walked up to Evelina and held out the flowers. + +"They blew off the cart and the fellow said I could keep 'em. But you +can have 'em," he announced. + +Ann Eliza rose from her seat at the sewing-machine and tried to take the +flowers from him. + +"They ain't for you; they're for her," he sturdily objected; and Evelina +held out her hand for the jonquils. + +After Johnny had gone she lay and looked at them without speaking. Ann +Eliza, who had gone back to the machine, bent her head over the seam she +was stitching; the click, click, click of the machine sounded in her ear +like the tick of Ramy's clock, and it seemed to her that life had gone +backward, and that Evelina, radiant and foolish, had just come into the +room with the yellow flowers in her hand. + +When at last she ventured to look up, she saw that her sister's head +had drooped against the pillow, and that she was sleeping quietly. Her +relaxed hand still held the jonquils, but it was evident that they had +awakened no memories; she had dozed off almost as soon as Johnny had +given them to her. The discovery gave Ann Eliza a startled sense of the +ruins that must be piled upon her past. "I don't believe I could have +forgotten that day, though," she said to herself. But she was glad that +Evelina had forgotten. + +Evelina's disease moved on along the usual course, now lifting her on a +brief wave of elation, now sinking her to new depths of weakness. +There was little to be done, and the doctor came only at lengthening +intervals. On his way out he always repeated his first friendly +suggestion about sending Evelina to the hospital; and Ann Eliza always +answered: "I guess we can manage." + +The hours passed for her with the fierce rapidity that great joy or +anguish lends them. She went through the days with a sternly smiling +precision, but she hardly knew what was happening, and when night-fall +released her from the shop, and she could carry her work to Evelina's +bedside, the same sense of unreality accompanied her, and she still +seemed to be accomplishing a task whose object had escaped her memory. + +Once, when Evelina felt better, she expressed a desire to make some +artificial flowers, and Ann Eliza, deluded by this awakening interest, +got out the faded bundles of stems and petals and the little tools and +spools of wire. But after a few minutes the work dropped from Evelina's +hands and she said: "I'll wait until to-morrow." + +She never again spoke of the flower-making, but one day, after watching +Ann Eliza's laboured attempt to trim a spring hat for Mrs. Hawkins, she +demanded impatiently that the hat should be brought to her, and in a +trice had galvanized the lifeless bow and given the brim the twist it +needed. + +These were rare gleams; and more frequent were the days of speechless +lassitude, when she lay for hours silently staring at the window, shaken +only by the hard incessant cough that sounded to Ann Eliza like the +hammering of nails into a coffin. + +At length one morning Ann Eliza, starting up from the mattress at the +foot of the bed, hastily called Miss Mellins down, and ran through the +smoky dawn for the doctor. He came back with her and did what he could +to give Evelina momentary relief; then he went away, promising to +look in again before night. Miss Mellins, her head still covered with +curl-papers, disappeared in his wake, and when the sisters were alone +Evelina beckoned to Ann Eliza. + +"You promised," she whispered, grasping her sister's arm; and Ann Eliza +understood. She had not yet dared to tell Miss Mellins of Evelina's +change of faith; it had seemed even more difficult than borrowing the +money; but now it had to be done. She ran upstairs after the dress-maker +and detained her on the landing. + +"Miss Mellins, can you tell me where to send for a priest--a Roman +Catholic priest?" + +"A priest, Miss Bunner?" + +"Yes. My sister became a Roman Catholic while she was away. They were +kind to her in her sickness--and now she wants a priest." Ann Eliza +faced Miss Mellins with unflinching eyes. + +"My aunt Dugan'll know. I'll run right round to her the minute I get my +papers off," the dress-maker promised; and Ann Eliza thanked her. + +An hour or two later the priest appeared. Ann Eliza, who was watching, +saw him coming down the steps to the shop-door and went to meet him. His +expression was kind, but she shrank from his peculiar dress, and from +his pale face with its bluish chin and enigmatic smile. Ann Eliza +remained in the shop. Miss Mellins's girl had mixed the buttons again +and she set herself to sort them. The priest stayed a long time with +Evelina. When he again carried his enigmatic smile past the counter, and +Ann Eliza rejoined her sister, Evelina was smiling with something of the +same mystery; but she did not tell her secret. + +After that it seemed to Ann Eliza that the shop and the back room no +longer belonged to her. It was as though she were there on sufferance, +indulgently tolerated by the unseen power which hovered over Evelina +even in the absence of its minister. The priest came almost daily; and +at last a day arrived when he was called to administer some rite of +which Ann Eliza but dimly grasped the sacramental meaning. All she knew +was that it meant that Evelina was going, and going, under this alien +guidance, even farther from her than to the dark places of death. + +When the priest came, with something covered in his hands, she crept +into the shop, closing the door of the back room to leave him alone with +Evelina. + +It was a warm afternoon in May, and the crooked ailanthus-tree rooted in +a fissure of the opposite pavement was a fountain of tender green. Women +in light dresses passed with the languid step of spring; and presently +there came a man with a hand-cart full of pansy and geranium plants who +stopped outside the window, signalling to Ann Eliza to buy. + +An hour went by before the door of the back room opened and the priest +reappeared with that mysterious covered something in his hands. Ann +Eliza had risen, drawing back as he passed. He had doubtless divined her +antipathy, for he had hitherto only bowed in going in and out; but to +day he paused and looked at her compassionately. + +"I have left your sister in a very beautiful state of mind," he said in +a low voice like a woman's. "She is full of spiritual consolation." + +Ann Eliza was silent, and he bowed and went out. She hastened back to +Evelina's bed, and knelt down beside it. Evelina's eyes were very +large and bright; she turned them on Ann Eliza with a look of inner +illumination. + +"I shall see the baby," she said; then her eyelids fell and she dozed. + +The doctor came again at nightfall, administering some last palliatives; +and after he had gone Ann Eliza, refusing to have her vigil shared by +Miss Mellins or Mrs. Hawkins, sat down to keep watch alone. + +It was a very quiet night. Evelina never spoke or opened her eyes, +but in the still hour before dawn Ann Eliza saw that the restless hand +outside the bed-clothes had stopped its twitching. She stooped over and +felt no breath on her sister's lips. + + +The funeral took place three days later. Evelina was buried in +Calvary Cemetery, the priest assuming the whole care of the necessary +arrangements, while Ann Eliza, a passive spectator, beheld with stony +indifference this last negation of her past. + +A week afterward she stood in her bonnet and mantle in the doorway of +the little shop. Its whole aspect had changed. Counter and shelves were +bare, the window was stripped of its familiar miscellany of artificial +flowers, note-paper, wire hat-frames, and limp garments from the dyer's; +and against the glass pane of the doorway hung a sign: "This store to +let." + +Ann Eliza turned her eyes from the sign as she went out and locked the +door behind her. Evelina's funeral had been very expensive, and Ann +Eliza, having sold her stock-in-trade and the few articles of furniture +that remained to her, was leaving the shop for the last time. She had +not been able to buy any mourning, but Miss Mellins had sewed some crape +on her old black mantle and bonnet, and having no gloves she slipped her +bare hands under the folds of the mantle. + +It was a beautiful morning, and the air was full of a warm sunshine that +had coaxed open nearly every window in the street, and summoned to the +window-sills the sickly plants nurtured indoors in winter. Ann Eliza's +way lay westward, toward Broadway; but at the corner she paused and +looked back down the familiar length of the street. Her eyes rested a +moment on the blotched "Bunner Sisters" above the empty window of the +shop; then they travelled on to the overflowing foliage of the Square, +above which was the church tower with the dial that had marked the hours +for the sisters before Ann Eliza had bought the nickel clock. She looked +at it all as though it had been the scene of some unknown life, of which +the vague report had reached her: she felt for herself the only remote +pity that busy people accord to the misfortunes which come to them by +hearsay. + +She walked to Broadway and down to the office of the house-agent to whom +she had entrusted the sub-letting of the shop. She left the key with +one of his clerks, who took it from her as if it had been any one of a +thousand others, and remarked that the weather looked as if spring +was really coming; then she turned and began to move up the great +thoroughfare, which was just beginning to wake to its multitudinous +activities. + +She walked less rapidly now, studying each shop window as she passed, +but not with the desultory eye of enjoyment: the watchful fixity of her +gaze overlooked everything but the object of its quest. At length she +stopped before a small window wedged between two mammoth buildings, +and displaying, behind its shining plate-glass festooned with muslin, +a varied assortment of sofa-cushions, tea-cloths, pen-wipers, painted +calendars and other specimens of feminine industry. In a corner of +the window she had read, on a slip of paper pasted against the pane: +"Wanted, a Saleslady," and after studying the display of fancy articles +beneath it, she gave her mantle a twitch, straightened her shoulders and +went in. + +Behind a counter crowded with pin-cushions, watch-holders and other +needlework trifles, a plump young woman with smooth hair sat sewing bows +of ribbon on a scrap basket. The little shop was about the size of the +one on which Ann Eliza had just closed the door; and it looked as fresh +and gay and thriving as she and Evelina had once dreamed of making +Bunner Sisters. The friendly air of the place made her pluck up courage +to speak. + +"Saleslady? Yes, we do want one. Have you any one to recommend?" the +young woman asked, not unkindly. + +Ann Eliza hesitated, disconcerted by the unexpected question; and the +other, cocking her head on one side to study the effect of the bow she +had just sewed on the basket, continued: "We can't afford more than +thirty dollars a month, but the work is light. She would be expected to +do a little fancy sewing between times. We want a bright girl: stylish, +and pleasant manners. You know what I mean. Not over thirty, anyhow; and +nice-looking. Will you write down the name?" + +Ann Eliza looked at her confusedly. She opened her lips to explain, and +then, without speaking, turned toward the crisply-curtained door. + +"Ain't you going to leave the AD-dress?" the young woman called out +after her. Ann Eliza went out into the thronged street. The great city, +under the fair spring sky, seemed to throb with the stir of innumerable +beginnings. She walked on, looking for another shop window with a sign +in it. + + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Bunner Sisters, by Edith Wharton + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BUNNER SISTERS *** + +***** This file should be named 311.txt or 311.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/311/ + +Produced by Judith Boss + +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. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Bunner Sisters + +Author: Edith Wharton + +Release Date: July 1, 2008 [EBook #311] +Last Updated: March 8, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BUNNER SISTERS *** + + + + +Produced by Judith Boss and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + BUNNER SISTERS + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Edith Wharton + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h4> + Scribner's Magazine<br /> 60 (Oct. 1916): 439-58;<br /> 60 (Nov. 1916): + 575-96. + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART1"> <big><b>PART I</b></big> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VII </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PART"> <big><b>PART II</b></big> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> XIII </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PART1" id="link2H_PART1"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + PART I + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I + </h2> + <p> + In the days when New York's traffic moved at the pace of the drooping + horse-car, when society applauded Christine Nilsson at the Academy of + Music and basked in the sunsets of the Hudson River School on the walls of + the National Academy of Design, an inconspicuous shop with a single + show-window was intimately and favourably known to the feminine population + of the quarter bordering on Stuyvesant Square. + </p> + <p> + It was a very small shop, in a shabby basement, in a side-street already + doomed to decline; and from the miscellaneous display behind the + window-pane, and the brevity of the sign surmounting it (merely “Bunner + Sisters” in blotchy gold on a black ground) it would have been difficult + for the uninitiated to guess the precise nature of the business carried on + within. But that was of little consequence, since its fame was so purely + local that the customers on whom its existence depended were almost + congenitally aware of the exact range of “goods” to be found at Bunner + Sisters'. + </p> + <p> + The house of which Bunner Sisters had annexed the basement was a private + dwelling with a brick front, green shutters on weak hinges, and a + dress-maker's sign in the window above the shop. On each side of its + modest three stories stood higher buildings, with fronts of brown stone, + cracked and blistered, cast-iron balconies and cat-haunted grass-patches + behind twisted railings. These houses too had once been private, but now a + cheap lunchroom filled the basement of one, while the other announced + itself, above the knotty wistaria that clasped its central balcony, as the + Mendoza Family Hotel. It was obvious from the chronic cluster of + refuse-barrels at its area-gate and the blurred surface of its curtainless + windows, that the families frequenting the Mendoza Hotel were not exacting + in their tastes; though they doubtless indulged in as much fastidiousness + as they could afford to pay for, and rather more than their landlord + thought they had a right to express. + </p> + <p> + These three houses fairly exemplified the general character of the street, + which, as it stretched eastward, rapidly fell from shabbiness to squalor, + with an increasing frequency of projecting sign-boards, and of swinging + doors that softly shut or opened at the touch of red-nosed men and pale + little girls with broken jugs. The middle of the street was full of + irregular depressions, well adapted to retain the long swirls of dust and + straw and twisted paper that the wind drove up and down its sad untended + length; and toward the end of the day, when traffic had been active, the + fissured pavement formed a mosaic of coloured hand-bills, lids of + tomato-cans, old shoes, cigar-stumps and banana skins, cemented together + by a layer of mud, or veiled in a powdering of dust, as the state of the + weather determined. + </p> + <p> + The sole refuge offered from the contemplation of this depressing waste + was the sight of the Bunner Sisters' window. Its panes were always + well-washed, and though their display of artificial flowers, bands of + scalloped flannel, wire hat-frames, and jars of home-made preserves, had + the undefinable greyish tinge of objects long preserved in the show-case + of a museum, the window revealed a background of orderly counters and + white-washed walls in pleasant contrast to the adjoining dinginess. + </p> + <p> + The Bunner sisters were proud of the neatness of their shop and content + with its humble prosperity. It was not what they had once imagined it + would be, but though it presented but a shrunken image of their earlier + ambitions it enabled them to pay their rent and keep themselves alive and + out of debt; and it was long since their hopes had soared higher. + </p> + <p> + Now and then, however, among their greyer hours there came one not bright + enough to be called sunny, but rather of the silvery twilight hue which + sometimes ends a day of storm. It was such an hour that Ann Eliza, the + elder of the firm, was soberly enjoying as she sat one January evening in + the back room which served as bedroom, kitchen and parlour to herself and + her sister Evelina. In the shop the blinds had been drawn down, the + counters cleared and the wares in the window lightly covered with an old + sheet; but the shop-door remained unlocked till Evelina, who had taken a + parcel to the dyer's, should come back. + </p> + <p> + In the back room a kettle bubbled on the stove, and Ann Eliza had laid a + cloth over one end of the centre table, and placed near the green-shaded + sewing lamp two tea-cups, two plates, a sugar-bowl and a piece of pie. The + rest of the room remained in a greenish shadow which discreetly veiled the + outline of an old-fashioned mahogany bedstead surmounted by a chromo of a + young lady in a night-gown who clung with eloquently-rolling eyes to a + crag described in illuminated letters as the Rock of Ages; and against the + unshaded windows two rocking-chairs and a sewing-machine were silhouetted + on the dusk. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, her small and habitually anxious face smoothed to unusual + serenity, and the streaks of pale hair on her veined temples shining + glossily beneath the lamp, had seated herself at the table, and was tying + up, with her usual fumbling deliberation, a knobby object wrapped in + paper. Now and then, as she struggled with the string, which was too + short, she fancied she heard the click of the shop-door, and paused to + listen for her sister; then, as no one came, she straightened her + spectacles and entered into renewed conflict with the parcel. In honour of + some event of obvious importance, she had put on her double-dyed and + triple-turned black silk. Age, while bestowing on this garment a patine + worthy of a Renaissance bronze, had deprived it of whatever curves the + wearer's pre-Raphaelite figure had once been able to impress on it; but + this stiffness of outline gave it an air of sacerdotal state which seemed + to emphasize the importance of the occasion. + </p> + <p> + Seen thus, in her sacramental black silk, a wisp of lace turned over the + collar and fastened by a mosaic brooch, and her face smoothed into harmony + with her apparel, Ann Eliza looked ten years younger than behind the + counter, in the heat and burden of the day. It would have been as + difficult to guess her approximate age as that of the black silk, for she + had the same worn and glossy aspect as her dress; but a faint tinge of + pink still lingered on her cheek-bones, like the reflection of sunset + which sometimes colours the west long after the day is over. + </p> + <p> + When she had tied the parcel to her satisfaction, and laid it with furtive + accuracy just opposite her sister's plate, she sat down, with an air of + obviously-assumed indifference, in one of the rocking-chairs near the + window; and a moment later the shop-door opened and Evelina entered. + </p> + <p> + The younger Bunner sister, who was a little taller than her elder, had a + more pronounced nose, but a weaker slope of mouth and chin. She still + permitted herself the frivolity of waving her pale hair, and its tight + little ridges, stiff as the tresses of an Assyrian statue, were flattened + under a dotted veil which ended at the tip of her cold-reddened nose. In + her scant jacket and skirt of black cashmere she looked singularly nipped + and faded; but it seemed possible that under happier conditions she might + still warm into relative youth. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Ann Eliza,” she exclaimed, in a thin voice pitched to chronic + fretfulness, “what in the world you got your best silk on for?” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza had risen with a blush that made her steel-browed spectacles + incongruous. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Evelina, why shouldn't I, I sh'ld like to know? Ain't it your + birthday, dear?” She put out her arms with the awkwardness of habitually + repressed emotion. + </p> + <p> + Evelina, without seeming to notice the gesture, threw back the jacket from + her narrow shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pshaw,” she said, less peevishly. “I guess we'd better give up + birthdays. Much as we can do to keep Christmas nowadays.” + </p> + <p> + “You hadn't oughter say that, Evelina. We ain't so badly off as all that. + I guess you're cold and tired. Set down while I take the kettle off: it's + right on the boil.” + </p> + <p> + She pushed Evelina toward the table, keeping a sideward eye on her + sister's listless movements, while her own hands were busy with the + kettle. A moment later came the exclamation for which she waited. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Ann Eliza!” Evelina stood transfixed by the sight of the parcel + beside her plate. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, tremulously engaged in filling the teapot, lifted a look of + hypocritical surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Sakes, Evelina! What's the matter?” + </p> + <p> + The younger sister had rapidly untied the string, and drawn from its + wrappings a round nickel clock of the kind to be bought for a + dollar-seventy-five. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Ann Eliza, how could you?” She set the clock down, and the sisters + exchanged agitated glances across the table. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” the elder retorted, “<i>Ain't</i> it your birthday?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, and ain't you had to run round the corner to the Square every + morning, rain or shine, to see what time it was, ever since we had to sell + mother's watch last July? Ain't you, Evelina?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but—” + </p> + <p> + “There ain't any buts. We've always wanted a clock and now we've got one: + that's all there is about it. Ain't she a beauty, Evelina?” Ann Eliza, + putting back the kettle on the stove, leaned over her sister's shoulder to + pass an approving hand over the circular rim of the clock. “Hear how loud + she ticks. I was afraid you'd hear her soon as you come in.” + </p> + <p> + “No. I wasn't thinking,” murmured Evelina. + </p> + <p> + “Well, ain't you glad now?” Ann Eliza gently reproached her. The rebuke + had no acerbity, for she knew that Evelina's seeming indifference was + alive with unexpressed scruples. + </p> + <p> + “I'm real glad, sister; but you hadn't oughter. We could have got on well + enough without.” + </p> + <p> + “Evelina Bunner, just you sit down to your tea. I guess I know what I'd + oughter and what I'd hadn't oughter just as well as you do—I'm old + enough!” + </p> + <p> + “You're real good, Ann Eliza; but I know you've given up something you + needed to get me this clock.” + </p> + <p> + “What do I need, I'd like to know? Ain't I got a best black silk?” the + elder sister said with a laugh full of nervous pleasure. + </p> + <p> + She poured out Evelina's tea, adding some condensed milk from the jug, and + cutting for her the largest slice of pie; then she drew up her own chair + to the table. + </p> + <p> + The two women ate in silence for a few moments before Evelina began to + speak again. “The clock is perfectly lovely and I don't say it ain't a + comfort to have it; but I hate to think what it must have cost you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, it didn't, neither,” Ann Eliza retorted. “I got it dirt cheap, if you + want to know. And I paid for it out of a little extra work I did the other + night on the machine for Mrs. Hawkins.” + </p> + <p> + “The baby-waists?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “There, I knew it! You swore to me you'd buy a new pair of shoes with that + money.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, and s'posin' I didn't want 'em—what then? I've patched up the + old ones as good as new—and I do declare, Evelina Bunner, if you ask + me another question you'll go and spoil all my pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, I won't,” said the younger sister. + </p> + <p> + They continued to eat without farther words. Evelina yielded to her + sister's entreaty that she should finish the pie, and poured out a second + cup of tea, into which she put the last lump of sugar; and between them, + on the table, the clock kept up its sociable tick. + </p> + <p> + “Where'd you get it, Ann Eliza?” asked Evelina, fascinated. + </p> + <p> + “Where'd you s'pose? Why, right round here, over acrost the Square, in the + queerest little store you ever laid eyes on. I saw it in the window as I + was passing, and I stepped right in and asked how much it was, and the + store-keeper he was real pleasant about it. He was just the nicest man. I + guess he's a German. I told him I couldn't give much, and he said, well, + he knew what hard times was too. His name's Ramy—Herman Ramy: I saw + it written up over the store. And he told me he used to work at Tiff'ny's, + oh, for years, in the clock-department, and three years ago he took sick + with some kinder fever, and lost his place, and when he got well they'd + engaged somebody else and didn't want him, and so he started this little + store by himself. I guess he's real smart, and he spoke quite like an + educated man—but he looks sick.” + </p> + <p> + Evelina was listening with absorbed attention. In the narrow lives of the + two sisters such an episode was not to be under-rated. + </p> + <p> + “What you say his name was?” she asked as Ann Eliza paused. + </p> + <p> + “Herman Ramy.” + </p> + <p> + “How old is he?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I couldn't exactly tell you, he looked so sick—but I don't + b'lieve he's much over forty.” + </p> + <p> + By this time the plates had been cleared and the teapot emptied, and the + two sisters rose from the table. Ann Eliza, tying an apron over her black + silk, carefully removed all traces of the meal; then, after washing the + cups and plates, and putting them away in a cupboard, she drew her + rocking-chair to the lamp and sat down to a heap of mending. Evelina, + meanwhile, had been roaming about the room in search of an abiding-place + for the clock. A rosewood what-not with ornamental fret-work hung on the + wall beside the devout young lady in dishabille, and after much weighing + of alternatives the sisters decided to dethrone a broken china vase filled + with dried grasses which had long stood on the top shelf, and to put the + clock in its place; the vase, after farther consideration, being relegated + to a small table covered with blue and white beadwork, which held a Bible + and prayer-book, and an illustrated copy of Longfellow's poems given as a + school-prize to their father. + </p> + <p> + This change having been made, and the effect studied from every angle of + the room, Evelina languidly put her pinking-machine on the table, and sat + down to the monotonous work of pinking a heap of black silk flounces. The + strips of stuff slid slowly to the floor at her side, and the clock, from + its commanding altitude, kept time with the dispiriting click of the + instrument under her fingers. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II + </h2> + <p> + The purchase of Evelina's clock had been a more important event in the + life of Ann Eliza Bunner than her younger sister could divine. In the + first place, there had been the demoralizing satisfaction of finding + herself in possession of a sum of money which she need not put into the + common fund, but could spend as she chose, without consulting Evelina, and + then the excitement of her stealthy trips abroad, undertaken on the rare + occasions when she could trump up a pretext for leaving the shop; since, + as a rule, it was Evelina who took the bundles to the dyer's, and + delivered the purchases of those among their customers who were too + genteel to be seen carrying home a bonnet or a bundle of pinking—so + that, had it not been for the excuse of having to see Mrs. Hawkins's + teething baby, Ann Eliza would hardly have known what motive to allege for + deserting her usual seat behind the counter. + </p> + <p> + The infrequency of her walks made them the chief events of her life. The + mere act of going out from the monastic quiet of the shop into the tumult + of the streets filled her with a subdued excitement which grew too intense + for pleasure as she was swallowed by the engulfing roar of Broadway or + Third Avenue, and began to do timid battle with their incessant + cross-currents of humanity. After a glance or two into the great + show-windows she usually allowed herself to be swept back into the shelter + of a side-street, and finally regained her own roof in a state of + breathless bewilderment and fatigue; but gradually, as her nerves were + soothed by the familiar quiet of the little shop, and the click of + Evelina's pinking-machine, certain sights and sounds would detach + themselves from the torrent along which she had been swept, and she would + devote the rest of the day to a mental reconstruction of the different + episodes of her walk, till finally it took shape in her thought as a + consecutive and highly-coloured experience, from which, for weeks + afterwards, she would detach some fragmentary recollection in the course + of her long dialogues with her sister. + </p> + <p> + But when, to the unwonted excitement of going out, was added the intenser + interest of looking for a present for Evelina, Ann Eliza's agitation, + sharpened by concealment, actually preyed upon her rest; and it was not + till the present had been given, and she had unbosomed herself of the + experiences connected with its purchase, that she could look back with + anything like composure to that stirring moment of her life. From that day + forward, however, she began to take a certain tranquil pleasure in + thinking of Mr. Ramy's small shop, not unlike her own in its countrified + obscurity, though the layer of dust which covered its counter and shelves + made the comparison only superficially acceptable. Still, she did not + judge the state of the shop severely, for Mr. Ramy had told her that he + was alone in the world, and lone men, she was aware, did not know how to + deal with dust. It gave her a good deal of occupation to wonder why he had + never married, or if, on the other hand, he were a widower, and had lost + all his dear little children; and she scarcely knew which alternative + seemed to make him the more interesting. In either case, his life was + assuredly a sad one; and she passed many hours in speculating on the + manner in which he probably spent his evenings. She knew he lived at the + back of his shop, for she had caught, on entering, a glimpse of a dingy + room with a tumbled bed; and the pervading smell of cold fry suggested + that he probably did his own cooking. She wondered if he did not often + make his tea with water that had not boiled, and asked herself, almost + jealously, who looked after the shop while he went to market. Then it + occurred to her as likely that he bought his provisions at the same market + as Evelina; and she was fascinated by the thought that he and her sister + might constantly be meeting in total unconsciousness of the link between + them. Whenever she reached this stage in her reflexions she lifted a + furtive glance to the clock, whose loud staccato tick was becoming a part + of her inmost being. + </p> + <p> + The seed sown by these long hours of meditation germinated at last in the + secret wish to go to market some morning in Evelina's stead. As this + purpose rose to the surface of Ann Eliza's thoughts she shrank back shyly + from its contemplation. A plan so steeped in duplicity had never before + taken shape in her crystalline soul. How was it possible for her to + consider such a step? And, besides, (she did not possess sufficient logic + to mark the downward trend of this “besides”), what excuse could she make + that would not excite her sister's curiosity? From this second query it + was an easy descent to the third: how soon could she manage to go? + </p> + <p> + It was Evelina herself, who furnished the necessary pretext by awaking + with a sore throat on the day when she usually went to market. It was a + Saturday, and as they always had their bit of steak on Sunday the + expedition could not be postponed, and it seemed natural that Ann Eliza, + as she tied an old stocking around Evelina's throat, should announce her + intention of stepping round to the butcher's. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Ann Eliza, they'll cheat you so,” her sister wailed. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza brushed aside the imputation with a smile, and a few minutes + later, having set the room to rights, and cast a last glance at the shop, + she was tying on her bonnet with fumbling haste. + </p> + <p> + The morning was damp and cold, with a sky full of sulky clouds that would + not make room for the sun, but as yet dropped only an occasional + snow-flake. In the early light the street looked its meanest and most + neglected; but to Ann Eliza, never greatly troubled by any untidiness for + which she was not responsible, it seemed to wear a singularly friendly + aspect. + </p> + <p> + A few minutes' walk brought her to the market where Evelina made her + purchases, and where, if he had any sense of topographical fitness, Mr. + Ramy must also deal. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, making her way through the outskirts of potato-barrels and + flabby fish, found no one in the shop but the gory-aproned butcher who + stood in the background cutting chops. + </p> + <p> + As she approached him across the tesselation of fish-scales, blood and + saw-dust, he laid aside his cleaver and not unsympathetically asked: + “Sister sick?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not very—jest a cold,” she answered, as guiltily as if + Evelina's illness had been feigned. “We want a steak as usual, please—and + my sister said you was to be sure to give me jest as good a cut as if it + was her,” she added with child-like candour. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's all right.” The butcher picked up his weapon with a grin. + “Your sister knows a cut as well as any of us,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + In another moment, Ann Eliza reflected, the steak would be cut and wrapped + up, and no choice left her but to turn her disappointed steps toward home. + She was too shy to try to delay the butcher by such conversational arts as + she possessed, but the approach of a deaf old lady in an antiquated bonnet + and mantle gave her her opportunity. + </p> + <p> + “Wait on her first, please,” Ann Eliza whispered. “I ain't in any hurry.” + </p> + <p> + The butcher advanced to his new customer, and Ann Eliza, palpitating in + the back of the shop, saw that the old lady's hesitations between liver + and pork chops were likely to be indefinitely prolonged. They were still + unresolved when she was interrupted by the entrance of a blowsy Irish girl + with a basket on her arm. The newcomer caused a momentary diversion, and + when she had departed the old lady, who was evidently as intolerant of + interruption as a professional story-teller, insisted on returning to the + beginning of her complicated order, and weighing anew, with an anxious + appeal to the butcher's arbitration, the relative advantages of pork and + liver. But even her hesitations, and the intrusion on them of two or three + other customers, were of no avail, for Mr. Ramy was not among those who + entered the shop; and at last Ann Eliza, ashamed of staying longer, + reluctantly claimed her steak, and walked home through the thickening + snow. + </p> + <p> + Even to her simple judgment the vanity of her hopes was plain, and in the + clear light that disappointment turns upon our actions she wondered how + she could have been foolish enough to suppose that, even if Mr. Ramy <i>did</i> + go to that particular market, he would hit on the same day and hour as + herself. + </p> + <p> + There followed a colourless week unmarked by farther incident. The old + stocking cured Evelina's throat, and Mrs. Hawkins dropped in once or twice + to talk of her baby's teeth; some new orders for pinking were received, + and Evelina sold a bonnet to the lady with puffed sleeves. The lady with + puffed sleeves—a resident of “the Square,” whose name they had never + learned, because she always carried her own parcels home—was the + most distinguished and interesting figure on their horizon. She was + youngish, she was elegant (as the title they had given her implied), and + she had a sweet sad smile about which they had woven many histories; but + even the news of her return to town—it was her first apparition that + year—failed to arouse Ann Eliza's interest. All the small daily + happenings which had once sufficed to fill the hours now appeared to her + in their deadly insignificance; and for the first time in her long years + of drudgery she rebelled at the dullness of her life. With Evelina such + fits of discontent were habitual and openly proclaimed, and Ann Eliza + still excused them as one of the prerogatives of youth. Besides, Evelina + had not been intended by Providence to pine in such a narrow life: in the + original plan of things, she had been meant to marry and have a baby, to + wear silk on Sundays, and take a leading part in a Church circle. Hitherto + opportunity had played her false; and for all her superior aspirations and + carefully crimped hair she had remained as obscure and unsought as Ann + Eliza. But the elder sister, who had long since accepted her own fate, had + never accepted Evelina's. Once a pleasant young man who taught in + Sunday-school had paid the younger Miss Bunner a few shy visits. That was + years since, and he had speedily vanished from their view. Whether he had + carried with him any of Evelina's illusions, Ann Eliza had never + discovered; but his attentions had clad her sister in a halo of exquisite + possibilities. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, in those days, had never dreamed of allowing herself the luxury + of self-pity: it seemed as much a personal right of Evelina's as her + elaborately crinkled hair. But now she began to transfer to herself a + portion of the sympathy she had so long bestowed on Evelina. She had at + last recognized her right to set up some lost opportunities of her own; + and once that dangerous precedent established, they began to crowd upon + her memory. + </p> + <p> + It was at this stage of Ann Eliza's transformation that Evelina, looking + up one evening from her work, said suddenly: “My! She's stopped.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, raising her eyes from a brown merino seam, followed her + sister's glance across the room. It was a Monday, and they always wound + the clock on Sundays. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure you wound her yesterday, Evelina?” + </p> + <p> + “Jest as sure as I live. She must be broke. I'll go and see.” + </p> + <p> + Evelina laid down the hat she was trimming, and took the clock from its + shelf. + </p> + <p> + “There—I knew it! She's wound jest as <i>tight</i>—what you suppose's + happened to her, Ann Eliza?” + </p> + <p> + “I dunno, I'm sure,” said the elder sister, wiping her spectacles before + proceeding to a close examination of the clock. + </p> + <p> + With anxiously bent heads the two women shook and turned it, as though + they were trying to revive a living thing; but it remained unresponsive to + their touch, and at length Evelina laid it down with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Seems like somethin' <i>dead</i>, don't it, Ann Eliza? How still the room is!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'll put her back where she belongs,” Evelina continued, in the + tone of one about to perform the last offices for the departed. “And I + guess,” she added, “you'll have to step round to Mr. Ramy's to-morrow, and + see if he can fix her.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza's face burned. “I—yes, I guess I'll have to,” she + stammered, stooping to pick up a spool of cotton which had rolled to the + floor. A sudden heart-throb stretched the seams of her flat alpaca bosom, + and a pulse leapt to life in each of her temples. + </p> + <p> + That night, long after Evelina slept, Ann Eliza lay awake in the + unfamiliar silence, more acutely conscious of the nearness of the crippled + clock than when it had volubly told out the minutes. The next morning she + woke from a troubled dream of having carried it to Mr. Ramy's, and found + that he and his shop had vanished; and all through the day's occupations + the memory of this dream oppressed her. + </p> + <p> + It had been agreed that Ann Eliza should take the clock to be repaired as + soon as they had dined; but while they were still at table a weak-eyed + little girl in a black apron stabbed with innumerable pins burst in on + them with the cry: “Oh, Miss Bunner, for mercy's sake! Miss Mellins has + been took again.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Mellins was the dress-maker upstairs, and the weak-eyed child one of + her youthful apprentices. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza started from her seat. “I'll come at once. Quick, Evelina, the + cordial!” + </p> + <p> + By this euphemistic name the sisters designated a bottle of cherry brandy, + the last of a dozen inherited from their grandmother, which they kept + locked in their cupboard against such emergencies. A moment later, cordial + in hand, Ann Eliza was hurrying upstairs behind the weak-eyed child. + </p> + <p> + Miss Mellins' “turn” was sufficiently serious to detain Ann Eliza for + nearly two hours, and dusk had fallen when she took up the depleted bottle + of cordial and descended again to the shop. It was empty, as usual, and + Evelina sat at her pinking-machine in the back room. Ann Eliza was still + agitated by her efforts to restore the dress-maker, but in spite of her + preoccupation she was struck, as soon as she entered, by the loud tick of + the clock, which still stood on the shelf where she had left it. + </p> + <p> + “Why, she's going!” she gasped, before Evelina could question her about + Miss Mellins. “Did she start up again by herself?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no; but I couldn't stand not knowing what time it was, I've got so + accustomed to having her round; and just after you went upstairs Mrs. + Hawkins dropped in, so I asked her to tend the store for a minute, and I + clapped on my things and ran right round to Mr. Ramy's. It turned out + there wasn't anything the matter with her—nothin' on'y a speck of + dust in the works—and he fixed her for me in a minute and I brought + her right back. Ain't it lovely to hear her going again? But tell me about + Miss Mellins, quick!” + </p> + <p> + For a moment Ann Eliza found no words. Not till she learned that she had + missed her chance did she understand how many hopes had hung upon it. Even + now she did not know why she had wanted so much to see the clock-maker + again. + </p> + <p> + “I s'pose it's because nothing's ever happened to me,” she thought, with a + twinge of envy for the fate which gave Evelina every opportunity that came + their way. “She had the Sunday-school teacher too,” Ann Eliza murmured to + herself; but she was well-trained in the arts of renunciation, and after a + scarcely perceptible pause she plunged into a detailed description of the + dress-maker's “turn.” + </p> + <p> + Evelina, when her curiosity was roused, was an insatiable questioner, and + it was supper-time before she had come to the end of her enquiries about + Miss Mellins; but when the two sisters had seated themselves at their + evening meal Ann Eliza at last found a chance to say: “So she on'y had a + speck of dust in her.” + </p> + <p> + Evelina understood at once that the reference was not to Miss Mellins. + “Yes—at least he thinks so,” she answered, helping herself as a + matter of course to the first cup of tea. + </p> + <p> + “On'y to think!” murmured Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “But he isn't <i>sure</i>,” Evelina continued, absently pushing the teapot toward + her sister. “It may be something wrong with the—I forget what he + called it. Anyhow, he said he'd call round and see, day after to-morrow, + after supper.” + </p> + <p> + “Who said?” gasped Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Mr. Ramy, of course. I think he's real nice, Ann Eliza. And I don't + believe he's forty; but he <i>does</i> look sick. I guess he's pretty lonesome, + all by himself in that store. He as much as told me so, and somehow”—Evelina + paused and bridled—“I kinder thought that maybe his saying he'd call + round about the clock was on'y just an excuse. He said it just as I was + going out of the store. What you think, Ann Eliza?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't har'ly know.” To save herself, Ann Eliza could produce + nothing warmer. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't pretend to be smarter than other folks,” said Evelina, + putting a conscious hand to her hair, “but I guess Mr. Herman Ramy + wouldn't be sorry to pass an evening here, 'stead of spending it all alone + in that poky little place of his.” + </p> + <p> + Her self-consciousness irritated Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “I guess he's got plenty of friends of his own,” she said, almost harshly. + </p> + <p> + “No, he ain't, either. He's got hardly any.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he tell you that too?” Even to her own ears there was a faint sneer + in the interrogation. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he did,” said Evelina, dropping her lids with a smile. “He seemed to + be just crazy to talk to somebody—somebody agreeable, I mean. I + think the man's unhappy, Ann Eliza.” + </p> + <p> + “So do I,” broke from the elder sister. + </p> + <p> + “He seems such an educated man, too. He was reading the paper when I went + in. Ain't it sad to think of his being reduced to that little store, after + being years at Tiff'ny's, and one of the head men in their + clock-department?” + </p> + <p> + “He told you all that?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes. I think he'd a' told me everything ever happened to him if I'd + had the time to stay and listen. I tell you he's dead lonely, Ann Eliza.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III + </h2> + <p> + Two days afterward, Ann Eliza noticed that Evelina, before they sat down + to supper, pinned a crimson bow under her collar; and when the meal was + finished the younger sister, who seldom concerned herself with the + clearing of the table, set about with nervous haste to help Ann Eliza in + the removal of the dishes. + </p> + <p> + “I hate to see food mussing about,” she grumbled. “Ain't it hateful having + to do everything in one room?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Evelina, I've always thought we was so comfortable,” Ann Eliza + protested. + </p> + <p> + “Well, so we are, comfortable enough; but I don't suppose there's any harm + in my saying I wisht we had a parlour, is there? Anyway, we might manage + to buy a screen to hide the bed.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza coloured. There was something vaguely embarrassing in Evelina's + suggestion. + </p> + <p> + “I always think if we ask for more what we have may be taken from us,” she + ventured. + </p> + <p> + “Well, whoever took it wouldn't get much,” Evelina retorted with a laugh + as she swept up the table-cloth. + </p> + <p> + A few moments later the back room was in its usual flawless order and the + two sisters had seated themselves near the lamp. Ann Eliza had taken up + her sewing, and Evelina was preparing to make artificial flowers. The + sisters usually relegated this more delicate business to the long leisure + of the summer months; but to-night Evelina had brought out the box which + lay all winter under the bed, and spread before her a bright array of + muslin petals, yellow stamens and green corollas, and a tray of little + implements curiously suggestive of the dental art. Ann Eliza made no + remark on this unusual proceeding; perhaps she guessed why, for that + evening her sister had chosen a graceful task. + </p> + <p> + Presently a knock on the outer door made them look up; but Evelina, the + first on her feet, said promptly: “Sit still. I'll see who it is.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza was glad to sit still: the baby's petticoat that she was + stitching shook in her fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Sister, here's Mr. Ramy come to look at the clock,” said Evelina, a + moment later, in the high drawl she cultivated before strangers; and a + shortish man with a pale bearded face and upturned coat-collar came + stiffly into the room. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza let her work fall as she stood up. “You're very welcome, I'm + sure, Mr. Ramy. It's real kind of you to call.” + </p> + <p> + “Nod ad all, ma'am.” A tendency to illustrate Grimm's law in the + interchange of his consonants betrayed the clockmaker's nationality, but + he was evidently used to speaking English, or at least the particular + branch of the vernacular with which the Bunner sisters were familiar. “I + don't like to led any clock go out of my store without being sure it gives + satisfaction,” he added. + </p> + <p> + “Oh—but we were satisfied,” Ann Eliza assured him. + </p> + <p> + “But I wasn't, you see, ma'am,” said Mr. Ramy looking slowly about the + room, “nor I won't be, not till I see that clock's going all right.” + </p> + <p> + “May I assist you off with your coat, Mr. Ramy?” Evelina interposed. She + could never trust Ann Eliza to remember these opening ceremonies. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, ma'am,” he replied, and taking his thread-bare over-coat and + shabby hat she laid them on a chair with the gesture she imagined the lady + with the puffed sleeves might make use of on similar occasions. Ann + Eliza's social sense was roused, and she felt that the next act of + hospitality must be hers. “Won't you suit yourself to a seat?” she + suggested. “My sister will reach down the clock; but I'm sure she's all + right again. She's went beautiful ever since you fixed her.” + </p> + <p> + “Dat's good,” said Mr. Ramy. His lips parted in a smile which showed a row + of yellowish teeth with one or two gaps in it; but in spite of this + disclosure Ann Eliza thought his smile extremely pleasant: there was + something wistful and conciliating in it which agreed with the pathos of + his sunken cheeks and prominent eyes. As he took the lamp, the light fell + on his bulging forehead and wide skull thinly covered with grayish hair. + His hands were pale and broad, with knotty joints and square finger-tips + rimmed with grime; but his touch was as light as a woman's. + </p> + <p> + “Well, ladies, dat clock's all right,” he pronounced. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sure we're very much obliged to you,” said Evelina, throwing a glance + at her sister. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” Ann Eliza murmured, involuntarily answering the admonition. She + selected a key from the bunch that hung at her waist with her cutting-out + scissors, and fitting it into the lock of the cupboard, brought out the + cherry brandy and three old-fashioned glasses engraved with vine-wreaths. + </p> + <p> + “It's a very cold night,” she said, “and maybe you'd like a sip of this + cordial. It was made a great while ago by our grandmother.” + </p> + <p> + “It looks fine,” said Mr. Ramy bowing, and Ann Eliza filled the glasses. + In her own and Evelina's she poured only a few drops, but she filled their + guest's to the brim. “My sister and I seldom take wine,” she explained. + </p> + <p> + With another bow, which included both his hostesses, Mr. Ramy drank off + the cherry brandy and pronounced it excellent. + </p> + <p> + Evelina meanwhile, with an assumption of industry intended to put their + guest at ease, had taken up her instruments and was twisting a rose-petal + into shape. + </p> + <p> + “You make artificial flowers, I see, ma'am,” said Mr. Ramy with interest. + “It's very pretty work. I had a lady-vriend in Shermany dat used to make + flowers.” He put out a square finger-tip to touch the petal. + </p> + <p> + Evelina blushed a little. “You left Germany long ago, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear me yes, a goot while ago. I was only ninedeen when I come to the + States.” + </p> + <p> + After this the conversation dragged on intermittently till Mr. Ramy, + peering about the room with the short-sighted glance of his race, said + with an air of interest: “You're pleasantly fixed here; it looks real + cosy.” The note of wistfulness in his voice was obscurely moving to Ann + Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we live very plainly,” said Evelina, with an affectation of grandeur + deeply impressive to her sister. “We have very simple tastes.” + </p> + <p> + “You look real comfortable, anyhow,” said Mr. Ramy. His bulging eyes + seemed to muster the details of the scene with a gentle envy. “I wisht I + had as good a store; but I guess no blace seems home-like when you're + always alone in it.” + </p> + <p> + For some minutes longer the conversation moved on at this desultory pace, + and then Mr. Ramy, who had been obviously nerving himself for the + difficult act of departure, took his leave with an abruptness which would + have startled anyone used to the subtler gradations of intercourse. But to + Ann Eliza and her sister there was nothing surprising in his abrupt + retreat. The long-drawn agonies of preparing to leave, and the subsequent + dumb plunge through the door, were so usual in their circle that they + would have been as much embarrassed as Mr. Ramy if he had tried to put any + fluency into his adieux. + </p> + <p> + After he had left both sisters remained silent for a while; then Evelina, + laying aside her unfinished flower, said: “I'll go and lock up.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV + </h2> + <p> + Intolerably monotonous seemed now to the Bunner sisters the treadmill + routine of the shop, colourless and long their evenings about the lamp, + aimless their habitual interchange of words to the weary accompaniment of + the sewing and pinking machines. + </p> + <p> + It was perhaps with the idea of relieving the tension of their mood that + Evelina, the following Sunday, suggested inviting Miss Mellins to supper. + The Bunner sisters were not in a position to be lavish of the humblest + hospitality, but two or three times in the year they shared their evening + meal with a friend; and Miss Mellins, still flushed with the importance of + her “turn,” seemed the most interesting guest they could invite. + </p> + <p> + As the three women seated themselves at the supper-table, embellished by + the unwonted addition of pound cake and sweet pickles, the dress-maker's + sharp swarthy person stood out vividly between the neutral-tinted sisters. + Miss Mellins was a small woman with a glossy yellow face and a frizz of + black hair bristling with imitation tortoise-shell pins. Her sleeves had a + fashionable cut, and half a dozen metal bangles rattled on her wrists. Her + voice rattled like her bangles as she poured forth a stream of anecdote + and ejaculation; and her round black eyes jumped with acrobatic velocity + from one face to another. Miss Mellins was always having or hearing of + amazing adventures. She had surprised a burglar in her room at midnight + (though how he got there, what he robbed her of, and by what means he + escaped had never been quite clear to her auditors); she had been warned + by anonymous letters that her grocer (a rejected suitor) was putting + poison in her tea; she had a customer who was shadowed by detectives, and + another (a very wealthy lady) who had been arrested in a department store + for kleptomania; she had been present at a spiritualist seance where an + old gentleman had died in a fit on seeing a materialization of his + mother-in-law; she had escaped from two fires in her night-gown, and at + the funeral of her first cousin the horses attached to the hearse had run + away and smashed the coffin, precipitating her relative into an open + man-hole before the eyes of his distracted family. + </p> + <p> + A sceptical observer might have explained Miss Mellins's proneness to + adventure by the fact that she derived her chief mental nourishment from + the Police Gazette and the Fireside Weekly; but her lot was cast in a + circle where such insinuations were not likely to be heard, and where the + title-role in blood-curdling drama had long been her recognized right. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she was now saying, her emphatic eyes on Ann Eliza, “you may not + believe it, Miss Bunner, and I don't know's I should myself if anybody + else was to tell me, but over a year before ever I was born, my mother she + went to see a gypsy fortune-teller that was exhibited in a tent on the + Battery with the green-headed lady, though her father warned her not to—and + what you s'pose she told her? Why, she told her these very words—says + she: 'Your next child'll be a girl with jet-black curls, and she'll suffer + from spasms.'” + </p> + <p> + “Mercy!” murmured Ann Eliza, a ripple of sympathy running down her spine. + </p> + <p> + “D'you ever have spasms before, Miss Mellins?” Evelina asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, ma'am,” the dress-maker declared. “And where'd you suppose I had + 'em? Why, at my cousin Emma McIntyre's wedding, her that married the + apothecary over in Jersey City, though her mother appeared to her in a + dream and told her she'd rue the day she done it, but as Emma said, she + got more advice than she wanted from the living, and if she was to listen + to spectres too she'd never be sure what she'd ought to do and what she'd + oughtn't; but I will say her husband took to drink, and she never was the + same woman after her fust baby—well, they had an elegant church + wedding, and what you s'pose I saw as I was walkin' up the aisle with the + wedding percession?” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” Ann Eliza whispered, forgetting to thread her needle. + </p> + <p> + “Why, a coffin, to be sure, right on the top step of the chancel—Emma's + folks is 'piscopalians and she would have a church wedding, though <i>his</i> + mother raised a terrible rumpus over it—well, there it set, right in + front of where the minister stood that was going to marry 'em, a coffin + covered with a black velvet pall with a gold fringe, and a 'Gates Ajar' in + white camellias atop of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Goodness,” said Evelina, starting, “there's a knock!” + </p> + <p> + “Who can it be?” shuddered Ann Eliza, still under the spell of Miss + Mellins's hallucination. + </p> + <p> + Evelina rose and lit a candle to guide her through the shop. They heard + her turn the key of the outer door, and a gust of night air stirred the + close atmosphere of the back room; then there was a sound of vivacious + exclamations, and Evelina returned with Mr. Ramy. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza's heart rocked like a boat in a heavy sea, and the dress-maker's + eyes, distended with curiosity, sprang eagerly from face to face. + </p> + <p> + “I just thought I'd call in again,” said Mr. Ramy, evidently somewhat + disconcerted by the presence of Miss Mellins. “Just to see how the clock's + behaving,” he added with his hollow-cheeked smile. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she's behaving beautiful,” said Ann Eliza; “but we're real glad to + see you all the same. Miss Mellins, let me make you acquainted with Mr. + Ramy.” + </p> + <p> + The dress-maker tossed back her head and dropped her lids in condescending + recognition of the stranger's presence; and Mr. Ramy responded by an + awkward bow. After the first moment of constraint a renewed sense of + satisfaction filled the consciousness of the three women. The Bunner + sisters were not sorry to let Miss Mellins see that they received an + occasional evening visit, and Miss Mellins was clearly enchanted at the + opportunity of pouring her latest tale into a new ear. As for Mr. Ramy, he + adjusted himself to the situation with greater ease than might have been + expected, and Evelina, who had been sorry that he should enter the room + while the remains of supper still lingered on the table, blushed with + pleasure at his good-humored offer to help her “glear away.” + </p> + <p> + The table cleared, Ann Eliza suggested a game of cards; and it was after + eleven o'clock when Mr. Ramy rose to take leave. His adieux were so much + less abrupt than on the occasion of his first visit that Evelina was able + to satisfy her sense of etiquette by escorting him, candle in hand, to the + outer door; and as the two disappeared into the shop Miss Mellins + playfully turned to Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, Miss Bunner,” she murmured, jerking her chin in the direction + of the retreating figures, “I'd no idea your sister was keeping company. + On'y to think!” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, roused from a state of dreamy beatitude, turned her timid eyes + on the dress-maker. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you're mistaken, Miss Mellins. We don't har'ly know Mr. Ramy.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Mellins smiled incredulously. “You go 'long, Miss Bunner. I guess + there'll be a wedding somewheres round here before spring, and I'll be + real offended if I ain't asked to make the dress. I've always seen her in + a gored satin with rooshings.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza made no answer. She had grown very pale, and her eyes lingered + searchingly on Evelina as the younger sister re-entered the room. + Evelina's cheeks were pink, and her blue eyes glittered; but it seemed to + Ann Eliza that the coquettish tilt of her head regrettably emphasized the + weakness of her receding chin. It was the first time that Ann Eliza had + ever seen a flaw in her sister's beauty, and her involuntary criticism + startled her like a secret disloyalty. + </p> + <p> + That night, after the light had been put out, the elder sister knelt + longer than usual at her prayers. In the silence of the darkened room she + was offering up certain dreams and aspirations whose brief blossoming had + lent a transient freshness to her days. She wondered now how she could + ever have supposed that Mr. Ramy's visits had another cause than the one + Miss Mellins suggested. Had not the sight of Evelina first inspired him + with a sudden solicitude for the welfare of the clock? And what charms but + Evelina's could have induced him to repeat his visit? Grief held up its + torch to the frail fabric of Ann Eliza's illusions, and with a firm heart + she watched them shrivel into ashes; then, rising from her knees full of + the chill joy of renunciation, she laid a kiss on the crimping pins of the + sleeping Evelina and crept under the bedspread at her side. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V + </h2> + <p> + During the months that followed, Mr. Ramy visited the sisters with + increasing frequency. It became his habit to call on them every Sunday + evening, and occasionally during the week he would find an excuse for + dropping in unannounced as they were settling down to their work beside + the lamp. Ann Eliza noticed that Evelina now took the precaution of + putting on her crimson bow every evening before supper, and that she had + refurbished with a bit of carefully washed lace the black silk which they + still called new because it had been bought a year after Ann Eliza's. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ramy, as he grew more intimate, became less conversational, and after + the sisters had blushingly accorded him the privilege of a pipe he began + to permit himself long stretches of meditative silence that were not + without charm to his hostesses. There was something at once fortifying and + pacific in the sense of that tranquil male presence in an atmosphere which + had so long quivered with little feminine doubts and distresses; and the + sisters fell into the habit of saying to each other, in moments of + uncertainty: “We'll ask Mr. Ramy when he comes,” and of accepting his + verdict, whatever it might be, with a fatalistic readiness that relieved + them of all responsibility. + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Ramy drew the pipe from his mouth and became, in his turn, + confidential, the acuteness of their sympathy grew almost painful to the + sisters. With passionate participation they listened to the story of his + early struggles in Germany, and of the long illness which had been the + cause of his recent misfortunes. The name of the Mrs. Hochmuller (an old + comrade's widow) who had nursed him through his fever was greeted with + reverential sighs and an inward pang of envy whenever it recurred in his + biographical monologues, and once when the sisters were alone Evelina + called a responsive flush to Ann Eliza's brow by saying suddenly, without + the mention of any name: “I wonder what she's like?” + </p> + <p> + One day toward spring Mr. Ramy, who had by this time become as much a part + of their lives as the letter-carrier or the milkman, ventured the + suggestion that the ladies should accompany him to an exhibition of + stereopticon views which was to take place at Chickering Hall on the + following evening. + </p> + <p> + After their first breathless “Oh!” of pleasure there was a silence of + mutual consultation, which Ann Eliza at last broke by saying: “You better + go with Mr. Ramy, Evelina. I guess we don't both want to leave the store + at night.” + </p> + <p> + Evelina, with such protests as politeness demanded, acquiesced in this + opinion, and spent the next day in trimming a white chip bonnet with + forget-me-nots of her own making. Ann Eliza brought out her mosaic brooch, + a cashmere scarf of their mother's was taken from its linen cerements, and + thus adorned Evelina blushingly departed with Mr. Ramy, while the elder + sister sat down in her place at the pinking-machine. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to Ann Eliza that she was alone for hours, and she was + surprised, when she heard Evelina tap on the door, to find that the clock + marked only half-past ten. + </p> + <p> + “It must have gone wrong again,” she reflected as she rose to let her + sister in. + </p> + <p> + The evening had been brilliantly interesting, and several striking + stereopticon views of Berlin had afforded Mr. Ramy the opportunity of + enlarging on the marvels of his native city. + </p> + <p> + “He said he'd love to show it all to me!” Evelina declared as Ann Eliza + conned her glowing face. “Did you ever hear anything so silly? I didn't + know which way to look.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza received this confidence with a sympathetic murmur. + </p> + <p> + “My bonnet <i>is</i> becoming, isn't it?” Evelina went on irrelevantly, smiling + at her reflection in the cracked glass above the chest of drawers. + </p> + <p> + “You're jest lovely,” said Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + Spring was making itself unmistakably known to the distrustful New Yorker + by an increased harshness of wind and prevalence of dust, when one day + Evelina entered the back room at supper-time with a cluster of jonquils in + her hand. + </p> + <p> + “I was just that foolish,” she answered Ann Eliza's wondering glance, “I + couldn't help buyin' 'em. I felt as if I must have something pretty to + look at right away.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sister,” said Ann Eliza, in trembling sympathy. She felt that special + indulgence must be conceded to those in Evelina's state since she had had + her own fleeting vision of such mysterious longings as the words betrayed. + </p> + <p> + Evelina, meanwhile, had taken the bundle of dried grasses out of the + broken china vase, and was putting the jonquils in their place with + touches that lingered down their smooth stems and blade-like leaves. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't they pretty?” she kept repeating as she gathered the flowers into a + starry circle. “Seems as if spring was really here, don't it?” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza remembered that it was Mr. Ramy's evening. + </p> + <p> + When he came, the Teutonic eye for anything that blooms made him turn at + once to the jonquils. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't dey pretty?” he said. “Seems like as if de spring was really here.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't it?” Evelina exclaimed, thrilled by the coincidence of their + thought. “It's just what I was saying to my sister.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza got up suddenly and moved away; she remembered that she had not + wound the clock the day before. Evelina was sitting at the table; the + jonquils rose slenderly between herself and Mr. Ramy. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” she murmured with vague eyes, “how I'd love to get away somewheres + into the country this very minute—somewheres where it was green and + quiet. Seems as if I couldn't stand the city another day.” But Ann Eliza + noticed that she was looking at Mr. Ramy, and not at the flowers. + </p> + <p> + “I guess we might go to Cendral Park some Sunday,” their visitor + suggested. “Do you ever go there, Miss Evelina?” + </p> + <p> + “No, we don't very often; leastways we ain't been for a good while.” She + sparkled at the prospect. “It would be lovely, wouldn't it, Ann Eliza?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes,” said the elder sister, coming back to her seat. + </p> + <p> + “Well, why don't we go next Sunday?” Mr. Ramy continued. “And we'll invite + Miss Mellins too—that'll make a gosy little party.” + </p> + <p> + That night when Evelina undressed she took a jonquil from the vase and + pressed it with a certain ostentation between the leaves of her + prayer-book. Ann Eliza, covertly observing her, felt that Evelina was not + sorry to be observed, and that her own acute consciousness of the act was + somehow regarded as magnifying its significance. + </p> + <p> + The following Sunday broke blue and warm. The Bunner sisters were habitual + church-goers, but for once they left their prayer-books on the what-not, + and ten o'clock found them, gloved and bonneted, awaiting Miss Mellins's + knock. Miss Mellins presently appeared in a glitter of jet sequins and + spangles, with a tale of having seen a strange man prowling under her + windows till he was called off at dawn by a confederate's whistle; and + shortly afterward came Mr. Ramy, his hair brushed with more than usual + care, his broad hands encased in gloves of olive-green kid. + </p> + <p> + The little party set out for the nearest street-car, and a flutter of + mingled gratification and embarrassment stirred Ann Eliza's bosom when it + was found that Mr. Ramy intended to pay their fares. Nor did he fail to + live up to this opening liberality; for after guiding them through the + Mall and the Ramble he led the way to a rustic restaurant where, also at + his expense, they fared idyllically on milk and lemon-pie. + </p> + <p> + After this they resumed their walk, strolling on with the slowness of + unaccustomed holiday-makers from one path to another—through budding + shrubberies, past grass-banks sprinkled with lilac crocuses, and under + rocks on which the forsythia lay like sudden sunshine. Everything about + her seemed new and miraculously lovely to Ann Eliza; but she kept her + feelings to herself, leaving it to Evelina to exclaim at the hepaticas + under the shady ledges, and to Miss Mellins, less interested in the + vegetable than in the human world, to remark significantly on the probable + history of the persons they met. All the alleys were thronged with + promenaders and obstructed by perambulators; and Miss Mellins's running + commentary threw a glare of lurid possibilities over the placid family + groups and their romping progeny. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza was in no mood for such interpretations of life; but, knowing + that Miss Mellins had been invited for the sole purpose of keeping her + company she continued to cling to the dress-maker's side, letting Mr. Ramy + lead the way with Evelina. Miss Mellins, stimulated by the excitement of + the occasion, grew more and more discursive, and her ceaseless talk, and + the kaleidoscopic whirl of the crowd, were unspeakably bewildering to Ann + Eliza. Her feet, accustomed to the slippered ease of the shop, ached with + the unfamiliar effort of walking, and her ears with the din of the + dress-maker's anecdotes; but every nerve in her was aware of Evelina's + enjoyment, and she was determined that no weariness of hers should curtail + it. Yet even her heroism shrank from the significant glances which Miss + Mellins presently began to cast at the couple in front of them: Ann Eliza + could bear to connive at Evelina's bliss, but not to acknowledge it to + others. + </p> + <p> + At length Evelina's feet also failed her, and she turned to suggest that + they ought to be going home. Her flushed face had grown pale with fatigue, + but her eyes were radiant. + </p> + <p> + The return lived in Ann Eliza's memory with the persistence of an evil + dream. The horse-cars were packed with the returning throng, and they had + to let a dozen go by before they could push their way into one that was + already crowded. Ann Eliza had never before felt so tired. Even Miss + Mellins's flow of narrative ran dry, and they sat silent, wedged between a + negro woman and a pock-marked man with a bandaged head, while the car + rumbled slowly down a squalid avenue to their corner. Evelina and Mr. Ramy + sat together in the forward part of the car, and Ann Eliza could catch + only an occasional glimpse of the forget-me-not bonnet and the + clock-maker's shiny coat-collar; but when the little party got out at + their corner the crowd swept them together again, and they walked back in + the effortless silence of tired children to the Bunner sisters' basement. + As Miss Mellins and Mr. Ramy turned to go their various ways Evelina + mustered a last display of smiles; but Ann Eliza crossed the threshold in + silence, feeling the stillness of the little shop reach out to her like + consoling arms. + </p> + <p> + That night she could not sleep; but as she lay cold and rigid at her + sister's side, she suddenly felt the pressure of Evelina's arms, and heard + her whisper: “Oh, Ann Eliza, warn't it heavenly?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI + </h2> + <p> + For four days after their Sunday in the Park the Bunner sisters had no + news of Mr. Ramy. At first neither one betrayed her disappointment and + anxiety to the other; but on the fifth morning Evelina, always the first + to yield to her feelings, said, as she turned from her untasted tea: “I + thought you'd oughter take that money out by now, Ann Eliza.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza understood and reddened. The winter had been a fairly prosperous + one for the sisters, and their slowly accumulated savings had now reached + the handsome sum of two hundred dollars; but the satisfaction they might + have felt in this unwonted opulence had been clouded by a suggestion of + Miss Mellins's that there were dark rumours concerning the savings bank in + which their funds were deposited. They knew Miss Mellins was given to vain + alarms; but her words, by the sheer force of repetition, had so shaken Ann + Eliza's peace that after long hours of midnight counsel the sisters had + decided to advise with Mr. Ramy; and on Ann Eliza, as the head of the + house, this duty had devolved. Mr. Ramy, when consulted, had not only + confirmed the dress-maker's report, but had offered to find some safe + investment which should give the sisters a higher rate of interest than + the suspected savings bank; and Ann Eliza knew that Evelina alluded to the + suggested transfer. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, to be sure,” she agreed. “Mr. Ramy said if he was us he + wouldn't want to leave his money there any longer'n he could help.” + </p> + <p> + “It was over a week ago he said it,” Evelina reminded her. + </p> + <p> + “I know; but he told me to wait till he'd found out for sure about that + other investment; and we ain't seen him since then.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza's words released their secret fear. “I wonder what's happened to + him,” Evelina said. “You don't suppose he could be sick?” + </p> + <p> + “I was wondering too,” Ann Eliza rejoined; and the sisters looked down at + their plates. + </p> + <p> + “I should think you'd oughter do something about that money pretty soon,” + Evelina began again. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I know I'd oughter. What would you do if you was me?” + </p> + <p> + “If I was <i>you</i>,” said her sister, with perceptible emphasis and a rising + blush, “I'd go right round and see if Mr. Ramy was sick. <i>You</i> could.” + </p> + <p> + The words pierced Ann Eliza like a blade. “Yes, that's so,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “It would only seem friendly, if he really <i>is</i> sick. If I was you I'd go + to-day,” Evelina continued; and after dinner Ann Eliza went. + </p> + <p> + On the way she had to leave a parcel at the dyer's, and having performed + that errand she turned toward Mr. Ramy's shop. Never before had she felt + so old, so hopeless and humble. She knew she was bound on a love-errand of + Evelina's, and the knowledge seemed to dry the last drop of young blood in + her veins. It took from her, too, all her faded virginal shyness; and with + a brisk composure she turned the handle of the clock-maker's door. + </p> + <p> + But as she entered her heart began to tremble, for she saw Mr. Ramy, his + face hidden in his hands, sitting behind the counter in an attitude of + strange dejection. At the click of the latch he looked up slowly, fixing a + lustreless stare on Ann Eliza. For a moment she thought he did not know + her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you're sick!” she exclaimed; and the sound of her voice seemed to + recall his wandering senses. + </p> + <p> + “Why, if it ain't Miss Bunner!” he said, in a low thick tone; but he made + no attempt to move, and she noticed that his face was the colour of yellow + ashes. + </p> + <p> + “You <i>are</i> sick,” she persisted, emboldened by his evident need of help. + “Mr. Ramy, it was real unfriendly of you not to let us know.” + </p> + <p> + He continued to look at her with dull eyes. “I ain't been sick,” he said. + “Leastways not very: only one of my old turns.” He spoke in a slow + laboured way, as if he had difficulty in getting his words together. + </p> + <p> + “Rheumatism?” she ventured, seeing how unwillingly he seemed to move. + </p> + <p> + “Well—somethin' like, maybe. I couldn't hardly put a name to it.” + </p> + <p> + “If it <i>was</i> anything like rheumatism, my grandmother used to make a tea—” + Ann Eliza began: she had forgotten, in the warmth of the moment, that she + had only come as Evelina's messenger. + </p> + <p> + At the mention of tea an expression of uncontrollable repugnance passed + over Mr. Ramy's face. “Oh, I guess I'm getting on all right. I've just got + a headache to-day.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza's courage dropped at the note of refusal in his voice. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry,” she said gently. “My sister and me'd have been glad to do + anything we could for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you kindly,” said Mr. Ramy wearily; then, as she turned to the + door, he added with an effort: “Maybe I'll step round to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “We'll be real glad,” Ann Eliza repeated. Her eyes were fixed on a dusty + bronze clock in the window. She was unaware of looking at it at the time, + but long afterward she remembered that it represented a Newfoundland dog + with his paw on an open book. + </p> + <p> + When she reached home there was a purchaser in the shop, turning over + hooks and eyes under Evelina's absent-minded supervision. Ann Eliza passed + hastily into the back room, but in an instant she heard her sister at her + side. + </p> + <p> + “Quick! I told her I was goin' to look for some smaller hooks—how is + he?” Evelina gasped. + </p> + <p> + “He ain't been very well,” said Ann Eliza slowly, her eyes on Evelina's + eager face; “but he says he'll be sure to be round to-morrow night.” + </p> + <p> + “He will? Are you telling me the truth?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Evelina Bunner!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't care!” cried the younger recklessly, rushing back into the + shop. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza stood burning with the shame of Evelina's self-exposure. She was + shocked that, even to her, Evelina should lay bare the nakedness of her + emotion; and she tried to turn her thoughts from it as though its + recollection made her a sharer in her sister's debasement. + </p> + <p> + The next evening, Mr. Ramy reappeared, still somewhat sallow and + red-lidded, but otherwise his usual self. Ann Eliza consulted him about + the investment he had recommended, and after it had been settled that he + should attend to the matter for her he took up the illustrated volume of + Longfellow—for, as the sisters had learned, his culture soared + beyond the newspapers—and read aloud, with a fine confusion of + consonants, the poem on “Maidenhood.” Evelina lowered her lids while he + read. It was a very beautiful evening, and Ann Eliza thought afterward how + different life might have been with a companion who read poetry like Mr. + Ramy. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII + </h2> + <p> + During the ensuing weeks Mr. Ramy, though his visits were as frequent as + ever, did not seem to regain his usual spirits. He complained frequently + of headache, but rejected Ann Eliza's tentatively proffered remedies, and + seemed to shrink from any prolonged investigation of his symptoms. July + had come, with a sudden ardour of heat, and one evening, as the three sat + together by the open window in the back room, Evelina said: “I dunno what + I wouldn't give, a night like this, for a breath of real country air.” + </p> + <p> + “So would I,” said Mr. Ramy, knocking the ashes from his pipe. “I'd like + to be setting in an arbour dis very minute.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, wouldn't it be lovely?” + </p> + <p> + “I always think it's real cool here—we'd be heaps hotter up where + Miss Mellins is,” said Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I daresay—but we'd be heaps cooler somewhere else,” her sister + snapped: she was not infrequently exasperated by Ann Eliza's furtive + attempts to mollify Providence. + </p> + <p> + A few days later Mr. Ramy appeared with a suggestion which enchanted + Evelina. He had gone the day before to see his friend, Mrs. Hochmuller, + who lived in the outskirts of Hoboken, and Mrs. Hochmuller had proposed + that on the following Sunday he should bring the Bunner sisters to spend + the day with her. + </p> + <p> + “She's got a real garden, you know,” Mr. Ramy explained, “wid trees and a + real summer-house to set in; and hens and chickens too. And it's an + elegant sail over on de ferry-boat.” + </p> + <p> + The proposal drew no response from Ann Eliza. She was still oppressed by + the recollection of her interminable Sunday in the Park; but, obedient to + Evelina's imperious glance, she finally faltered out an acceptance. + </p> + <p> + The Sunday was a very hot one, and once on the ferry-boat Ann Eliza + revived at the touch of the salt breeze, and the spectacle of the crowded + waters; but when they reached the other shore, and stepped out on the + dirty wharf, she began to ache with anticipated weariness. They got into a + street-car, and were jolted from one mean street to another, till at + length Mr. Ramy pulled the conductor's sleeve and they got out again; then + they stood in the blazing sun, near the door of a crowded beer-saloon, + waiting for another car to come; and that carried them out to a thinly + settled district, past vacant lots and narrow brick houses standing in + unsupported solitude, till they finally reached an almost rural region of + scattered cottages and low wooden buildings that looked like village + “stores.” Here the car finally stopped of its own accord, and they walked + along a rutty road, past a stone-cutter's yard with a high fence + tapestried with theatrical advertisements, to a little red house with + green blinds and a garden paling. Really, Mr. Ramy had not deceived them. + Clumps of dielytra and day-lilies bloomed behind the paling, and a crooked + elm hung romantically over the gable of the house. + </p> + <p> + At the gate Mrs. Hochmuller, a broad woman in brick-brown merino, met them + with nods and smiles, while her daughter Linda, a flaxen-haired girl with + mottled red cheeks and a sidelong stare, hovered inquisitively behind her. + Mrs. Hochmuller, leading the way into the house, conducted the Bunner + sisters the way to her bedroom. Here they were invited to spread out on a + mountainous white featherbed the cashmere mantles under which the + solemnity of the occasion had compelled them to swelter, and when they had + given their black silks the necessary twitch of readjustment, and Evelina + had fluffed out her hair before a looking-glass framed in pink-shell work, + their hostess led them to a stuffy parlour smelling of gingerbread. After + another ceremonial pause, broken by polite enquiries and shy ejaculations, + they were shown into the kitchen, where the table was already spread with + strange-looking spice-cakes and stewed fruits, and where they presently + found themselves seated between Mrs. Hochmuller and Mr. Ramy, while the + staring Linda bumped back and forth from the stove with steaming dishes. + </p> + <p> + To Ann Eliza the dinner seemed endless, and the rich fare strangely + unappetizing. She was abashed by the easy intimacy of her hostess's voice + and eye. With Mr. Ramy Mrs. Hochmuller was almost flippantly familiar, and + it was only when Ann Eliza pictured her generous form bent above his + sick-bed that she could forgive her for tersely addressing him as “Ramy.” + During one of the pauses of the meal Mrs. Hochmuller laid her knife and + fork against the edges of her plate, and, fixing her eyes on the + clock-maker's face, said accusingly: “You hat one of dem turns again, + Ramy.” + </p> + <p> + “I dunno as I had,” he returned evasively. + </p> + <p> + Evelina glanced from one to the other. “Mr. Ramy <i>has</i> been sick,” she said + at length, as though to show that she also was in a position to speak with + authority. “He's complained very frequently of headaches.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho!—I know him,” said Mrs. Hochmuller with a laugh, her eyes still + on the clock-maker. “Ain't you ashamed of yourself, Ramy?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ramy, who was looking at his plate, said suddenly one word which the + sisters could not understand; it sounded to Ann Eliza like “Shwike.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hochmuller laughed again. “My, my,” she said, “wouldn't you think + he'd be ashamed to go and be sick and never dell me, me that nursed him + troo dat awful fever?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I <i>should</i>,” said Evelina, with a spirited glance at Ramy; but he was + looking at the sausages that Linda had just put on the table. + </p> + <p> + When dinner was over Mrs. Hochmuller invited her guests to step out of the + kitchen-door, and they found themselves in a green enclosure, half garden, + half orchard. Grey hens followed by golden broods clucked under the + twisted apple-boughs, a cat dozed on the edge of an old well, and from + tree to tree ran the network of clothes-line that denoted Mrs. + Hochmuller's calling. Beyond the apple trees stood a yellow summer-house + festooned with scarlet runners; and below it, on the farther side of a + rough fence, the land dipped down, holding a bit of woodland in its + hollow. It was all strangely sweet and still on that hot Sunday afternoon, + and as she moved across the grass under the apple-boughs Ann Eliza thought + of quiet afternoons in church, and of the hymns her mother had sung to her + when she was a baby. + </p> + <p> + Evelina was more restless. She wandered from the well to the summer-house + and back, she tossed crumbs to the chickens and disturbed the cat with + arch caresses; and at last she expressed a desire to go down into the + wood. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you got to go round by the road, then,” said Mrs. Hochmuller. “My + Linda she goes troo a hole in de fence, but I guess you'd tear your dress + if you was to dry.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll help you,” said Mr. Ramy; and guided by Linda the pair walked along + the fence till they reached a narrow gap in its boards. Through this they + disappeared, watched curiously in their descent by the grinning Linda, + while Mrs. Hochmuller and Ann Eliza were left alone in the summer-house. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hochmuller looked at her guest with a confidential smile. “I guess + dey'll be gone quite a while,” she remarked, jerking her double chin + toward the gap in the fence. “Folks like dat don't never remember about de + dime.” And she drew out her knitting. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza could think of nothing to say. + </p> + <p> + “Your sister she thinks a great lot of him, don't she?” her hostess + continued. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza's cheeks grew hot. “Ain't you a teeny bit lonesome away out here + sometimes?” she asked. “I should think you'd be scared nights, all alone + with your daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, I ain't,” said Mrs. Hochmuller. “You see I take in washing—dat's + my business—and it's a lot cheaper doing it out here dan in de city: + where'd I get a drying-ground like dis in Hobucken? And den it's safer for + Linda too; it geeps her outer de streets.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Ann Eliza, shrinking. She began to feel a distinct aversion for + her hostess, and her eyes turned with involuntary annoyance to the + square-backed form of Linda, still inquisitively suspended on the fence. + It seemed to Ann Eliza that Evelina and her companion would never return + from the wood; but they came at length, Mr. Ramy's brow pearled with + perspiration, Evelina pink and conscious, a drooping bunch of ferns in her + hand; and it was clear that, to her at least, the moments had been winged. + </p> + <p> + “D'you suppose they'll revive?” she asked, holding up the ferns; but Ann + Eliza, rising at her approach, said stiffly: “We'd better be getting home, + Evelina.” + </p> + <p> + “Mercy me! Ain't you going to take your coffee first?” Mrs. Hochmuller + protested; and Ann Eliza found to her dismay that another long gastronomic + ceremony must intervene before politeness permitted them to leave. At + length, however, they found themselves again on the ferry-boat. Water and + sky were grey, with a dividing gleam of sunset that sent sleek opal waves + in the boat's wake. The wind had a cool tarry breath, as though it had + travelled over miles of shipping, and the hiss of the water about the + paddles was as delicious as though it had been splashed into their tired + faces. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza sat apart, looking away from the others. She had made up her + mind that Mr. Ramy had proposed to Evelina in the wood, and she was + silently preparing herself to receive her sister's confidence that + evening. + </p> + <p> + But Evelina was apparently in no mood for confidences. When they reached + home she put her faded ferns in water, and after supper, when she had laid + aside her silk dress and the forget-me-not bonnet, she remained silently + seated in her rocking-chair near the open window. It was long since Ann + Eliza had seen her in so uncommunicative a mood. + </p> + <p> + The following Saturday Ann Eliza was sitting alone in the shop when the + door opened and Mr. Ramy entered. He had never before called at that hour, + and she wondered a little anxiously what had brought him. + </p> + <p> + “Has anything happened?” she asked, pushing aside the basketful of buttons + she had been sorting. + </p> + <p> + “Not's I know of,” said Mr. Ramy tranquilly. “But I always close up the + store at two o'clock Saturdays at this season, so I thought I might as + well call round and see you.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm real glad, I'm sure,” said Ann Eliza; “but Evelina's out.” + </p> + <p> + “I know dat,” Mr. Ramy answered. “I met her round de corner. She told me + she got to go to dat new dyer's up in Forty-eighth Street. She won't be + back for a couple of hours, har'ly, will she?” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza looked at him with rising bewilderment. “No, I guess not,” she + answered; her instinctive hospitality prompting her to add: “Won't you set + down jest the same?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ramy sat down on the stool beside the counter, and Ann Eliza returned + to her place behind it. + </p> + <p> + “I can't leave the store,” she explained. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess we're very well here.” Ann Eliza had become suddenly aware + that Mr. Ramy was looking at her with unusual intentness. Involuntarily + her hand strayed to the thin streaks of hair on her temples, and thence + descended to straighten the brooch beneath her collar. + </p> + <p> + “You're looking very well to-day, Miss Bunner,” said Mr. Ramy, following + her gesture with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Ann Eliza nervously. “I'm always well in health,” she added. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you're healthier than your sister, even if you are less + sizeable.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't know. Evelina's a mite nervous sometimes, but she ain't a bit + sickly.” + </p> + <p> + “She eats heartier than you do; but that don't mean nothing,” said Mr. + Ramy. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza was silent. She could not follow the trend of his thought, and + she did not care to commit herself farther about Evelina before she had + ascertained if Mr. Ramy considered nervousness interesting or the reverse. + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Ramy spared her all farther indecision. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Miss Bunner,” he said, drawing his stool closer to the counter, “I + guess I might as well tell you fust as last what I come here for to-day. I + want to get married.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, in many a prayerful midnight hour, had sought to strengthen + herself for the hearing of this avowal, but now that it had come she felt + pitifully frightened and unprepared. Mr. Ramy was leaning with both elbows + on the counter, and she noticed that his nails were clean and that he had + brushed his hat; yet even these signs had not prepared her! + </p> + <p> + At last she heard herself say, with a dry throat in which her heart was + hammering: “Mercy me, Mr. Ramy!” + </p> + <p> + “I want to get married,” he repeated. “I'm too lonesome. It ain't good for + a man to live all alone, and eat noding but cold meat every day.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Ann Eliza softly. + </p> + <p> + “And the dust fairly beats me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the dust—I know!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ramy stretched one of his blunt-fingered hands toward her. “I wisht + you'd take me.” + </p> + <p> + Still Ann Eliza did not understand. She rose hesitatingly from her seat, + pushing aside the basket of buttons which lay between them; then she + perceived that Mr. Ramy was trying to take her hand, and as their fingers + met a flood of joy swept over her. Never afterward, though every other + word of their interview was stamped on her memory beyond all possible + forgetting, could she recall what he said while their hands touched; she + only knew that she seemed to be floating on a summer sea, and that all its + waves were in her ears. + </p> + <p> + “Me—me?” she gasped. + </p> + <p> + “I guess so,” said her suitor placidly. “You suit me right down to the + ground, Miss Bunner. Dat's the truth.” + </p> + <p> + A woman passing along the street paused to look at the shop-window, and + Ann Eliza half hoped she would come in; but after a desultory inspection + she went on. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe you don't fancy me?” Mr. Ramy suggested, discountenanced by Ann + Eliza's silence. + </p> + <p> + A word of assent was on her tongue, but her lips refused it. She must find + some other way of telling him. + </p> + <p> + “I don't say that.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I always kinder thought we was suited to one another,” Mr. Ramy + continued, eased of his momentary doubt. “I always liked de quiet style—no + fuss and airs, and not afraid of work.” He spoke as though dispassionately + cataloguing her charms. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza felt that she must make an end. “But, Mr. Ramy, you don't + understand. I've never thought of marrying.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ramy looked at her in surprise. “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't know, har'ly.” She moistened her twitching lips. “The fact + is, I ain't as active as I look. Maybe I couldn't stand the care. I ain't + as spry as Evelina—nor as young,” she added, with a last great + effort. + </p> + <p> + “But you do most of de work here, anyways,” said her suitor doubtfully. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, that's because Evelina's busy outside; and where there's only + two women the work don't amount to much. Besides, I'm the oldest; I have + to look after things,” she hastened on, half pained that her simple ruse + should so readily deceive him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess you're active enough for me,” he persisted. His calm + determination began to frighten her; she trembled lest her own should be + less staunch. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” she repeated, feeling the tears on her lashes. “I couldn't, Mr. + Ramy, I couldn't marry. I'm so surprised. I always thought it was Evelina—always. + And so did everybody else. She's so bright and pretty—it seemed so + natural.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you was all mistaken,” said Mr. Ramy obstinately. + </p> + <p> + “I'm so sorry.” + </p> + <p> + He rose, pushing back his chair. + </p> + <p> + “You'd better think it over,” he said, in the large tone of a man who + feels he may safely wait. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, no. It ain't any sorter use, Mr. Ramy. I don't never mean to + marry. I get tired so easily—I'd be afraid of the work. And I have + such awful headaches.” She paused, racking her brain for more convincing + infirmities. + </p> + <p> + “Headaches, do you?” said Mr. Ramy, turning back. + </p> + <p> + “My, yes, awful ones, that I have to give right up to. Evelina has to do + everything when I have one of them headaches. She has to bring me my tea + in the mornings.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm sorry to hear it,” said Mr. Ramy. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you kindly all the same,” Ann Eliza murmured. “And please don't—don't—” + She stopped suddenly, looking at him through her tears. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that's all right,” he answered. “Don't you fret, Miss Gunner. Folks + have got to suit themselves.” She thought his tone had grown more resigned + since she had spoken of her headaches. + </p> + <p> + For some moments he stood looking at her with a hesitating eye, as though + uncertain how to end their conversation; and at length she found courage + to say (in the words of a novel she had once read): “I don't want this + should make any difference between us.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my, no,” said Mr. Ramy, absently picking up his hat. + </p> + <p> + “You'll come in just the same?” she continued, nerving herself to the + effort. “We'd miss you awfully if you didn't. Evelina, she—” She + paused, torn between her desire to turn his thoughts to Evelina, and the + dread of prematurely disclosing her sister's secret. + </p> + <p> + “Don't Miss Evelina have no headaches?” Mr. Ramy suddenly asked. + </p> + <p> + “My, no, never—well, not to speak of, anyway. She ain't had one for + ages, and when Evelina <i>is</i> sick she won't never give in to it,” Ann Eliza + declared, making some hurried adjustments with her conscience. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't have thought that,” said Mr. Ramy. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you don't know us as well as you thought you did.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, no, that's so; maybe I don't. I'll wish you good day, Miss Bunner”; + and Mr. Ramy moved toward the door. + </p> + <p> + “Good day, Mr. Ramy,” Ann Eliza answered. + </p> + <p> + She felt unutterably thankful to be alone. She knew the crucial moment of + her life had passed, and she was glad that she had not fallen below her + own ideals. It had been a wonderful experience; and in spite of the tears + on her cheeks she was not sorry to have known it. Two facts, however, took + the edge from its perfection: that it had happened in the shop, and that + she had not had on her black silk. + </p> + <p> + She passed the next hour in a state of dreamy ecstasy. Something had + entered into her life of which no subsequent empoverishment could rob it: + she glowed with the same rich sense of possessorship that once, as a + little girl, she had felt when her mother had given her a gold locket and + she had sat up in bed in the dark to draw it from its hiding-place beneath + her night-gown. + </p> + <p> + At length a dread of Evelina's return began to mingle with these musings. + How could she meet her younger sister's eye without betraying what had + happened? She felt as though a visible glory lay on her, and she was glad + that dusk had fallen when Evelina entered. But her fears were superfluous. + Evelina, always self-absorbed, had of late lost all interest in the simple + happenings of the shop, and Ann Eliza, with mingled mortification and + relief, perceived that she was in no danger of being cross-questioned as + to the events of the afternoon. She was glad of this; yet there was a + touch of humiliation in finding that the portentous secret in her bosom + did not visibly shine forth. It struck her as dull, and even slightly + absurd, of Evelina not to know at last that they were equals. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PART" id="link2H_PART"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PART II + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Ramy, after a decent interval, returned to the shop; and Ann Eliza, + when they met, was unable to detect whether the emotions which seethed + under her black alpaca found an echo in his bosom. Outwardly he made no + sign. He lit his pipe as placidly as ever and seemed to relapse without + effort into the unruffled intimacy of old. Yet to Ann Eliza's initiated + eye a change became gradually perceptible. She saw that he was beginning + to look at her sister as he had looked at her on that momentous afternoon: + she even discerned a secret significance in the turn of his talk with + Evelina. Once he asked her abruptly if she should like to travel, and Ann + Eliza saw that the flush on Evelina's cheek was reflected from the same + fire which had scorched her own. + </p> + <p> + So they drifted on through the sultry weeks of July. At that season the + business of the little shop almost ceased, and one Saturday morning Mr. + Ramy proposed that the sisters should lock up early and go with him for a + sail down the bay in one of the Coney Island boats. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza saw the light in Evelina's eye and her resolve was instantly + taken. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I won't go, thank you kindly; but I'm sure my sister will be + happy to.” + </p> + <p> + She was pained by the perfunctory phrase with which Evelina urged her to + accompany them; and still more by Mr. Ramy's silence. + </p> + <p> + “No, I guess I won't go,” she repeated, rather in answer to herself than + to them. “It's dreadfully hot and I've got a kinder headache.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, I wouldn't then,” said her sister hurriedly. “You'd better jest + set here quietly and rest.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I'll rest,” Ann Eliza assented. + </p> + <p> + At two o'clock Mr. Ramy returned, and a moment later he and Evelina left + the shop. Evelina had made herself another new bonnet for the occasion, a + bonnet, Ann Eliza thought, almost too youthful in shape and colour. It was + the first time it had ever occurred to her to criticize Evelina's taste, + and she was frightened at the insidious change in her attitude toward her + sister. + </p> + <p> + When Ann Eliza, in later days, looked back on that afternoon she felt that + there had been something prophetic in the quality of its solitude; it + seemed to distill the triple essence of loneliness in which all her + after-life was to be lived. No purchasers came; not a hand fell on the + door-latch; and the tick of the clock in the back room ironically + emphasized the passing of the empty hours. + </p> + <p> + Evelina returned late and alone. Ann Eliza felt the coming crisis in the + sound of her footstep, which wavered along as if not knowing on what it + trod. The elder sister's affection had so passionately projected itself + into her junior's fate that at such moments she seemed to be living two + lives, her own and Evelina's; and her private longings shrank into silence + at the sight of the other's hungry bliss. But it was evident that Evelina, + never acutely alive to the emotional atmosphere about her, had no idea + that her secret was suspected; and with an assumption of unconcern that + would have made Ann Eliza smile if the pang had been less piercing, the + younger sister prepared to confess herself. + </p> + <p> + “What are you so busy about?” she said impatiently, as Ann Eliza, beneath + the gas-jet, fumbled for the matches. “Ain't you even got time to ask me + if I'd had a pleasant day?” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza turned with a quiet smile. “I guess I don't have to. Seems to me + it's pretty plain you have.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't know. I don't know <i>how</i> I feel—it's all so queer. I + almost think I'd like to scream.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess you're tired.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I ain't. It's not that. But it all happened so suddenly, and the boat + was so crowded I thought everybody'd hear what he was saying.—Ann + Eliza,” she broke out, “why on earth don't you ask me what I'm talking + about?” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, with a last effort of heroism, feigned a fond incomprehension. + </p> + <p> + “What <i>are</i> you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I'm engaged to be married—so there! Now it's out! And it + happened right on the boat; only to think of it! Of course I wasn't + exactly surprised—I've known right along he was going to sooner or + later—on'y somehow I didn't think of its happening to-day. I thought + he'd never get up his courage. He said he was so 'fraid I'd say no—that's + what kep' him so long from asking me. Well, I ain't said yes <i>yet</i>—leastways + I told him I'd have to think it over; but I guess he knows. Oh, Ann Eliza, + I'm so happy!” She hid the blinding brightness of her face. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, just then, would only let herself feel that she was glad. She + drew down Evelina's hands and kissed her, and they held each other. When + Evelina regained her voice she had a tale to tell which carried their + vigil far into the night. Not a syllable, not a glance or gesture of + Ramy's, was the elder sister spared; and with unconscious irony she found + herself comparing the details of his proposal to her with those which + Evelina was imparting with merciless prolixity. + </p> + <p> + The next few days were taken up with the embarrassed adjustment of their + new relation to Mr. Ramy and to each other. Ann Eliza's ardour carried her + to new heights of self-effacement, and she invented late duties in the + shop in order to leave Evelina and her suitor longer alone in the back + room. Later on, when she tried to remember the details of those first + days, few came back to her: she knew only that she got up each morning + with the sense of having to push the leaden hours up the same long steep + of pain. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Ramy came daily now. Every evening he and his betrothed went out for a + stroll around the Square, and when Evelina came in her cheeks were always + pink. “He's kissed her under that tree at the corner, away from the + lamp-post,” Ann Eliza said to herself, with sudden insight into + unconjectured things. On Sundays they usually went for the whole afternoon + to the Central Park, and Ann Eliza, from her seat in the mortal hush of + the back room, followed step by step their long slow beatific walk. + </p> + <p> + There had been, as yet, no allusion to their marriage, except that Evelina + had once told her sister that Mr. Ramy wished them to invite Mrs. + Hochmuller and Linda to the wedding. The mention of the laundress raised a + half-forgotten fear in Ann Eliza, and she said in a tone of tentative + appeal: “I guess if I was you I wouldn't want to be very great friends + with Mrs. Hochmuller.” + </p> + <p> + Evelina glanced at her compassionately. “I guess if you was me you'd want + to do everything you could to please the man you loved. It's lucky,” she + added with glacial irony, “that I'm not too grand for Herman's friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” Ann Eliza protested, “that ain't what I mean—and you know it + ain't. Only somehow the day we saw her I didn't think she seemed like the + kinder person you'd want for a friend.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess a married woman's the best judge of such matters,” Evelina + replied, as though she already walked in the light of her future state. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, after that, kept her own counsel. She saw that Evelina wanted + her sympathy as little as her admonitions, and that already she counted + for nothing in her sister's scheme of life. To Ann Eliza's idolatrous + acceptance of the cruelties of fate this exclusion seemed both natural and + just; but it caused her the most lively pain. She could not divest her + love for Evelina of its passionate motherliness; no breath of reason could + lower it to the cool temperature of sisterly affection. + </p> + <p> + She was then passing, as she thought, through the novitiate of her pain; + preparing, in a hundred experimental ways, for the solitude awaiting her + when Evelina left. It was true that it would be a tempered loneliness. + They would not be far apart. Evelina would “run in” daily from the + clock-maker's; they would doubtless take supper with her on Sundays. But + already Ann Eliza guessed with what growing perfunctoriness her sister + would fulfill these obligations; she even foresaw the day when, to get + news of Evelina, she should have to lock the shop at nightfall and go + herself to Mr. Ramy's door. But on that contingency she would not dwell. + “They can come to me when they want to—they'll always find me here,” + she simply said to herself. + </p> + <p> + One evening Evelina came in flushed and agitated from her stroll around + the Square. Ann Eliza saw at once that something had happened; but the new + habit of reticence checked her question. + </p> + <p> + She had not long to wait. “Oh, Ann Eliza, on'y to think what he says—” + (the pronoun stood exclusively for Mr. Ramy). “I declare I'm so upset I + thought the people in the Square would notice me. Don't I look queer? He + wants to get married right off—this very next week.” + </p> + <p> + “Next week?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. So's we can move out to St. Louis right away.” + </p> + <p> + “Him and you—move out to St. Louis?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don't know as it would be natural for him to want to go out there + without me,” Evelina simpered. “But it's all so sudden I don't know what + to think. He only got the letter this morning. <i>Do</i> I look queer, Ann + Eliza?” Her eye was roving for the mirror. + </p> + <p> + “No, you don't,” said Ann Eliza almost harshly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's a mercy,” Evelina pursued with a tinge of disappointment. + “It's a regular miracle I didn't faint right out there in the Square. + Herman's so thoughtless—he just put the letter into my hand without + a word. It's from a big firm out there—the Tiff'ny of St. Louis, he + says it is—offering him a place in their clock-department. Seems + they heard of him through a German friend of his that's settled out there. + It's a splendid opening, and if he gives satisfaction they'll raise him at + the end of the year.” + </p> + <p> + She paused, flushed with the importance of the situation, which seemed to + lift her once for all above the dull level of her former life. + </p> + <p> + “Then you'll have to go?” came at last from Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + Evelina stared. “You wouldn't have me interfere with his prospects, would + you?” + </p> + <p> + “No—no. I on'y meant—has it got to be so soon?” + </p> + <p> + “Right away, I tell you—next week. Ain't it awful?” blushed the + bride. + </p> + <p> + Well, this was what happened to mothers. They bore it, Ann Eliza mused; so + why not she? Ah, but they had their own chance first; she had had no + chance at all. And now this life which she had made her own was going from + her forever; had gone, already, in the inner and deeper sense, and was + soon to vanish in even its outward nearness, its surface-communion of + voice and eye. At that moment even the thought of Evelina's happiness + refused her its consolatory ray; or its light, if she saw it, was too + remote to warm her. The thirst for a personal and inalienable tie, for + pangs and problems of her own, was parching Ann Eliza's soul: it seemed to + her that she could never again gather strength to look her loneliness in + the face. + </p> + <p> + The trivial obligations of the moment came to her aid. Nursed in idleness + her grief would have mastered her; but the needs of the shop and the back + room, and the preparations for Evelina's marriage, kept the tyrant under. + </p> + <p> + Miss Mellins, true to her anticipations, had been called on to aid in the + making of the wedding dress, and she and Ann Eliza were bending one + evening over the breadths of pearl-grey cashmere which in spite of the + dress-maker's prophetic vision of gored satin, had been judged most + suitable, when Evelina came into the room alone. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza had already had occasion to notice that it was a bad sign when + Mr. Ramy left his affianced at the door. It generally meant that Evelina + had something disturbing to communicate, and Ann Eliza's first glance told + her that this time the news was grave. + </p> + <p> + Miss Mellins, who sat with her back to the door and her head bent over her + sewing, started as Evelina came around to the opposite side of the table. + </p> + <p> + “Mercy, Miss Evelina! I declare I thought you was a ghost, the way you + crep' in. I had a customer once up in Forty-ninth Street—a lovely + young woman with a thirty-six bust and a waist you could ha' put into her + wedding ring—and her husband, he crep' up behind her that way jest + for a joke, and frightened her into a fit, and when she come to she was a + raving maniac, and had to be taken to Bloomingdale with two doctors and a + nurse to hold her in the carriage, and a lovely baby on'y six weeks old—and + there she is to this day, poor creature.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't mean to startle you,” said Evelina. + </p> + <p> + She sat down on the nearest chair, and as the lamp-light fell on her face + Ann Eliza saw that she had been crying. + </p> + <p> + “You do look dead-beat,” Miss Mellins resumed, after a pause of + soul-probing scrutiny. “I guess Mr. Ramy lugs you round that Square too + often. You'll walk your legs off if you ain't careful. Men don't never + consider—they're all alike. Why, I had a cousin once that was + engaged to a book-agent—” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe we'd better put away the work for to-night, Miss Mellins,” Ann + Eliza interposed. “I guess what Evelina wants is a good night's rest.” + </p> + <p> + “That's so,” assented the dress-maker. “Have you got the back breadths run + together, Miss Bunner? Here's the sleeves. I'll pin 'em together.” She + drew a cluster of pins from her mouth, in which she seemed to secrete them + as squirrels stow away nuts. “There,” she said, rolling up her work, “you + go right away to bed, Miss Evelina, and we'll set up a little later + to-morrow night. I guess you're a mite nervous, ain't you? I know when my + turn comes I'll be scared to death.” + </p> + <p> + With this arch forecast she withdrew, and Ann Eliza, returning to the back + room, found Evelina still listlessly seated by the table. True to her new + policy of silence, the elder sister set about folding up the bridal dress; + but suddenly Evelina said in a harsh unnatural voice: “There ain't any use + in going on with that.” + </p> + <p> + The folds slipped from Ann Eliza's hands. + </p> + <p> + “Evelina Bunner—what you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Jest what I say. It's put off.” + </p> + <p> + “Put off—what's put off?” + </p> + <p> + “Our getting married. He can't take me to St. Louis. He ain't got money + enough.” She brought the words out in the monotonous tone of a child + reciting a lesson. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza picked up another breadth of cashmere and began to smooth it + out. “I don't understand,” she said at length. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's plain enough. The journey's fearfully expensive, and we've got + to have something left to start with when we get out there. We've counted + up, and he ain't got the money to do it—that's all.” + </p> + <p> + “But I thought he was going right into a splendid place.” + </p> + <p> + “So he is; but the salary's pretty low the first year, and board's very + high in St. Louis. He's jest got another letter from his German friend, + and he's been figuring it out, and he's afraid to chance it. He'll have to + go alone.” + </p> + <p> + “But there's your money—have you forgotten that? The hundred dollars + in the bank.” + </p> + <p> + Evelina made an impatient movement. “Of course I ain't forgotten it. On'y + it ain't enough. It would all have to go into buying furniture, and if he + was took sick and lost his place again we wouldn't have a cent left. He + says he's got to lay by another hundred dollars before he'll be willing to + take me out there.” + </p> + <p> + For a while Ann Eliza pondered this surprising statement; then she + ventured: “Seems to me he might have thought of it before.” + </p> + <p> + In an instant Evelina was aflame. “I guess he knows what's right as well + as you or me. I'd sooner die than be a burden to him.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza made no answer. The clutch of an unformulated doubt had checked + the words on her lips. She had meant, on the day of her sister's marriage, + to give Evelina the other half of their common savings; but something + warned her not to say so now. + </p> + <p> + The sisters undressed without farther words. After they had gone to bed, + and the light had been put out, the sound of Evelina's weeping came to Ann + Eliza in the darkness, but she lay motionless on her own side of the bed, + out of contact with her sister's shaken body. Never had she felt so coldly + remote from Evelina. + </p> + <p> + The hours of the night moved slowly, ticked off with wearisome insistence + by the clock which had played so prominent a part in their lives. + Evelina's sobs still stirred the bed at gradually lengthening intervals, + till at length Ann Eliza thought she slept. But with the dawn the eyes of + the sisters met, and Ann Eliza's courage failed her as she looked in + Evelina's face. + </p> + <p> + She sat up in bed and put out a pleading hand. + </p> + <p> + “Don't cry so, dearie. Don't.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I can't bear it, I can't bear it,” Evelina moaned. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza stroked her quivering shoulder. “Don't, don't,” she repeated. + “If you take the other hundred, won't that be enough? I always meant to + give it to you. On'y I didn't want to tell you till your wedding day.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX + </h2> + <p> + Evelina's marriage took place on the appointed day. It was celebrated in + the evening, in the chantry of the church which the sisters attended, and + after it was over the few guests who had been present repaired to the + Bunner Sisters' basement, where a wedding supper awaited them. Ann Eliza, + aided by Miss Mellins and Mrs. Hawkins, and consciously supported by the + sentimental interest of the whole street, had expended her utmost energy + on the decoration of the shop and the back room. On the table a vase of + white chrysanthemums stood between a dish of oranges and bananas and an + iced wedding-cake wreathed with orange-blossoms of the bride's own making. + Autumn leaves studded with paper roses festooned the what-not and the + chromo of the Rock of Ages, and a wreath of yellow immortelles was twined + about the clock which Evelina revered as the mysterious agent of her + happiness. + </p> + <p> + At the table sat Miss Mellins, profusely spangled and bangled, her head + sewing-girl, a pale young thing who had helped with Evelina's outfit, Mr. + and Mrs. Hawkins, with Johnny, their eldest boy, and Mrs. Hochmuller and + her daughter. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Hochmuller's large blonde personality seemed to pervade the room to + the effacement of the less amply-proportioned guests. It was rendered more + impressive by a dress of crimson poplin that stood out from her in + organ-like folds; and Linda, whom Ann Eliza had remembered as an uncouth + child with a sly look about the eyes, surprised her by a sudden blossoming + into feminine grace such as sometimes follows on a gawky girlhood. The + Hochmullers, in fact, struck the dominant note in the entertainment. + Beside them Evelina, unusually pale in her grey cashmere and white bonnet, + looked like a faintly washed sketch beside a brilliant chromo; and Mr. + Ramy, doomed to the traditional insignificance of the bridegroom's part, + made no attempt to rise above his situation. Even Miss Mellins sparkled + and jingled in vain in the shadow of Mrs. Hochmuller's crimson bulk; and + Ann Eliza, with a sense of vague foreboding, saw that the wedding feast + centred about the two guests she had most wished to exclude from it. What + was said or done while they all sat about the table she never afterward + recalled: the long hours remained in her memory as a whirl of high colours + and loud voices, from which the pale presence of Evelina now and then + emerged like a drowned face on a sunset-dabbled sea. + </p> + <p> + The next morning Mr. Ramy and his wife started for St. Louis, and Ann + Eliza was left alone. Outwardly the first strain of parting was tempered + by the arrival of Miss Mellins, Mrs. Hawkins and Johnny, who dropped in to + help in the ungarlanding and tidying up of the back room. Ann Eliza was + duly grateful for their kindness, but the “talking over” on which they had + evidently counted was Dead Sea fruit on her lips; and just beyond the + familiar warmth of their presences she saw the form of Solitude at her + door. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza was but a small person to harbour so great a guest, and a + trembling sense of insufficiency possessed her. She had no high musings to + offer to the new companion of her hearth. Every one of her thoughts had + hitherto turned to Evelina and shaped itself in homely easy words; of the + mighty speech of silence she knew not the earliest syllable. + </p> + <p> + Everything in the back room and the shop, on the second day after + Evelina's going, seemed to have grown coldly unfamiliar. The whole aspect + of the place had changed with the changed conditions of Ann Eliza's life. + The first customer who opened the shop-door startled her like a ghost; and + all night she lay tossing on her side of the bed, sinking now and then + into an uncertain doze from which she would suddenly wake to reach out her + hand for Evelina. In the new silence surrounding her the walls and + furniture found voice, frightening her at dusk and midnight with strange + sighs and stealthy whispers. Ghostly hands shook the window shutters or + rattled at the outer latch, and once she grew cold at the sound of a step + like Evelina's stealing through the dark shop to die out on the threshold. + In time, of course, she found an explanation for these noises, telling + herself that the bedstead was warping, that Miss Mellins trod heavily + overhead, or that the thunder of passing beer-waggons shook the + door-latch; but the hours leading up to these conclusions were full of the + floating terrors that harden into fixed foreboding. Worst of all were the + solitary meals, when she absently continued to set aside the largest slice + of pie for Evelina, and to let the tea grow cold while she waited for her + sister to help herself to the first cup. Miss Mellins, coming in on one of + these sad repasts, suggested the acquisition of a cat; but Ann Eliza shook + her head. She had never been used to animals, and she felt the vague + shrinking of the pious from creatures divided from her by the abyss of + soullessness. + </p> + <p> + At length, after ten empty days, Evelina's first letter came. + </p> + <p> + “<span class="smcap">My dear Sister</span>,” she wrote, in her pinched Spencerian hand, “it seems + strange to be in this great City so far from home alone with him I have + chosen for life, but marriage has its solemn duties which those who are + not can never hope to understand, and happier perhaps for this reason, + life for them has only simple tasks and pleasures, but those who must take + thought for others must be prepared to do their duty in whatever station + it has pleased the Almighty to call them. Not that I have cause to + complain, my dear Husband is all love and devotion, but being absent all + day at his business how can I help but feel lonesome at times, as the poet + says it is hard for they that love to live apart, and I often wonder, my + dear Sister, how you are getting along alone in the store, may you never + experience the feelings of solitude I have underwent since I came here. We + are boarding now, but soon expect to find rooms and change our place of + Residence, then I shall have all the care of a household to bear, but such + is the fate of those who join their Lot with others, they cannot hope to + escape from the burdens of Life, nor would I ask it, I would not live + alway but while I live would always pray for strength to do my duty. This + city is not near as large or handsome as New York, but had my lot been + cast in a Wilderness I hope I should not repine, such never was my nature, + and they who exchange their independence for the sweet name of Wife must + be prepared to find all is not gold that glitters, nor I would not expect + like you to drift down the stream of Life unfettered and serene as a + Summer cloud, such is not my fate, but come what may will always find in + me a resigned and prayerful Spirit, and hoping this finds you as well as + it leaves me, I remain, my dear Sister, + </p> + <p> + “Yours truly, + </p> + <p> + “<span class="smcap">Evelina B. Ramy</span>.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza had always secretly admired the oratorical and impersonal tone + of Evelina's letters; but the few she had previously read, having been + addressed to school-mates or distant relatives, had appeared in the light + of literary compositions rather than as records of personal experience. + Now she could not but wish that Evelina had laid aside her swelling + periods for a style more suited to the chronicling of homely incidents. + She read the letter again and again, seeking for a clue to what her sister + was really doing and thinking; but after each reading she emerged + impressed but unenlightened from the labyrinth of Evelina's eloquence. + </p> + <p> + During the early winter she received two or three more letters of the same + kind, each enclosing in its loose husk of rhetoric a smaller kernel of + fact. By dint of patient interlinear study, Ann Eliza gathered from them + that Evelina and her husband, after various costly experiments in + boarding, had been reduced to a tenement-house flat; that living in St. + Louis was more expensive than they had supposed, and that Mr. Ramy was + kept out late at night (why, at a jeweller's, Ann Eliza wondered?) and + found his position less satisfactory than he had been led to expect. + Toward February the letters fell off; and finally they ceased to come. + </p> + <p> + At first Ann Eliza wrote, shyly but persistently, entreating for more + frequent news; then, as one appeal after another was swallowed up in the + mystery of Evelina's protracted silence, vague fears began to assail the + elder sister. Perhaps Evelina was ill, and with no one to nurse her but a + man who could not even make himself a cup of tea! Ann Eliza recalled the + layer of dust in Mr. Ramy's shop, and pictures of domestic disorder + mingled with the more poignant vision of her sister's illness. But surely + if Evelina were ill Mr. Ramy would have written. He wrote a small neat + hand, and epistolary communication was not an insuperable embarrassment to + him. The too probable alternative was that both the unhappy pair had been + prostrated by some disease which left them powerless to summon her—for + summon her they surely would, Ann Eliza with unconscious cynicism + reflected, if she or her small economies could be of use to them! The more + she strained her eyes into the mystery, the darker it grew; and her lack + of initiative, her inability to imagine what steps might be taken to trace + the lost in distant places, left her benumbed and helpless. + </p> + <p> + At last there floated up from some depth of troubled memory the name of + the firm of St. Louis jewellers by whom Mr. Ramy was employed. After much + hesitation, and considerable effort, she addressed to them a timid request + for news of her brother-in-law; and sooner than she could have hoped the + answer reached her. + </p> + <p> + “<span class="smcap">Dear Madam</span>, + </p> + <p> + “In reply to yours of the 29th ult. we beg to state the party you refer to + was discharged from our employ a month ago. We are sorry we are unable to + furnish you wish his address. + </p> + <p> + “Yours Respectfully, + </p> + <p> + “<span class="smcap">Ludwig And Hammerbusch</span>.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza read and re-read the curt statement in a stupor of distress. She + had lost her last trace of Evelina. All that night she lay awake, + revolving the stupendous project of going to St. Louis in search of her + sister; but though she pieced together her few financial possibilities + with the ingenuity of a brain used to fitting odd scraps into patch-work + quilts, she woke to the cold daylight fact that she could not raise the + money for her fare. Her wedding gift to Evelina had left her without any + resources beyond her daily earnings, and these had steadily dwindled as + the winter passed. She had long since renounced her weekly visit to the + butcher, and had reduced her other expenses to the narrowest measure; but + the most systematic frugality had not enabled her to put by any money. In + spite of her dogged efforts to maintain the prosperity of the little shop, + her sister's absence had already told on its business. Now that Ann Eliza + had to carry the bundles to the dyer's herself, the customers who called + in her absence, finding the shop locked, too often went elsewhere. + Moreover, after several stern but unavailing efforts, she had had to give + up the trimming of bonnets, which in Evelina's hands had been the most + lucrative as well as the most interesting part of the business. This + change, to the passing female eye, robbed the shop window of its chief + attraction; and when painful experience had convinced the regular + customers of the Bunner Sisters of Ann Eliza's lack of millinery skill + they began to lose faith in her ability to curl a feather or even “freshen + up” a bunch of flowers. The time came when Ann Eliza had almost made up + her mind to speak to the lady with puffed sleeves, who had always looked + at her so kindly, and had once ordered a hat of Evelina. Perhaps the lady + with puffed sleeves would be able to get her a little plain sewing to do; + or she might recommend the shop to friends. Ann Eliza, with this + possibility in view, rummaged out of a drawer the fly-blown remainder of + the business cards which the sisters had ordered in the first flush of + their commercial adventure; but when the lady with puffed sleeves finally + appeared she was in deep mourning, and wore so sad a look that Ann Eliza + dared not speak. She came in to buy some spools of black thread and silk, + and in the doorway she turned back to say: “I am going away to-morrow for + a long time. I hope you will have a pleasant winter.” And the door shut on + her. + </p> + <p> + One day not long after this it occurred to Ann Eliza to go to Hoboken in + quest of Mrs. Hochmuller. Much as she shrank from pouring her distress + into that particular ear, her anxiety had carried her beyond such + reluctance; but when she began to think the matter over she was faced by a + new difficulty. On the occasion of her only visit to Mrs. Hochmuller, she + and Evelina had suffered themselves to be led there by Mr. Ramy; and Ann + Eliza now perceived that she did not even know the name of the laundress's + suburb, much less that of the street in which she lived. But she must have + news of Evelina, and no obstacle was great enough to thwart her. + </p> + <p> + Though she longed to turn to some one for advice she disliked to expose + her situation to Miss Mellins's searching eye, and at first she could + think of no other confidant. Then she remembered Mrs. Hawkins, or rather + her husband, who, though Ann Eliza had always thought him a dull + uneducated man, was probably gifted with the mysterious masculine faculty + of finding out people's addresses. It went hard with Ann Eliza to trust + her secret even to the mild ear of Mrs. Hawkins, but at least she was + spared the cross-examination to which the dress-maker would have subjected + her. The accumulating pressure of domestic cares had so crushed in Mrs. + Hawkins any curiosity concerning the affairs of others that she received + her visitor's confidence with an almost masculine indifference, while she + rocked her teething baby on one arm and with the other tried to check the + acrobatic impulses of the next in age. + </p> + <p> + “My, my,” she simply said as Ann Eliza ended. “Keep still now, Arthur: + Miss Bunner don't want you to jump up and down on her foot to-day. And + what are you gaping at, Johnny? Run right off and play,” she added, + turning sternly to her eldest, who, because he was the least naughty, + usually bore the brunt of her wrath against the others. + </p> + <p> + “Well, perhaps Mr. Hawkins can help you,” Mrs. Hawkins continued + meditatively, while the children, after scattering at her bidding, + returned to their previous pursuits like flies settling down on the spot + from which an exasperated hand has swept them. “I'll send him right round + the minute he comes in, and you can tell him the whole story. I wouldn't + wonder but what he can find that Mrs. Hochmuller's address in the + d'rectory. I know they've got one where he works.” + </p> + <p> + “I'd be real thankful if he could,” Ann Eliza murmured, rising from her + seat with the factitious sense of lightness that comes from imparting a + long-hidden dread. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Hawkins proved himself worthy of his wife's faith in his capacity. He + learned from Ann Eliza as much as she could tell him about Mrs. Hochmuller + and returned the next evening with a scrap of paper bearing her address, + beneath which Johnny (the family scribe) had written in a large round hand + the names of the streets that led there from the ferry. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza lay awake all that night, repeating over and over again the + directions Mr. Hawkins had given her. He was a kind man, and she knew he + would willingly have gone with her to Hoboken; indeed she read in his + timid eye the half-formed intention of offering to accompany her—but + on such an errand she preferred to go alone. + </p> + <p> + The next Sunday, accordingly, she set out early, and without much trouble + found her way to the ferry. Nearly a year had passed since her previous + visit to Mrs. Hochmuller, and a chilly April breeze smote her face as she + stepped on the boat. Most of the passengers were huddled together in the + cabin, and Ann Eliza shrank into its obscurest corner, shivering under the + thin black mantle which had seemed so hot in July. She began to feel a + little bewildered as she stepped ashore, but a paternal policeman put her + into the right car, and as in a dream she found herself retracing the way + to Mrs. Hochmuller's door. She had told the conductor the name of the + street at which she wished to get out, and presently she stood in the + biting wind at the corner near the beer-saloon, where the sun had once + beat down on her so fiercely. At length an empty car appeared, its yellow + flank emblazoned with the name of Mrs. Hochmuller's suburb, and Ann Eliza + was presently jolting past the narrow brick houses islanded between vacant + lots like giant piles in a desolate lagoon. When the car reached the end + of its journey she got out and stood for some time trying to remember + which turn Mr. Ramy had taken. She had just made up her mind to ask the + car-driver when he shook the reins on the backs of his lean horses, and + the car, still empty, jogged away toward Hoboken. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, left alone by the roadside, began to move cautiously forward, + looking about for a small red house with a gable overhung by an elm-tree; + but everything about her seemed unfamiliar and forbidding. One or two + surly looking men slouched past with inquisitive glances, and she could + not make up her mind to stop and speak to them. + </p> + <p> + At length a tow-headed boy came out of a swinging door suggestive of + illicit conviviality, and to him Ann Eliza ventured to confide her + difficulty. The offer of five cents fired him with an instant willingness + to lead her to Mrs. Hochmuller, and he was soon trotting past the + stone-cutter's yard with Ann Eliza in his wake. + </p> + <p> + Another turn in the road brought them to the little red house, and having + rewarded her guide Ann Eliza unlatched the gate and walked up to the door. + Her heart was beating violently, and she had to lean against the door-post + to compose her twitching lips: she had not known till that moment how much + it was going to hurt her to speak of Evelina to Mrs. Hochmuller. As her + agitation subsided she began to notice how much the appearance of the + house had changed. It was not only that winter had stripped the elm, and + blackened the flower-borders: the house itself had a debased and deserted + air. The window-panes were cracked and dirty, and one or two shutters + swung dismally on loosened hinges. + </p> + <p> + She rang several times before the door was opened. At length an Irish + woman with a shawl over her head and a baby in her arms appeared on the + threshold, and glancing past her into the narrow passage Ann Eliza saw + that Mrs. Hochmuller's neat abode had deteriorated as much within as + without. + </p> + <p> + At the mention of the name the woman stared. “Mrs. who, did ye say?” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Hochmuller. This is surely her house?” + </p> + <p> + “No, it ain't neither,” said the woman turning away. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but wait, please,” Ann Eliza entreated. “I can't be mistaken. I mean + the Mrs. Hochmuller who takes in washing. I came out to see her last + June.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the Dutch washerwoman is it—her that used to live here? She's + been gone two months and more. It's Mike McNulty lives here now. Whisht!” + to the baby, who had squared his mouth for a howl. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza's knees grew weak. “Mrs. Hochmuller gone? But where has she + gone? She must be somewhere round here. Can't you tell me?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure an' I can't,” said the woman. “She wint away before iver we come.” + </p> + <p> + “Dalia Geoghegan, will ye bring the choild in out av the cowld?” cried an + irate voice from within. + </p> + <p> + “Please wait—oh, please wait,” Ann Eliza insisted. “You see I must + find Mrs. Hochmuller.” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't ye go and look for her thin?” the woman returned, slamming the + door in her face. + </p> + <p> + She stood motionless on the door-step, dazed by the immensity of her + disappointment, till a burst of loud voices inside the house drove her + down the path and out of the gate. + </p> + <p> + Even then she could not grasp what had happened, and pausing in the road + she looked back at the house, half hoping that Mrs. Hochmuller's once + detested face might appear at one of the grimy windows. + </p> + <p> + She was roused by an icy wind that seemed to spring up suddenly from the + desolate scene, piercing her thin dress like gauze; and turning away she + began to retrace her steps. She thought of enquiring for Mrs. Hochmuller + at some of the neighbouring houses, but their look was so unfriendly that + she walked on without making up her mind at which door to ring. When she + reached the horse-car terminus a car was just moving off toward Hoboken, + and for nearly an hour she had to wait on the corner in the bitter wind. + Her hands and feet were stiff with cold when the car at length loomed into + sight again, and she thought of stopping somewhere on the way to the ferry + for a cup of tea; but before the region of lunch-rooms was reached she had + grown so sick and dizzy that the thought of food was repulsive. At length + she found herself on the ferry-boat, in the soothing stuffiness of the + crowded cabin; then came another interval of shivering on a street-corner, + another long jolting journey in a “cross-town” car that smelt of damp + straw and tobacco; and lastly, in the cold spring dusk, she unlocked her + door and groped her way through the shop to her fireless bedroom. + </p> + <p> + The next morning Mrs. Hawkins, dropping in to hear the result of the trip, + found Ann Eliza sitting behind the counter wrapped in an old shawl. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Miss Bunner, you're sick! You must have fever—your face is + just as red!” + </p> + <p> + “It's nothing. I guess I caught cold yesterday on the ferry-boat,” Ann + Eliza acknowledged. + </p> + <p> + “And it's jest like a vault in here!” Mrs. Hawkins rebuked her. “Let me + feel your hand—it's burning. Now, Miss Bunner, you've got to go + right to bed this very minute.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, but I can't, Mrs. Hawkins.” Ann Eliza attempted a wan smile. “You + forget there ain't nobody but me to tend the store.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess you won't tend it long neither, if you ain't careful,” Mrs. + Hawkins grimly rejoined. Beneath her placid exterior she cherished a + morbid passion for disease and death, and the sight of Ann Eliza's + suffering had roused her from her habitual indifference. “There ain't so + many folks comes to the store anyhow,” she went on with unconscious + cruelty, “and I'll go right up and see if Miss Mellins can't spare one of + her girls.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, too weary to resist, allowed Mrs. Hawkins to put her to bed and + make a cup of tea over the stove, while Miss Mellins, always + good-naturedly responsive to any appeal for help, sent down the weak-eyed + little girl to deal with hypothetical customers. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, having so far abdicated her independence, sank into sudden + apathy. As far as she could remember, it was the first time in her life + that she had been taken care of instead of taking care, and there was a + momentary relief in the surrender. She swallowed the tea like an obedient + child, allowed a poultice to be applied to her aching chest and uttered no + protest when a fire was kindled in the rarely used grate; but as Mrs. + Hawkins bent over to “settle” her pillows she raised herself on her elbow + to whisper: “Oh, Mrs. Hawkins, Mrs. Hochmuller warn't there.” The tears + rolled down her cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “She warn't there? Has she moved?” + </p> + <p> + “Over two months ago—and they don't know where she's gone. Oh + what'll I do, Mrs. Hawkins?” + </p> + <p> + “There, there, Miss Bunner. You lay still and don't fret. I'll ask Mr. + Hawkins soon as ever he comes home.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza murmured her gratitude, and Mrs. Hawkins, bending down, kissed + her on the forehead. “Don't you fret,” she repeated, in the voice with + which she soothed her children. + </p> + <p> + For over a week Ann Eliza lay in bed, faithfully nursed by her two + neighbours, while the weak-eyed child, and the pale sewing girl who had + helped to finish Evelina's wedding dress, took turns in minding the shop. + Every morning, when her friends appeared, Ann Eliza lifted her head to + ask: “Is there a letter?” and at their gentle negative sank back in + silence. Mrs. Hawkins, for several days, spoke no more of her promise to + consult her husband as to the best way of tracing Mrs. Hochmuller; and + dread of fresh disappointment kept Ann Eliza from bringing up the subject. + </p> + <p> + But the following Sunday evening, as she sat for the first time bolstered + up in her rocking-chair near the stove, while Miss Mellins studied the + Police Gazette beneath the lamp, there came a knock on the shop-door and + Mr. Hawkins entered. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza's first glance at his plain friendly face showed her he had news + to give, but though she no longer attempted to hide her anxiety from Miss + Mellins, her lips trembled too much to let her speak. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, Miss Bunner,” said Mr. Hawkins in his dragging voice. “I've + been over to Hoboken all day looking round for Mrs. Hochmuller.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mr. Hawkins—you <i>have</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “I made a thorough search, but I'm sorry to say it was no use. She's left + Hoboken—moved clear away, and nobody seems to know where.” + </p> + <p> + “It was real good of you, Mr. Hawkins.” Ann Eliza's voice struggled up in + a faint whisper through the submerging tide of her disappointment. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hawkins, in his embarrassed sense of being the bringer of bad news, + stood before her uncertainly; then he turned to go. “No trouble at all,” + he paused to assure her from the doorway. + </p> + <p> + She wanted to speak again, to detain him, to ask him to advise her; but + the words caught in her throat and she lay back silent. + </p> + <p> + The next day she got up early, and dressed and bonneted herself with + twitching fingers. She waited till the weak-eyed child appeared, and + having laid on her minute instructions as to the care of the shop, she + slipped out into the street. It had occurred to her in one of the weary + watches of the previous night that she might go to Tiffany's and make + enquiries about Ramy's past. Possibly in that way she might obtain some + information that would suggest a new way of reaching Evelina. She was + guiltily aware that Mrs. Hawkins and Miss Mellins would be angry with her + for venturing out of doors, but she knew she should never feel any better + till she had news of Evelina. + </p> + <p> + The morning air was sharp, and as she turned to face the wind she felt so + weak and unsteady that she wondered if she should ever get as far as Union + Square; but by walking very slowly, and standing still now and then when + she could do so without being noticed, she found herself at last before + the jeweller's great glass doors. + </p> + <p> + It was still so early that there were no purchasers in the shop, and she + felt herself the centre of innumerable unemployed eyes as she moved + forward between long lines of show-cases glittering with diamonds and + silver. + </p> + <p> + She was glancing about in the hope of finding the clock-department without + having to approach one of the impressive gentlemen who paced the empty + aisles, when she attracted the attention of one of the most impressive of + the number. + </p> + <p> + The formidable benevolence with which he enquired what he could do for her + made her almost despair of explaining herself; but she finally + disentangled from a flurry of wrong beginnings the request to be shown to + the clock-department. + </p> + <p> + The gentleman considered her thoughtfully. “May I ask what style of clock + you are looking for? Would it be for a wedding-present, or—?” + </p> + <p> + The irony of the allusion filled Ann Eliza's veins with sudden strength. + “I don't want to buy a clock at all. I want to see the head of the + department.” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Loomis?” His stare still weighed her—then he seemed to brush + aside the problem she presented as beneath his notice. “Oh, certainly. + Take the elevator to the second floor. Next aisle to the left.” He waved + her down the endless perspective of show-cases. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza followed the line of his lordly gesture, and a swift ascent + brought her to a great hall full of the buzzing and booming of thousands + of clocks. Whichever way she looked, clocks stretched away from her in + glittering interminable vistas: clocks of all sizes and voices, from the + bell-throated giant of the hallway to the chirping dressing-table toy; + tall clocks of mahogany and brass with cathedral chimes; clocks of bronze, + glass, porcelain, of every possible size, voice and configuration; and + between their serried ranks, along the polished floor of the aisles, moved + the languid forms of other gentlemanly floor-walkers, waiting for their + duties to begin. + </p> + <p> + One of them soon approached, and Ann Eliza repeated her request. He + received it affably. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Loomis? Go right down to the office at the other end.” He pointed to + a kind of box of ground glass and highly polished panelling. + </p> + <p> + As she thanked him he turned to one of his companions and said something + in which she caught the name of Mr. Loomis, and which was received with an + appreciative chuckle. She suspected herself of being the object of the + pleasantry, and straightened her thin shoulders under her mantle. + </p> + <p> + The door of the office stood open, and within sat a gray-bearded man at a + desk. He looked up kindly, and again she asked for Mr. Loomis. + </p> + <p> + “I'm Mr. Loomis. What can I do for you?” + </p> + <p> + He was much less portentous than the others, though she guessed him to be + above them in authority; and encouraged by his tone she seated herself on + the edge of the chair he waved her to. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you'll excuse my troubling you, sir. I came to ask if you could + tell me anything about Mr. Herman Ramy. He was employed here in the + clock-department two or three years ago.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Loomis showed no recognition of the name. + </p> + <p> + “Ramy? When was he discharged?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't har'ly know. He was very sick, and when he got well his place had + been filled. He married my sister last October and they went to St. Louis, + I ain't had any news of them for over two months, and she's my only + sister, and I'm most crazy worrying about her.” + </p> + <p> + “I see.” Mr. Loomis reflected. “In what capacity was Ramy employed here?” + he asked after a moment. + </p> + <p> + “He—he told us that he was one of the heads of the + clock-department,” Ann Eliza stammered, overswept by a sudden doubt. + </p> + <p> + “That was probably a slight exaggeration. But I can tell you about him by + referring to our books. The name again?” + </p> + <p> + “Ramy—Herman Ramy.” + </p> + <p> + There ensued a long silence, broken only by the flutter of leaves as Mr. + Loomis turned over his ledgers. Presently he looked up, keeping his finger + between the pages. + </p> + <p> + “Here it is—Herman Ramy. He was one of our ordinary workmen, and + left us three years and a half ago last June.” + </p> + <p> + “On account of sickness?” Ann Eliza faltered. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Loomis appeared to hesitate; then he said: “I see no mention of + sickness.” Ann Eliza felt his compassionate eyes on her again. “Perhaps + I'd better tell you the truth. He was discharged for drug-taking. A + capable workman, but we couldn't keep him straight. I'm sorry to have to + tell you this, but it seems fairer, since you say you're anxious about + your sister.” + </p> + <p> + The polished sides of the office vanished from Ann Eliza's sight, and the + cackle of the innumerable clocks came to her like the yell of waves in a + storm. She tried to speak but could not; tried to get to her feet, but the + floor was gone. + </p> + <p> + “I'm very sorry,” Mr. Loomis repeated, closing the ledger. “I remember the + man perfectly now. He used to disappear every now and then, and turn up + again in a state that made him useless for days.” + </p> + <p> + As she listened, Ann Eliza recalled the day when she had come on Mr. Ramy + sitting in abject dejection behind his counter. She saw again the blurred + unrecognizing eyes he had raised to her, the layer of dust over everything + in the shop, and the green bronze clock in the window representing a + Newfoundland dog with his paw on a book. She stood up slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. I'm sorry to have troubled you.” + </p> + <p> + “It was no trouble. You say Ramy married your sister last October?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; and they went to St. Louis right afterward. I don't know how to + find her. I thought maybe somebody here might know about him.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, possibly some of the workmen might. Leave me your name and I'll + send you word if I get on his track.” + </p> + <p> + He handed her a pencil, and she wrote down her address; then she walked + away blindly between the clocks. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Loomis, true to his word, wrote a few days later that he had enquired + in vain in the work-shop for any news of Ramy; and as she folded this + letter and laid it between the leaves of her Bible, Ann Eliza felt that + her last hope was gone. Miss Mellins, of course, had long since suggested + the mediation of the police, and cited from her favourite literature + convincing instances of the supernatural ability of the Pinkerton + detective; but Mr. Hawkins, when called in council, dashed this project by + remarking that detectives cost something like twenty dollars a day; and a + vague fear of the law, some half-formed vision of Evelina in the clutch of + a blue-coated “officer,” kept Ann Eliza from invoking the aid of the + police. + </p> + <p> + After the arrival of Mr. Loomis's note the weeks followed each other + uneventfully. Ann Eliza's cough clung to her till late in the spring, the + reflection in her looking-glass grew more bent and meagre, and her + forehead sloped back farther toward the twist of hair that was fastened + above her parting by a comb of black India-rubber. + </p> + <p> + Toward spring a lady who was expecting a baby took up her abode at the + Mendoza Family Hotel, and through the friendly intervention of Miss + Mellins the making of some of the baby-clothes was entrusted to Ann Eliza. + This eased her of anxiety for the immediate future; but she had to rouse + herself to feel any sense of relief. Her personal welfare was what least + concerned her. Sometimes she thought of giving up the shop altogether; and + only the fear that, if she changed her address, Evelina might not be able + to find her, kept her from carrying out this plan. + </p> + <p> + Since she had lost her last hope of tracing her sister, all the activities + of her lonely imagination had been concentrated on the possibility of + Evelina's coming back to her. The discovery of Ramy's secret filled her + with dreadful fears. In the solitude of the shop and the back room she was + tortured by vague pictures of Evelina's sufferings. What horrors might not + be hidden beneath her silence? Ann Eliza's great dread was that Miss + Mellins should worm out of her what she had learned from Mr. Loomis. She + was sure Miss Mellins must have abominable things to tell about + drug-fiends—things she did not have the strength to hear. + “Drug-fiend”—the very word was Satanic; she could hear Miss Mellins + roll it on her tongue. But Ann Eliza's own imagination, left to itself, + had begun to people the long hours with evil visions. Sometimes, in the + night, she thought she heard herself called: the voice was her sister's, + but faint with a nameless terror. Her most peaceful moments were those in + which she managed to convince herself that Evelina was dead. She thought + of her then, mournfully but more calmly, as thrust away under the + neglected mound of some unknown cemetery, where no headstone marked her + name, no mourner with flowers for another grave paused in pity to lay a + blossom on hers. But this vision did not often give Ann Eliza its negative + relief; and always, beneath its hazy lines, lurked the dark conviction + that Evelina was alive, in misery and longing for her. + </p> + <p> + So the summer wore on. Ann Eliza was conscious that Mrs. Hawkins and Miss + Mellins were watching her with affectionate anxiety, but the knowledge + brought no comfort. She no longer cared what they felt or thought about + her. Her grief lay far beyond touch of human healing, and after a while + she became aware that they knew they could not help her. They still came + in as often as their busy lives permitted, but their visits grew shorter, + and Mrs. Hawkins always brought Arthur or the baby, so that there should + be something to talk about, and some one whom she could scold. + </p> + <p> + The autumn came, and the winter. Business had fallen off again, and but + few purchasers came to the little shop in the basement. In January Ann + Eliza pawned her mother's cashmere scarf, her mosaic brooch, and the + rosewood what-not on which the clock had always stood; she would have sold + the bedstead too, but for the persistent vision of Evelina returning weak + and weary, and not knowing where to lay her head. + </p> + <p> + The winter passed in its turn, and March reappeared with its galaxies of + yellow jonquils at the windy street corners, reminding Ann Eliza of the + spring day when Evelina had come home with a bunch of jonquils in her + hand. In spite of the flowers which lent such a premature brightness to + the streets the month was fierce and stormy, and Ann Eliza could get no + warmth into her bones. Nevertheless, she was insensibly beginning to take + up the healing routine of life. Little by little she had grown used to + being alone, she had begun to take a languid interest in the one or two + new purchasers the season had brought, and though the thought of Evelina + was as poignant as ever, it was less persistently in the foreground of her + mind. + </p> + <p> + Late one afternoon she was sitting behind the counter, wrapped in her + shawl, and wondering how soon she might draw down the blinds and retreat + into the comparative cosiness of the back room. She was not thinking of + anything in particular, except perhaps in a hazy way of the lady with the + puffed sleeves, who after her long eclipse had reappeared the day before + in sleeves of a new cut, and bought some tape and needles. The lady still + wore mourning, but she was evidently lightening it, and Ann Eliza saw in + this the hope of future orders. The lady had left the shop about an hour + before, walking away with her graceful step toward Fifth Avenue. She had + wished Ann Eliza good day in her usual affable way, and Ann Eliza thought + how odd it was that they should have been acquainted so long, and yet that + she should not know the lady's name. From this consideration her mind + wandered to the cut of the lady's new sleeves, and she was vexed with + herself for not having noted it more carefully. She felt Miss Mellins + might have liked to know about it. Ann Eliza's powers of observation had + never been as keen as Evelina's, when the latter was not too self-absorbed + to exert them. As Miss Mellins always said, Evelina could “take patterns + with her eyes”: she could have cut that new sleeve out of a folded + newspaper in a trice! Musing on these things, Ann Eliza wished the lady + would come back and give her another look at the sleeve. It was not + unlikely that she might pass that way, for she certainly lived in or about + the Square. Suddenly Ann Eliza remarked a small neat handkerchief on the + counter: it must have dropped from the lady's purse, and she would + probably come back to get it. Ann Eliza, pleased at the idea, sat on + behind the counter and watched the darkening street. She always lit the + gas as late as possible, keeping the box of matches at her elbow, so that + if any one came she could apply a quick flame to the gas-jet. At length + through the deepening dusk she distinguished a slim dark figure coming + down the steps to the shop. With a little warmth of pleasure about her + heart she reached up to light the gas. “I do believe I'll ask her name + this time,” she thought. She raised the flame to its full height, and saw + her sister standing in the door. + </p> + <p> + There she was at last, the poor pale shade of Evelina, her thin face + blanched of its faint pink, the stiff ripples gone from her hair, and a + mantle shabbier than Ann Eliza's drawn about her narrow shoulders. The + glare of the gas beat full on her as she stood and looked at Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Sister—oh, Evelina! I knowed you'd come!” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza had caught her close with a long moan of triumph. Vague words + poured from her as she laid her cheek against Evelina's—trivial + inarticulate endearments caught from Mrs. Hawkins's long discourses to her + baby. + </p> + <p> + For a while Evelina let herself be passively held; then she drew back from + her sister's clasp and looked about the shop. “I'm dead tired. Ain't there + any fire?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Of course there is!” Ann Eliza, holding her hand fast, drew her into the + back room. She did not want to ask any questions yet: she simply wanted to + feel the emptiness of the room brimmed full again by the one presence that + was warmth and light to her. + </p> + <p> + She knelt down before the grate, scraped some bits of coal and kindling + from the bottom of the coal-scuttle, and drew one of the rocking-chairs up + to the weak flame. “There—that'll blaze up in a minute,” she said. + She pressed Evelina down on the faded cushions of the rocking-chair, and, + kneeling beside her, began to rub her hands. + </p> + <p> + “You're stone-cold, ain't you? Just sit still and warm yourself while I + run and get the kettle. I've got something you always used to fancy for + supper.” She laid her hand on Evelina's shoulder. “Don't talk—oh, + don't talk yet!” she implored. She wanted to keep that one frail second of + happiness between herself and what she knew must come. + </p> + <p> + Evelina, without a word, bent over the fire, stretching her thin hands to + the blaze and watching Ann Eliza fill the kettle and set the supper table. + Her gaze had the dreamy fixity of a half-awakened child's. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza, with a smile of triumph, brought a slice of custard pie from + the cupboard and put it by her sister's plate. + </p> + <p> + “You do like that, don't you? Miss Mellins sent it down to me this + morning. She had her aunt from Brooklyn to dinner. Ain't it funny it just + so happened?” + </p> + <p> + “I ain't hungry,” said Evelina, rising to approach the table. + </p> + <p> + She sat down in her usual place, looked about her with the same wondering + stare, and then, as of old, poured herself out the first cup of tea. + </p> + <p> + “Where's the what-not gone to?” she suddenly asked. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza set down the teapot and rose to get a spoon from the cupboard. + With her back to the room she said: “The what-not? Why, you see, dearie, + living here all alone by myself it only made one more thing to dust; so I + sold it.” + </p> + <p> + Evelina's eyes were still travelling about the familiar room. Though it + was against all the traditions of the Bunner family to sell any household + possession, she showed no surprise at her sister's answer. + </p> + <p> + “And the clock? The clock's gone too.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I gave that away—I gave it to Mrs. Hawkins. She's kep' awake so + nights with that last baby.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish you'd never bought it,” said Evelina harshly. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza's heart grew faint with fear. Without answering, she crossed + over to her sister's seat and poured her out a second cup of tea. Then + another thought struck her, and she went back to the cupboard and took out + the cordial. In Evelina's absence considerable draughts had been drawn + from it by invalid neighbours; but a glassful of the precious liquid still + remained. + </p> + <p> + “Here, drink this right off—it'll warm you up quicker than + anything,” Ann Eliza said. + </p> + <p> + Evelina obeyed, and a slight spark of colour came into her cheeks. She + turned to the custard pie and began to eat with a silent voracity + distressing to watch. She did not even look to see what was left for Ann + Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “I ain't hungry,” she said at last as she laid down her fork. “I'm only so + dead tired—that's the trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you'd better get right into bed. Here's my old plaid dressing-gown—you + remember it, don't you?” Ann Eliza laughed, recalling Evelina's ironies on + the subject of the antiquated garment. With trembling fingers she began to + undo her sister's cloak. The dress beneath it told a tale of poverty that + Ann Eliza dared not pause to note. She drew it gently off, and as it + slipped from Evelina's shoulders it revealed a tiny black bag hanging on a + ribbon about her neck. Evelina lifted her hand as though to screen the bag + from Ann Eliza; and the elder sister, seeing the gesture, continued her + task with lowered eyes. She undressed Evelina as quickly as she could, and + wrapping her in the plaid dressing-gown put her to bed, and spread her own + shawl and her sister's cloak above the blanket. + </p> + <p> + “Where's the old red comfortable?” Evelina asked, as she sank down on the + pillow. + </p> + <p> + “The comfortable? Oh, it was so hot and heavy I never used it after you + went—so I sold that too. I never could sleep under much clothes.” + </p> + <p> + She became aware that her sister was looking at her more attentively. + </p> + <p> + “I guess you've been in trouble too,” Evelina said. + </p> + <p> + “Me? In trouble? What do you mean, Evelina?” + </p> + <p> + “You've had to pawn the things, I suppose,” Evelina continued in a weary + unmoved tone. “Well, I've been through worse than that. I've been to hell + and back.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Evelina—don't say it, sister!” Ann Eliza implored, shrinking + from the unholy word. She knelt down and began to rub her sister's feet + beneath the bedclothes. + </p> + <p> + “I've been to hell and back—if I <i>am</i> back,” Evelina repeated. She + lifted her head from the pillow and began to talk with a sudden feverish + volubility. “It began right away, less than a month after we were married. + I've been in hell all that time, Ann Eliza.” She fixed her eyes with + passionate intentness on Ann Eliza's face. “He took opium. I didn't find + it out till long afterward—at first, when he acted so strange, I + thought he drank. But it was worse, much worse than drinking.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sister, don't say it—don't say it yet! It's so sweet just to + have you here with me again.” + </p> + <p> + “I must say it,” Evelina insisted, her flushed face burning with a kind of + bitter cruelty. “You don't know what life's like—you don't know + anything about it—setting here safe all the while in this peaceful + place.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Evelina—why didn't you write and send for me if it was like + that?” + </p> + <p> + “That's why I couldn't write. Didn't you guess I was ashamed?” + </p> + <p> + “How could you be? Ashamed to write to Ann Eliza?” + </p> + <p> + Evelina raised herself on her thin elbow, while Ann Eliza, bending over, + drew a corner of the shawl about her shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Do lay down again. You'll catch your death.” + </p> + <p> + “My death? That don't frighten me! You don't know what I've been through.” + And sitting upright in the old mahogany bed, with flushed cheeks and + chattering teeth, and Ann Eliza's trembling arm clasping the shawl about + her neck, Evelina poured out her story. It was a tale of misery and + humiliation so remote from the elder sister's innocent experiences that + much of it was hardly intelligible to her. Evelina's dreadful familiarity + with it all, her fluency about things which Ann Eliza half-guessed and + quickly shuddered back from, seemed even more alien and terrible than the + actual tale she told. It was one thing—and heaven knew it was bad + enough!—to learn that one's sister's husband was a drug-fiend; it + was another, and much worse thing, to learn from that sister's pallid lips + what vileness lay behind the word. + </p> + <p> + Evelina, unconscious of any distress but her own, sat upright, shivering + in Ann Eliza's hold, while she piled up, detail by detail, her dreary + narrative. + </p> + <p> + “The minute we got out there, and he found the job wasn't as good as he + expected, he changed. At first I thought he was sick—I used to try + to keep him home and nurse him. Then I saw it was something different. He + used to go off for hours at a time, and when he came back his eyes kinder + had a fog over them. Sometimes he didn't har'ly know me, and when he did + he seemed to hate me. Once he hit me here.” She touched her breast. “Do + you remember, Ann Eliza, that time he didn't come to see us for a week—the + time after we all went to Central Park together—and you and I + thought he must be sick?” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Well, that was the trouble—he'd been at it then. But nothing like + as bad. After we'd been out there about a month he disappeared for a whole + week. They took him back at the store, and gave him another chance; but + the second time they discharged him, and he drifted round for ever so long + before he could get another job. We spent all our money and had to move to + a cheaper place. Then he got something to do, but they hardly paid him + anything, and he didn't stay there long. When he found out about the baby—” + </p> + <p> + “The baby?” Ann Eliza faltered. + </p> + <p> + “It's dead—it only lived a day. When he found out about it, he got + mad, and said he hadn't any money to pay doctors' bills, and I'd better + write to you to help us. He had an idea you had money hidden away that I + didn't know about.” She turned to her sister with remorseful eyes. “It was + him that made me get that hundred dollars out of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, hush. I always meant it for you anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I wouldn't have taken it if he hadn't been at me the whole time. + He used to make me do just what he wanted. Well, when I said I wouldn't + write to you for more money he said I'd better try and earn some myself. + That was when he struck me.... Oh, you don't know what I'm talking about + yet!... I tried to get work at a milliner's, but I was so sick I couldn't + stay. I was sick all the time. I wisht I'd ha' died, Ann Eliza.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, Evelina.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do. It kept getting worse and worse. We pawned the furniture, and + they turned us out because we couldn't pay the rent; and so then we went + to board with Mrs. Hochmuller.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza pressed her closer to dissemble her own tremor. “Mrs. + Hochmuller?” + </p> + <p> + “Didn't you know she was out there? She moved out a month after we did. + She wasn't bad to me, and I think she tried to keep him straight—but + Linda—” + </p> + <p> + “Linda—?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, when I kep' getting worse, and he was always off, for days at a + time, the doctor had me sent to a hospital.” + </p> + <p> + “A hospital? Sister—sister!” + </p> + <p> + “It was better than being with him; and the doctors were real kind to me. + After the baby was born I was very sick and had to stay there a good + while. And one day when I was laying there Mrs. Hochmuller came in as + white as a sheet, and told me him and Linda had gone off together and + taken all her money. That's the last I ever saw of him.” She broke off + with a laugh and began to cough again. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza tried to persuade her to lie down and sleep, but the rest of her + story had to be told before she could be soothed into consent. After the + news of Ramy's flight she had had brain fever, and had been sent to + another hospital where she stayed a long time—how long she couldn't + remember. Dates and days meant nothing to her in the shapeless ruin of her + life. When she left the hospital she found that Mrs. Hochmuller had gone + too. She was penniless, and had no one to turn to. A lady visitor at the + hospital was kind, and found her a place where she did housework; but she + was so weak they couldn't keep her. Then she got a job as waitress in a + down-town lunch-room, but one day she fainted while she was handing a + dish, and that evening when they paid her they told her she needn't come + again. + </p> + <p> + “After that I begged in the streets”—(Ann Eliza's grasp again grew + tight)—“and one afternoon last week, when the matinees was coming + out, I met a man with a pleasant face, something like Mr. Hawkins, and he + stopped and asked me what the trouble was. I told him if he'd give me five + dollars I'd have money enough to buy a ticket back to New York, and he + took a good look at me and said, well, if that was what I wanted he'd go + straight to the station with me and give me the five dollars there. So he + did—and he bought the ticket, and put me in the cars.” + </p> + <p> + Evelina sank back, her face a sallow wedge in the white cleft of the + pillow. Ann Eliza leaned over her, and for a long time they held each + other without speaking. + </p> + <p> + They were still clasped in this dumb embrace when there was a step in the + shop and Ann Eliza, starting up, saw Miss Mellins in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “My sakes, Miss Bunner! What in the land are you doing? Miss Evelina—Mrs. + Ramy—it ain't you?” + </p> + <p> + Miss Mellins's eyes, bursting from their sockets, sprang from Evelina's + pallid face to the disordered supper table and the heap of worn clothes on + the floor; then they turned back to Ann Eliza, who had placed herself on + the defensive between her sister and the dress-maker. + </p> + <p> + “My sister Evelina has come back—come back on a visit. She was taken + sick in the cars on the way home—I guess she caught cold—so I + made her go right to bed as soon as ever she got here.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza was surprised at the strength and steadiness of her voice. + Fortified by its sound she went on, her eyes on Miss Mellins's baffled + countenance: “Mr. Ramy has gone west on a trip—a trip connected with + his business; and Evelina is going to stay with me till he comes back.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII + </h2> + <p> + What measure of belief her explanation of Evelina's return obtained in the + small circle of her friends Ann Eliza did not pause to enquire. Though she + could not remember ever having told a lie before, she adhered with rigid + tenacity to the consequences of her first lapse from truth, and fortified + her original statement with additional details whenever a questioner + sought to take her unawares. + </p> + <p> + But other and more serious burdens lay on her startled conscience. For the + first time in her life she dimly faced the awful problem of the inutility + of self-sacrifice. Hitherto she had never thought of questioning the + inherited principles which had guided her life. Self-effacement for the + good of others had always seemed to her both natural and necessary; but + then she had taken it for granted that it implied the securing of that + good. Now she perceived that to refuse the gifts of life does not ensure + their transmission to those for whom they have been surrendered; and her + familiar heaven was unpeopled. She felt she could no longer trust in the + goodness of God, and there was only a black abyss above the roof of Bunner + Sisters. + </p> + <p> + But there was little time to brood upon such problems. The care of Evelina + filled Ann Eliza's days and nights. The hastily summoned doctor had + pronounced her to be suffering from pneumonia, and under his care the + first stress of the disease was relieved. But her recovery was only + partial, and long after the doctor's visits had ceased she continued to + lie in bed, too weak to move, and seemingly indifferent to everything + about her. + </p> + <p> + At length one evening, about six weeks after her return, she said to her + sister: “I don't feel's if I'd ever get up again.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza turned from the kettle she was placing on the stove. She was + startled by the echo the words woke in her own breast. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you talk like that, Evelina! I guess you're on'y tired out—and + disheartened.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I'm disheartened,” Evelina murmured. + </p> + <p> + A few months earlier Ann Eliza would have met the confession with a word + of pious admonition; now she accepted it in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe you'll brighten up when your cough gets better,” she suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—or my cough'll get better when I brighten up,” Evelina retorted + with a touch of her old tartness. + </p> + <p> + “Does your cough keep on hurting you jest as much?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see's there's much difference.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess I'll get the doctor to come round again,” Ann Eliza said, + trying for the matter-of-course tone in which one might speak of sending + for the plumber or the gas-fitter. + </p> + <p> + “It ain't any use sending for the doctor—and who's going to pay + him?” + </p> + <p> + “I am,” answered the elder sister. “Here's your tea, and a mite of toast. + Don't that tempt you?” + </p> + <p> + Already, in the watches of the night, Ann Eliza had been tormented by that + same question—who was to pay the doctor?—and a few days before + she had temporarily silenced it by borrowing twenty dollars of Miss + Mellins. The transaction had cost her one of the bitterest struggles of + her life. She had never borrowed a penny of any one before, and the + possibility of having to do so had always been classed in her mind among + those shameful extremities to which Providence does not let decent people + come. But nowadays she no longer believed in the personal supervision of + Providence; and had she been compelled to steal the money instead of + borrowing it, she would have felt that her conscience was the only + tribunal before which she had to answer. Nevertheless, the actual + humiliation of having to ask for the money was no less bitter; and she + could hardly hope that Miss Mellins would view the case with the same + detachment as herself. Miss Mellins was very kind; but she not unnaturally + felt that her kindness should be rewarded by according her the right to + ask questions; and bit by bit Ann Eliza saw Evelina's miserable secret + slipping into the dress-maker's possession. + </p> + <p> + When the doctor came she left him alone with Evelina, busying herself in + the shop that she might have an opportunity of seeing him alone on his way + out. To steady herself she began to sort a trayful of buttons, and when + the doctor appeared she was reciting under her breath: “Twenty-four horn, + two and a half cards fancy pearl...” She saw at once that his look was + grave. + </p> + <p> + He sat down on the chair beside the counter, and her mind travelled miles + before he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Bunner, the best thing you can do is to let me get a bed for your + sister at St. Luke's.” + </p> + <p> + “The hospital?” + </p> + <p> + “Come now, you're above that sort of prejudice, aren't you?” The doctor + spoke in the tone of one who coaxes a spoiled child. “I know how devoted + you are—but Mrs. Ramy can be much better cared for there than here. + You really haven't time to look after her and attend to your business as + well. There'll be no expense, you understand—” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza made no answer. “You think my sister's going to be sick a good + while, then?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes—possibly.” + </p> + <p> + “You think she's very sick?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes. She's very sick.” + </p> + <p> + His face had grown still graver; he sat there as though he had never known + what it was to hurry. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza continued to separate the pearl and horn buttons. Suddenly she + lifted her eyes and looked at him. “Is she going to die?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor laid a kindly hand on hers. “We never say that, Miss Bunner. + Human skill works wonders—and at the hospital Mrs. Ramy would have + every chance.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it? What's she dying of?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor hesitated, seeking to substitute a popular phrase for the + scientific terminology which rose to his lips. + </p> + <p> + “I want to know,” Ann Eliza persisted. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, of course; I understand. Well, your sister has had a hard time + lately, and there is a complication of causes, resulting in consumption—rapid + consumption. At the hospital—” + </p> + <p> + “I'll keep her here,” said Ann Eliza quietly. + </p> + <p> + After the doctor had gone she went on for some time sorting the buttons; + then she slipped the tray into its place on a shelf behind the counter and + went into the back room. She found Evelina propped upright against the + pillows, a flush of agitation on her cheeks. Ann Eliza pulled up the shawl + which had slipped from her sister's shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “How long you've been! What's he been saying?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he went long ago—he on'y stopped to give me a prescription. I + was sorting out that tray of buttons. Miss Mellins's girl got them all + mixed up.” + </p> + <p> + She felt Evelina's eyes upon her. + </p> + <p> + “He must have said something: what was it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, he said you'd have to be careful—and stay in bed—and + take this new medicine he's given you.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he say I was going to get well?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Evelina!” + </p> + <p> + “What's the use, Ann Eliza? You can't deceive me. I've just been up to + look at myself in the glass; and I saw plenty of 'em in the hospital that + looked like me. They didn't get well, and I ain't going to.” Her head + dropped back. “It don't much matter—I'm about tired. On'y there's + one thing—Ann Eliza—” + </p> + <p> + The elder sister drew near to the bed. + </p> + <p> + “There's one thing I ain't told you. I didn't want to tell you yet because + I was afraid you might be sorry—but if he says I'm going to die I've + got to say it.” She stopped to cough, and to Ann Eliza it now seemed as + though every cough struck a minute from the hours remaining to her. + </p> + <p> + “Don't talk now—you're tired.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll be tireder to-morrow, I guess. And I want you should know. Sit down + close to me—there.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza sat down in silence, stroking her shrunken hand. + </p> + <p> + “I'm a Roman Catholic, Ann Eliza.” + </p> + <p> + “Evelina—oh, Evelina Bunner! A Roman Catholic—<i>you</i>? Oh, + Evelina, did <i>he</i> make you?” + </p> + <p> + Evelina shook her head. “I guess he didn't have no religion; he never + spoke of it. But you see Mrs. Hochmuller was a Catholic, and so when I was + sick she got the doctor to send me to a Roman Catholic hospital, and the + sisters was so good to me there—and the priest used to come and talk + to me; and the things he said kep' me from going crazy. He seemed to make + everything easier.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sister, how could you?” Ann Eliza wailed. She knew little of the + Catholic religion except that “Papists” believed in it—in itself a + sufficient indictment. Her spiritual rebellion had not freed her from the + formal part of her religious belief, and apostasy had always seemed to her + one of the sins from which the pure in mind avert their thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “And then when the baby was born,” Evelina continued, “he christened it + right away, so it could go to heaven; and after that, you see, I had to be + a Catholic.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't see—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't I have to be where the baby is? I couldn't ever ha' gone there if I + hadn't been made a Catholic. Don't you understand that?” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza sat speechless, drawing her hand away. Once more she found + herself shut out of Evelina's heart, an exile from her closest affections. + </p> + <p> + “I've got to go where the baby is,” Evelina feverishly insisted. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza could think of nothing to say; she could only feel that Evelina + was dying, and dying as a stranger in her arms. Ramy and the day-old baby + had parted her forever from her sister. + </p> + <p> + Evelina began again. “If I get worse I want you to send for a priest. Miss + Mellins'll know where to send—she's got an aunt that's a Catholic. + Promise me faithful you will.” + </p> + <p> + “I promise,” said Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + After that they spoke no more of the matter; but Ann Eliza now understood + that the little black bag about her sister's neck, which she had + innocently taken for a memento of Ramy, was some kind of sacrilegious + amulet, and her fingers shrank from its contact when she bathed and + dressed Evelina. It seemed to her the diabolical instrument of their + estrangement. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIII + </h2> + <p> + Spring had really come at last. There were leaves on the ailanthus-tree + that Evelina could see from her bed, gentle clouds floated over it in the + blue, and now and then the cry of a flower-seller sounded from the street. + </p> + <p> + One day there was a shy knock on the back-room door, and Johnny Hawkins + came in with two yellow jonquils in his fist. He was getting bigger and + squarer, and his round freckled face was growing into a smaller copy of + his father's. He walked up to Evelina and held out the flowers. + </p> + <p> + “They blew off the cart and the fellow said I could keep 'em. But you can + have 'em,” he announced. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza rose from her seat at the sewing-machine and tried to take the + flowers from him. + </p> + <p> + “They ain't for you; they're for her,” he sturdily objected; and Evelina + held out her hand for the jonquils. + </p> + <p> + After Johnny had gone she lay and looked at them without speaking. Ann + Eliza, who had gone back to the machine, bent her head over the seam she + was stitching; the click, click, click of the machine sounded in her ear + like the tick of Ramy's clock, and it seemed to her that life had gone + backward, and that Evelina, radiant and foolish, had just come into the + room with the yellow flowers in her hand. + </p> + <p> + When at last she ventured to look up, she saw that her sister's head had + drooped against the pillow, and that she was sleeping quietly. Her relaxed + hand still held the jonquils, but it was evident that they had awakened no + memories; she had dozed off almost as soon as Johnny had given them to + her. The discovery gave Ann Eliza a startled sense of the ruins that must + be piled upon her past. “I don't believe I could have forgotten that day, + though,” she said to herself. But she was glad that Evelina had forgotten. + </p> + <p> + Evelina's disease moved on along the usual course, now lifting her on a + brief wave of elation, now sinking her to new depths of weakness. There + was little to be done, and the doctor came only at lengthening intervals. + On his way out he always repeated his first friendly suggestion about + sending Evelina to the hospital; and Ann Eliza always answered: “I guess + we can manage.” + </p> + <p> + The hours passed for her with the fierce rapidity that great joy or + anguish lends them. She went through the days with a sternly smiling + precision, but she hardly knew what was happening, and when night-fall + released her from the shop, and she could carry her work to Evelina's + bedside, the same sense of unreality accompanied her, and she still seemed + to be accomplishing a task whose object had escaped her memory. + </p> + <p> + Once, when Evelina felt better, she expressed a desire to make some + artificial flowers, and Ann Eliza, deluded by this awakening interest, got + out the faded bundles of stems and petals and the little tools and spools + of wire. But after a few minutes the work dropped from Evelina's hands and + she said: “I'll wait until to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + She never again spoke of the flower-making, but one day, after watching + Ann Eliza's laboured attempt to trim a spring hat for Mrs. Hawkins, she + demanded impatiently that the hat should be brought to her, and in a trice + had galvanized the lifeless bow and given the brim the twist it needed. + </p> + <p> + These were rare gleams; and more frequent were the days of speechless + lassitude, when she lay for hours silently staring at the window, shaken + only by the hard incessant cough that sounded to Ann Eliza like the + hammering of nails into a coffin. + </p> + <p> + At length one morning Ann Eliza, starting up from the mattress at the foot + of the bed, hastily called Miss Mellins down, and ran through the smoky + dawn for the doctor. He came back with her and did what he could to give + Evelina momentary relief; then he went away, promising to look in again + before night. Miss Mellins, her head still covered with curl-papers, + disappeared in his wake, and when the sisters were alone Evelina beckoned + to Ann Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “You promised,” she whispered, grasping her sister's arm; and Ann Eliza + understood. She had not yet dared to tell Miss Mellins of Evelina's change + of faith; it had seemed even more difficult than borrowing the money; but + now it had to be done. She ran upstairs after the dress-maker and detained + her on the landing. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Mellins, can you tell me where to send for a priest—a Roman + Catholic priest?” + </p> + <p> + “A priest, Miss Bunner?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. My sister became a Roman Catholic while she was away. They were kind + to her in her sickness—and now she wants a priest.” Ann Eliza faced + Miss Mellins with unflinching eyes. + </p> + <p> + “My aunt Dugan'll know. I'll run right round to her the minute I get my + papers off,” the dress-maker promised; and Ann Eliza thanked her. + </p> + <p> + An hour or two later the priest appeared. Ann Eliza, who was watching, saw + him coming down the steps to the shop-door and went to meet him. His + expression was kind, but she shrank from his peculiar dress, and from his + pale face with its bluish chin and enigmatic smile. Ann Eliza remained in + the shop. Miss Mellins's girl had mixed the buttons again and she set + herself to sort them. The priest stayed a long time with Evelina. When he + again carried his enigmatic smile past the counter, and Ann Eliza rejoined + her sister, Evelina was smiling with something of the same mystery; but + she did not tell her secret. + </p> + <p> + After that it seemed to Ann Eliza that the shop and the back room no + longer belonged to her. It was as though she were there on sufferance, + indulgently tolerated by the unseen power which hovered over Evelina even + in the absence of its minister. The priest came almost daily; and at last + a day arrived when he was called to administer some rite of which Ann + Eliza but dimly grasped the sacramental meaning. All she knew was that it + meant that Evelina was going, and going, under this alien guidance, even + farther from her than to the dark places of death. + </p> + <p> + When the priest came, with something covered in his hands, she crept into + the shop, closing the door of the back room to leave him alone with + Evelina. + </p> + <p> + It was a warm afternoon in May, and the crooked ailanthus-tree rooted in a + fissure of the opposite pavement was a fountain of tender green. Women in + light dresses passed with the languid step of spring; and presently there + came a man with a hand-cart full of pansy and geranium plants who stopped + outside the window, signalling to Ann Eliza to buy. + </p> + <p> + An hour went by before the door of the back room opened and the priest + reappeared with that mysterious covered something in his hands. Ann Eliza + had risen, drawing back as he passed. He had doubtless divined her + antipathy, for he had hitherto only bowed in going in and out; but to day + he paused and looked at her compassionately. + </p> + <p> + “I have left your sister in a very beautiful state of mind,” he said in a + low voice like a woman's. “She is full of spiritual consolation.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza was silent, and he bowed and went out. She hastened back to + Evelina's bed, and knelt down beside it. Evelina's eyes were very large + and bright; she turned them on Ann Eliza with a look of inner + illumination. + </p> + <p> + “I shall see the baby,” she said; then her eyelids fell and she dozed. + </p> + <p> + The doctor came again at nightfall, administering some last palliatives; + and after he had gone Ann Eliza, refusing to have her vigil shared by Miss + Mellins or Mrs. Hawkins, sat down to keep watch alone. + </p> + <p> + It was a very quiet night. Evelina never spoke or opened her eyes, but in + the still hour before dawn Ann Eliza saw that the restless hand outside + the bed-clothes had stopped its twitching. She stooped over and felt no + breath on her sister's lips. + </p> + <p> + The funeral took place three days later. Evelina was buried in Calvary + Cemetery, the priest assuming the whole care of the necessary + arrangements, while Ann Eliza, a passive spectator, beheld with stony + indifference this last negation of her past. + </p> + <p> + A week afterward she stood in her bonnet and mantle in the doorway of the + little shop. Its whole aspect had changed. Counter and shelves were bare, + the window was stripped of its familiar miscellany of artificial flowers, + note-paper, wire hat-frames, and limp garments from the dyer's; and + against the glass pane of the doorway hung a sign: “This store to let.” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza turned her eyes from the sign as she went out and locked the + door behind her. Evelina's funeral had been very expensive, and Ann Eliza, + having sold her stock-in-trade and the few articles of furniture that + remained to her, was leaving the shop for the last time. She had not been + able to buy any mourning, but Miss Mellins had sewed some crape on her old + black mantle and bonnet, and having no gloves she slipped her bare hands + under the folds of the mantle. + </p> + <p> + It was a beautiful morning, and the air was full of a warm sunshine that + had coaxed open nearly every window in the street, and summoned to the + window-sills the sickly plants nurtured indoors in winter. Ann Eliza's way + lay westward, toward Broadway; but at the corner she paused and looked + back down the familiar length of the street. Her eyes rested a moment on + the blotched “Bunner Sisters” above the empty window of the shop; then + they travelled on to the overflowing foliage of the Square, above which + was the church tower with the dial that had marked the hours for the + sisters before Ann Eliza had bought the nickel clock. She looked at it all + as though it had been the scene of some unknown life, of which the vague + report had reached her: she felt for herself the only remote pity that + busy people accord to the misfortunes which come to them by hearsay. + </p> + <p> + She walked to Broadway and down to the office of the house-agent to whom + she had entrusted the sub-letting of the shop. She left the key with one + of his clerks, who took it from her as if it had been any one of a + thousand others, and remarked that the weather looked as if spring was + really coming; then she turned and began to move up the great + thoroughfare, which was just beginning to wake to its multitudinous + activities. + </p> + <p> + She walked less rapidly now, studying each shop window as she passed, but + not with the desultory eye of enjoyment: the watchful fixity of her gaze + overlooked everything but the object of its quest. At length she stopped + before a small window wedged between two mammoth buildings, and + displaying, behind its shining plate-glass festooned with muslin, a varied + assortment of sofa-cushions, tea-cloths, pen-wipers, painted calendars and + other specimens of feminine industry. In a corner of the window she had + read, on a slip of paper pasted against the pane: “Wanted, a Saleslady,” + and after studying the display of fancy articles beneath it, she gave her + mantle a twitch, straightened her shoulders and went in. + </p> + <p> + Behind a counter crowded with pin-cushions, watch-holders and other + needlework trifles, a plump young woman with smooth hair sat sewing bows + of ribbon on a scrap basket. The little shop was about the size of the one + on which Ann Eliza had just closed the door; and it looked as fresh and + gay and thriving as she and Evelina had once dreamed of making Bunner + Sisters. The friendly air of the place made her pluck up courage to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Saleslady? Yes, we do want one. Have you any one to recommend?” the young + woman asked, not unkindly. + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza hesitated, disconcerted by the unexpected question; and the + other, cocking her head on one side to study the effect of the bow she had + just sewed on the basket, continued: “We can't afford more than thirty + dollars a month, but the work is light. She would be expected to do a + little fancy sewing between times. We want a bright girl: stylish, and + pleasant manners. You know what I mean. Not over thirty, anyhow; and + nice-looking. Will you write down the name?” + </p> + <p> + Ann Eliza looked at her confusedly. She opened her lips to explain, and + then, without speaking, turned toward the crisply-curtained door. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't you going to leave the <i>ad</i>-dress?” the young woman called out after + her. Ann Eliza went out into the thronged street. The great city, under + the fair spring sky, seemed to throb with the stir of innumerable + beginnings. She walked on, looking for another shop window with a sign in + it. + </p> + <p> + THE END. <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Bunner Sisters, by Edith Wharton + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BUNNER SISTERS *** + +***** This file should be named 311-h.htm or 311-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/311/ + +Produced by Judith Boss and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Scribner's Magazine 60 +(Oct. 1916): 439-58; 60 (Nov. 1916): 575-96. + + + +BUNNER SISTERS + +BY EDITH WHARTON + +PART I + + +I + +In the days when New York's traffic moved at the pace of the +drooping horse-car, when society applauded Christine Nilsson at the +Academy of Music and basked in the sunsets of the Hudson River +School on the walls of the National Academy of Design, an +inconspicuous shop with a single show-window was intimately and +favourably known to the feminine population of the quarter +bordering on Stuyvesant Square. + +It was a very small shop, in a shabby basement, in a side- +street already doomed to decline; and from the miscellaneous +display behind the window-pane, and the brevity of the sign +surmounting it (merely "Bunner Sisters" in blotchy gold on a black +ground) it would have been difficult for the uninitiated to guess +the precise nature of the business carried on within. But that was +of little consequence, since its fame was so purely local that the +customers on whom its existence depended were almost congenitally +aware of the exact range of "goods" to be found at Bunner Sisters'. + +The house of which Bunner Sisters had annexed the basement was +a private dwelling with a brick front, green shutters on weak +hinges, and a dress-maker's sign in the window above the shop. On +each side of its modest three stories stood higher buildings, with +fronts of brown stone, cracked and blistered, cast-iron balconies +and cat-haunted grass-patches behind twisted railings. These +houses too had once been private, but now a cheap lunchroom filled +the basement of one, while the other announced itself, above the +knotty wistaria that clasped its central balcony, as the Mendoza +Family Hotel. It was obvious from the chronic cluster of refuse- +barrels at its area-gate and the blurred surface of its curtainless +windows, that the families frequenting the Mendoza Hotel were not +exacting in their tastes; though they doubtless indulged in as much +fastidiousness as they could afford to pay for, and rather more +than their landlord thought they had a right to express. + +These three houses fairly exemplified the general character of +the street, which, as it stretched eastward, rapidly fell from +shabbiness to squalor, with an increasing frequency of projecting +sign-boards, and of swinging doors that softly shut or opened at +the touch of red-nosed men and pale little girls with broken jugs. +The middle of the street was full of irregular depressions, well +adapted to retain the long swirls of dust and straw and twisted +paper that the wind drove up and down its sad untended length; and +toward the end of the day, when traffic had been active, the +fissured pavement formed a mosaic of coloured hand-bills, lids of +tomato-cans, old shoes, cigar-stumps and banana skins, cemented +together by a layer of mud, or veiled in a powdering of dust, as +the state of the weather determined. + +The sole refuge offered from the contemplation of this +depressing waste was the sight of the Bunner Sisters' window. Its +panes were always well-washed, and though their display of +artificial flowers, bands of scalloped flannel, wire hat-frames, +and jars of home-made preserves, had the undefinable greyish tinge +of objects long preserved in the show-case of a museum, the window +revealed a background of orderly counters and white-washed walls in +pleasant contrast to the adjoining dinginess. + +The Bunner sisters were proud of the neatness of their shop +and content with its humble prosperity. It was not what they had +once imagined it would be, but though it presented but a shrunken +image of their earlier ambitions it enabled them to pay their rent +and keep themselves alive and out of debt; and it was long +since their hopes had soared higher. + +Now and then, however, among their greyer hours there came one +not bright enough to be called sunny, but rather of the silvery +twilight hue which sometimes ends a day of storm. It was such an +hour that Ann Eliza, the elder of the firm, was soberly enjoying as +she sat one January evening in the back room which served as +bedroom, kitchen and parlour to herself and her sister Evelina. In +the shop the blinds had been drawn down, the counters cleared and +the wares in the window lightly covered with an old sheet; but the +shop-door remained unlocked till Evelina, who had taken a parcel to +the dyer's, should come back. + +In the back room a kettle bubbled on the stove, and Ann Eliza +had laid a cloth over one end of the centre table, and placed near +the green-shaded sewing lamp two tea-cups, two plates, a sugar-bowl +and a piece of pie. The rest of the room remained in a greenish +shadow which discreetly veiled the outline of an old-fashioned +mahogany bedstead surmounted by a chromo of a young lady in a +night-gown who clung with eloquently-rolling eyes to a crag +described in illuminated letters as the Rock of Ages; and against +the unshaded windows two rocking-chairs and a sewing-machine were +silhouetted on the dusk. + +Ann Eliza, her small and habitually anxious face smoothed to +unusual serenity, and the streaks of pale hair on her veined +temples shining glossily beneath the lamp, had seated herself at +the table, and was tying up, with her usual fumbling deliberation, +a knobby object wrapped in paper. Now and then, as she struggled +with the string, which was too short, she fancied she heard the +click of the shop-door, and paused to listen for her sister; then, +as no one came, she straightened her spectacles and entered into +renewed conflict with the parcel. In honour of some event of +obvious importance, she had put on her double-dyed and triple- +turned black silk. Age, while bestowing on this garment a +patine worthy of a Renaissance bronze, had deprived it of +whatever curves the wearer's pre-Raphaelite figure had once been +able to impress on it; but this stiffness of outline gave it an air +of sacerdotal state which seemed to emphasize the importance of the +occasion. + +Seen thus, in her sacramental black silk, a wisp of lace +turned over the collar and fastened by a mosaic brooch, and her +face smoothed into harmony with her apparel, Ann Eliza looked ten +years younger than behind the counter, in the heat and burden of +the day. It would have been as difficult to guess her approximate +age as that of the black silk, for she had the same worn and glossy +aspect as her dress; but a faint tinge of pink still lingered on +her cheek-bones, like the reflection of sunset which sometimes +colours the west long after the day is over. + +When she had tied the parcel to her satisfaction, and laid it +with furtive accuracy just opposite her sister's plate, she sat +down, with an air of obviously-assumed indifference, in one of the +rocking-chairs near the window; and a moment later the shop-door +opened and Evelina entered. + +The younger Bunner sister, who was a little taller than her +elder, had a more pronounced nose, but a weaker slope of mouth and +chin. She still permitted herself the frivolity of waving her pale +hair, and its tight little ridges, stiff as the tresses of an +Assyrian statue, were flattened under a dotted veil which ended at +the tip of her cold-reddened nose. In her scant jacket and skirt +of black cashmere she looked singularly nipped and faded; but it +seemed possible that under happier conditions she might still warm +into relative youth. + +"Why, Ann Eliza," she exclaimed, in a thin voice pitched to +chronic fretfulness, "what in the world you got your best silk on +for?" + +Ann Eliza had risen with a blush that made her steel-browed +spectacles incongruous. + +"Why, Evelina, why shouldn't I, I sh'ld like to know? Ain't +it your birthday, dear?" She put out her arms with the awkwardness +of habitually repressed emotion. + +Evelina, without seeming to notice the gesture, threw back the +jacket from her narrow shoulders. + +"Oh, pshaw," she said, less peevishly. "I guess we'd better +give up birthdays. Much as we can do to keep Christmas nowadays." + +"You hadn't oughter say that, Evelina. We ain't so badly off +as all that. I guess you're cold and tired. Set down while I take +the kettle off: it's right on the boil." + +She pushed Evelina toward the table, keeping a sideward eye on +her sister's listless movements, while her own hands were busy with +the kettle. A moment later came the exclamation for which she +waited. + +"Why, Ann Eliza!" Evelina stood transfixed by the sight of +the parcel beside her plate. + +Ann Eliza, tremulously engaged in filling the teapot, lifted +a look of hypocritical surprise. + +"Sakes, Evelina! What's the matter?" + +The younger sister had rapidly untied the string, and drawn +from its wrappings a round nickel clock of the kind to be bought +for a dollar-seventy-five. + +"Oh, Ann Eliza, how could you?" She set the clock down, and +the sisters exchanged agitated glances across the table. + +"Well," the elder retorted, "AIN'T it your birthday?" + +"Yes, but--" + +"Well, and ain't you had to run round the corner to the Square +every morning, rain or shine, to see what time it was, ever since +we had to sell mother's watch last July? Ain't you, Evelina?" + +"Yes, but--" + +"There ain't any buts. We've always wanted a clock and now +we've got one: that's all there is about it. Ain't she a beauty, +Evelina?" Ann Eliza, putting back the kettle on the stove, leaned +over her sister's shoulder to pass an approving hand over the +circular rim of the clock. "Hear how loud she ticks. I was afraid +you'd hear her soon as you come in." + +"No. I wasn't thinking," murmured Evelina. + +"Well, ain't you glad now?" Ann Eliza gently reproached her. +The rebuke had no acerbity, for she knew that Evelina's seeming +indifference was alive with unexpressed scruples. + +"I'm real glad, sister; but you hadn't oughter. We could have +got on well enough without." + +"Evelina Bunner, just you sit down to your tea. I guess I +know what I'd oughter and what I'd hadn't oughter just as well as +you do--I'm old enough!" + +"You're real good, Ann Eliza; but I know you've given up +something you needed to get me this clock." + +"What do I need, I'd like to know? Ain't I got a best black +silk?" the elder sister said with a laugh full of nervous pleasure. + +She poured out Evelina's tea, adding some condensed milk from +the jug, and cutting for her the largest slice of pie; then she +drew up her own chair to the table. + +The two women ate in silence for a few moments before Evelina +began to speak again. "The clock is perfectly lovely and I don't +say it ain't a comfort to have it; but I hate to think what it must +have cost you." + +"No, it didn't, neither," Ann Eliza retorted. "I got it dirt +cheap, if you want to know. And I paid for it out of a little +extra work I did the other night on the machine for Mrs. Hawkins." + +"The baby-waists?" + +"Yes." + +"There, I knew it! You swore to me you'd buy a new pair of +shoes with that money." + +"Well, and s'posin' I didn't want 'em--what then? I've +patched up the old ones as good as new--and I do declare, Evelina +Bunner, if you ask me another question you'll go and spoil all my +pleasure." + +"Very well, I won't," said the younger sister. + +They continued to eat without farther words. Evelina yielded +to her sister's entreaty that she should finish the pie, and poured +out a second cup of tea, into which she put the last lump of sugar; +and between them, on the table, the clock kept up its sociable +tick. + +"Where'd you get it, Ann Eliza?" asked Evelina, fascinated. + +"Where'd you s'pose? Why, right round here, over acrost the +Square, in the queerest little store you ever laid eyes on. I saw +it in the window as I was passing, and I stepped right in and asked +how much it was, and the store-keeper he was real pleasant about +it. He was just the nicest man. I guess he's a German. I told +him I couldn't give much, and he said, well, he knew what hard +times was too. His name's Ramy--Herman Ramy: I saw it +written up over the store. And he told me he used to work at +Tiff'ny's, oh, for years, in the clock-department, and three years +ago he took sick with some kinder fever, and lost his place, and +when he got well they'd engaged somebody else and didn't want him, +and so he started this little store by himself. I guess he's real +smart, and he spoke quite like an educated man--but he looks sick." + +Evelina was listening with absorbed attention. In the narrow +lives of the two sisters such an episode was not to be under-rated. + +"What you say his name was?" she asked as Ann Eliza paused. + +"Herman Ramy." + +"How old is he?" + +"Well, I couldn't exactly tell you, he looked so sick--but I +don't b'lieve he's much over forty." + +By this time the plates had been cleared and the teapot +emptied, and the two sisters rose from the table. Ann Eliza, tying +an apron over her black silk, carefully removed all traces of the +meal; then, after washing the cups and plates, and putting them +away in a cupboard, she drew her rocking-chair to the lamp and sat +down to a heap of mending. Evelina, meanwhile, had been roaming +about the room in search of an abiding-place for the clock. A +rosewood what-not with ornamental fret-work hung on the wall beside +the devout young lady in dishabille, and after much weighing of +alternatives the sisters decided to dethrone a broken china vase +filled with dried grasses which had long stood on the top shelf, +and to put the clock in its place; the vase, after farther +consideration, being relegated to a small table covered with blue +and white beadwork, which held a Bible and prayer-book, and an +illustrated copy of Longfellow's poems given as a school-prize to +their father. + +This change having been made, and the effect studied from +every angle of the room, Evelina languidly put her pinking-machine +on the table, and sat down to the monotonous work of pinking a heap +of black silk flounces. The strips of stuff slid slowly to the +floor at her side, and the clock, from its commanding altitude, +kept time with the dispiriting click of the instrument under her +fingers. + + +II + + +The purchase of Evelina's clock had been a more important +event in the life of Ann Eliza Bunner than her younger sister could +divine. In the first place, there had been the demoralizing +satisfaction of finding herself in possession of a sum of money +which she need not put into the common fund, but could spend as she +chose, without consulting Evelina, and then the excitement of her +stealthy trips abroad, undertaken on the rare occasions when she +could trump up a pretext for leaving the shop; since, as a rule, it +was Evelina who took the bundles to the dyer's, and delivered the +purchases of those among their customers who were too genteel to be +seen carrying home a bonnet or a bundle of pinking--so that, had it +not been for the excuse of having to see Mrs. Hawkins's teething +baby, Ann Eliza would hardly have known what motive to allege for +deserting her usual seat behind the counter. + +The infrequency of her walks made them the chief events of her +life. The mere act of going out from the monastic quiet of the +shop into the tumult of the streets filled her with a subdued +excitement which grew too intense for pleasure as she was swallowed +by the engulfing roar of Broadway or Third Avenue, and began to do +timid battle with their incessant cross-currents of humanity. +After a glance or two into the great show-windows she usually +allowed herself to be swept back into the shelter of a side-street, +and finally regained her own roof in a state of breathless +bewilderment and fatigue; but gradually, as her nerves were soothed +by the familiar quiet of the little shop, and the click of +Evelina's pinking-machine, certain sights and sounds would detach +themselves from the torrent along which she had been swept, and she +would devote the rest of the day to a mental reconstruction of the +different episodes of her walk, till finally it took shape in her +thought as a consecutive and highly-coloured experience, from +which, for weeks afterwards, she would detach some fragmentary +recollection in the course of her long dialogues with her sister. + +But when, to the unwonted excitement of going out, was added +the intenser interest of looking for a present for Evelina, +Ann Eliza's agitation, sharpened by concealment, actually preyed +upon her rest; and it was not till the present had been given, and +she had unbosomed herself of the experiences connected with its +purchase, that she could look back with anything like composure to +that stirring moment of her life. From that day forward, however, +she began to take a certain tranquil pleasure in thinking of Mr. +Ramy's small shop, not unlike her own in its countrified obscurity, +though the layer of dust which covered its counter and shelves made +the comparison only superficially acceptable. Still, she did not +judge the state of the shop severely, for Mr. Ramy had told her +that he was alone in the world, and lone men, she was aware, did +not know how to deal with dust. It gave her a good deal of +occupation to wonder why he had never married, or if, on the other +hand, he were a widower, and had lost all his dear little children; +and she scarcely knew which alternative seemed to make him the more +interesting. In either case, his life was assuredly a sad one; and +she passed many hours in speculating on the manner in which he +probably spent his evenings. She knew he lived at the back of his +shop, for she had caught, on entering, a glimpse of a dingy room +with a tumbled bed; and the pervading smell of cold fry suggested +that he probably did his own cooking. She wondered if he did not +often make his tea with water that had not boiled, and asked +herself, almost jealously, who looked after the shop while he went +to market. Then it occurred to her as likely that he bought his +provisions at the same market as Evelina; and she was fascinated by +the thought that he and her sister might constantly be meeting in +total unconsciousness of the link between them. Whenever she +reached this stage in her reflexions she lifted a furtive glance to +the clock, whose loud staccato tick was becoming a part of her +inmost being. + +The seed sown by these long hours of meditation germinated at +last in the secret wish to go to market some morning in Evelina's +stead. As this purpose rose to the surface of Ann Eliza's thoughts +she shrank back shyly from its contemplation. A plan so steeped in +duplicity had never before taken shape in her crystalline soul. +How was it possible for her to consider such a step? And, besides, +(she did not possess sufficient logic to mark the downward trend of +this "besides"), what excuse could she make that would not excite +her sister's curiosity? From this second query it was an easy +descent to the third: how soon could she manage to go? + +It was Evelina herself, who furnished the necessary pretext by +awaking with a sore throat on the day when she usually went to +market. It was a Saturday, and as they always had their bit of +steak on Sunday the expedition could not be postponed, and it +seemed natural that Ann Eliza, as she tied an old stocking around +Evelina's throat, should announce her intention of stepping round +to the butcher's. + +"Oh, Ann Eliza, they'll cheat you so," her sister wailed. + +Ann Eliza brushed aside the imputation with a smile, and a few +minutes later, having set the room to rights, and cast a last +glance at the shop, she was tying on her bonnet with fumbling +haste. + +The morning was damp and cold, with a sky full of sulky clouds +that would not make room for the sun, but as yet dropped only an +occasional snow-flake. In the early light the street looked its +meanest and most neglected; but to Ann Eliza, never greatly +troubled by any untidiness for which she was not responsible, it +seemed to wear a singularly friendly aspect. + +A few minutes' walk brought her to the market where Evelina +made her purchases, and where, if he had any sense of topographical +fitness, Mr. Ramy must also deal. + +Ann Eliza, making her way through the outskirts of potato- +barrels and flabby fish, found no one in the shop but the gory- +aproned butcher who stood in the background cutting chops. + +As she approached him across the tesselation of fish-scales, +blood and saw-dust, he laid aside his cleaver and not +unsympathetically asked: "Sister sick?" + +"Oh, not very--jest a cold," she answered, as guiltily as if +Evelina's illness had been feigned. "We want a steak as usual, +please--and my sister said you was to be sure to give me jest as +good a cut as if it was her," she added with child-like candour. + +"Oh, that's all right." The butcher picked up his weapon with +a grin. "Your sister knows a cut as well as any of us," he +remarked. + +In another moment, Ann Eliza reflected, the steak would be cut +and wrapped up, and no choice left her but to turn her disappointed +steps toward home. She was too shy to try to delay the butcher by +such conversational arts as she possessed, but the approach of a +deaf old lady in an antiquated bonnet and mantle gave her her +opportunity. + +"Wait on her first, please," Ann Eliza whispered. "I ain't in +any hurry." + +The butcher advanced to his new customer, and Ann Eliza, +palpitating in the back of the shop, saw that the old lady's +hesitations between liver and pork chops were likely to be +indefinitely prolonged. They were still unresolved when she was +interrupted by the entrance of a blowsy Irish girl with a basket on +her arm. The newcomer caused a momentary diversion, and when she +had departed the old lady, who was evidently as intolerant of +interruption as a professional story-teller, insisted on returning +to the beginning of her complicated order, and weighing anew, with +an anxious appeal to the butcher's arbitration, the relative +advantages of pork and liver. But even her hesitations, and the +intrusion on them of two or three other customers, were of no +avail, for Mr. Ramy was not among those who entered the shop; and +at last Ann Eliza, ashamed of staying longer, reluctantly claimed +her steak, and walked home through the thickening snow. + +Even to her simple judgment the vanity of her hopes was plain, +and in the clear light that disappointment turns upon our actions +she wondered how she could have been foolish enough to suppose +that, even if Mr. Ramy DID go to that particular market, he +would hit on the same day and hour as herself. + + +There followed a colourless week unmarked by farther incident. +The old stocking cured Evelina's throat, and Mrs. Hawkins dropped +in once or twice to talk of her baby's teeth; some new orders for +pinking were received, and Evelina sold a bonnet to the lady with +puffed sleeves. The lady with puffed sleeves--a resident of "the +Square," whose name they had never learned, because she always +carried her own parcels home--was the most distinguished and +interesting figure on their horizon. She was youngish, she was +elegant (as the title they had given her implied), and she had a +sweet sad smile about which they had woven many histories; but even +the news of her return to town--it was her first apparition that +year--failed to arouse Ann Eliza's interest. All the small daily +happenings which had once sufficed to fill the hours now appeared +to her in their deadly insignificance; and for the first time in +her long years of drudgery she rebelled at the dullness of her +life. With Evelina such fits of discontent were habitual and +openly proclaimed, and Ann Eliza still excused them as one of the +prerogatives of youth. Besides, Evelina had not been intended by +Providence to pine in such a narrow life: in the original plan of +things, she had been meant to marry and have a baby, to wear silk +on Sundays, and take a leading part in a Church circle. Hitherto +opportunity had played her false; and for all her superior +aspirations and carefully crimped hair she had remained as obscure +and unsought as Ann Eliza. But the elder sister, who had long +since accepted her own fate, had never accepted Evelina's. Once a +pleasant young man who taught in Sunday-school had paid the younger +Miss Bunner a few shy visits. That was years since, and he had +speedily vanished from their view. Whether he had carried with him +any of Evelina's illusions, Ann Eliza had never discovered; but his +attentions had clad her sister in a halo of exquisite +possibilities. + +Ann Eliza, in those days, had never dreamed of allowing +herself the luxury of self-pity: it seemed as much a personal right +of Evelina's as her elaborately crinkled hair. But now she began +to transfer to herself a portion of the sympathy she had so long +bestowed on Evelina. She had at last recognized her right to set +up some lost opportunities of her own; and once that dangerous +precedent established, they began to crowd upon her memory. + +It was at this stage of Ann Eliza's transformation that +Evelina, looking up one evening from her work, said suddenly: "My! +She's stopped." + +Ann Eliza, raising her eyes from a brown merino seam, followed +her sister's glance across the room. It was a Monday, and they +always wound the clock on Sundays. + +"Are you sure you wound her yesterday, Evelina?" + +"Jest as sure as I live. She must be broke. I'll go and +see." + +Evelina laid down the hat she was trimming, and took the clock +from its shelf. + +"There--I knew it! She's wound jest as TIGHT--what you +suppose's happened to her, Ann Eliza?" + +"I dunno, I'm sure," said the elder sister, wiping her +spectacles before proceeding to a close examination of the clock. + +With anxiously bent heads the two women shook and turned it, +as though they were trying to revive a living thing; but it +remained unresponsive to their touch, and at length Evelina laid it +down with a sigh. + +"Seems like somethin' DEAD, don't it, Ann Eliza? How +still the room is!" + +"Yes, ain't it?" + +"Well, I'll put her back where she belongs," Evelina +continued, in the tone of one about to perform the last offices for +the departed. "And I guess," she added, "you'll have to step round +to Mr. Ramy's to-morrow, and see if he can fix her." + +Ann Eliza's face burned. "I--yes, I guess I'll have to," she +stammered, stooping to pick up a spool of cotton which had rolled +to the floor. A sudden heart-throb stretched the seams of her flat +alpaca bosom, and a pulse leapt to life in each of her temples. + +That night, long after Evelina slept, Ann Eliza lay awake in +the unfamiliar silence, more acutely conscious of the nearness of +the crippled clock than when it had volubly told out the minutes. +The next morning she woke from a troubled dream of having carried +it to Mr. Ramy's, and found that he and his shop had vanished; and +all through the day's occupations the memory of this dream +oppressed her. + +It had been agreed that Ann Eliza should take the clock to be +repaired as soon as they had dined; but while they were still at +table a weak-eyed little girl in a black apron stabbed with +innumerable pins burst in on them with the cry: "Oh, Miss Bunner, +for mercy's sake! Miss Mellins has been took again." + +Miss Mellins was the dress-maker upstairs, and the weak-eyed +child one of her youthful apprentices. + +Ann Eliza started from her seat. "I'll come at once. Quick, +Evelina, the cordial!" + +By this euphemistic name the sisters designated a bottle of +cherry brandy, the last of a dozen inherited from their +grandmother, which they kept locked in their cupboard against such +emergencies. A moment later, cordial in hand, Ann Eliza was +hurrying upstairs behind the weak-eyed child. + +Miss Mellins' "turn" was sufficiently serious to detain Ann +Eliza for nearly two hours, and dusk had fallen when she took up +the depleted bottle of cordial and descended again to the shop. It +was empty, as usual, and Evelina sat at her pinking-machine in the +back room. Ann Eliza was still agitated by her efforts to restore +the dress-maker, but in spite of her preoccupation she was struck, +as soon as she entered, by the loud tick of the clock, which still +stood on the shelf where she had left it. + +"Why, she's going!" she gasped, before Evelina could question +her about Miss Mellins. "Did she start up again by herself?" + +"Oh, no; but I couldn't stand not knowing what time it was, +I've got so accustomed to having her round; and just after you went +upstairs Mrs. Hawkins dropped in, so I asked her to tend the store +for a minute, and I clapped on my things and ran right round to Mr. +Ramy's. It turned out there wasn't anything the matter with her-- +nothin' on'y a speck of dust in the works--and he fixed her for me +in a minute and I brought her right back. Ain't it lovely to hear +her going again? But tell me about Miss Mellins, quick!" + +For a moment Ann Eliza found no words. Not till she learned +that she had missed her chance did she understand how many hopes +had hung upon it. Even now she did not know why she had wanted so +much to see the clock-maker again. + +"I s'pose it's because nothing's ever happened to me," she +thought, with a twinge of envy for the fate which gave +Evelina every opportunity that came their way. "She had the +Sunday-school teacher too," Ann Eliza murmured to herself; but she +was well-trained in the arts of renunciation, and after a scarcely +perceptible pause she plunged into a detailed description of the +dress-maker's "turn." + +Evelina, when her curiosity was roused, was an insatiable +questioner, and it was supper-time before she had come to the end +of her enquiries about Miss Mellins; but when the two sisters had +seated themselves at their evening meal Ann Eliza at last found a +chance to say: "So she on'y had a speck of dust in her." + +Evelina understood at once that the reference was not to Miss +Mellins. "Yes--at least he thinks so," she answered, helping +herself as a matter of course to the first cup of tea. + +"On'y to think!" murmured Ann Eliza. + +"But he isn't SURE," Evelina continued, absently +pushing the teapot toward her sister. "It may be something wrong +with the--I forget what he called it. Anyhow, he said he'd call +round and see, day after to-morrow, after supper." + +"Who said?" gasped Ann Eliza. + +"Why, Mr. Ramy, of course. I think he's real nice, Ann Eliza. +And I don't believe he's forty; but he DOES look sick. I +guess he's pretty lonesome, all by himself in that store. He as +much as told me so, and somehow"--Evelina paused and bridled--"I +kinder thought that maybe his saying he'd call round about the +clock was on'y just an excuse. He said it just as I was going out +of the store. What you think, Ann Eliza?" + +"Oh, I don't har'ly know." To save herself, Ann Eliza could +produce nothing warmer. + +"Well, I don't pretend to be smarter than other folks," said +Evelina, putting a conscious hand to her hair, "but I guess Mr. +Herman Ramy wouldn't be sorry to pass an evening here, 'stead of +spending it all alone in that poky little place of his." + +Her self-consciousness irritated Ann Eliza. + +"I guess he's got plenty of friends of his own," she said, +almost harshly. + +"No, he ain't, either. He's got hardly any." + +"Did he tell you that too?" Even to her own ears there was a +faint sneer in the interrogation. + +"Yes, he did," said Evelina, dropping her lids with a smile. +"He seemed to be just crazy to talk to somebody--somebody +agreeable, I mean. I think the man's unhappy, Ann Eliza." + +"So do I," broke from the elder sister. + +"He seems such an educated man, too. He was reading the paper +when I went in. Ain't it sad to think of his being reduced to that +little store, after being years at Tiff'ny's, and one of the head +men in their clock-department?" + +"He told you all that?" + +"Why, yes. I think he'd a' told me everything ever happened +to him if I'd had the time to stay and listen. I tell you he's +dead lonely, Ann Eliza." + +"Yes," said Ann Eliza. + + +III + + +Two days afterward, Ann Eliza noticed that Evelina, before +they sat down to supper, pinned a crimson bow under her collar; and +when the meal was finished the younger sister, who seldom concerned +herself with the clearing of the table, set about with nervous +haste to help Ann Eliza in the removal of the dishes. + +"I hate to see food mussing about," she grumbled. "Ain't it +hateful having to do everything in one room?" + +"Oh, Evelina, I've always thought we was so comfortable," Ann +Eliza protested. + +"Well, so we are, comfortable enough; but I don't suppose +there's any harm in my saying I wisht we had a parlour, is there? +Anyway, we might manage to buy a screen to hide the bed." + +Ann Eliza coloured. There was something vaguely embarrassing +in Evelina's suggestion. + +"I always think if we ask for more what we have may be taken +from us," she ventured. + +"Well, whoever took it wouldn't get much," Evelina retorted +with a laugh as she swept up the table-cloth. + +A few moments later the back room was in its usual flawless +order and the two sisters had seated themselves near the lamp. Ann +Eliza had taken up her sewing, and Evelina was preparing to make +artificial flowers. The sisters usually relegated this +more delicate business to the long leisure of the summer months; +but to-night Evelina had brought out the box which lay all winter +under the bed, and spread before her a bright array of muslin +petals, yellow stamens and green corollas, and a tray of little +implements curiously suggestive of the dental art. Ann Eliza made +no remark on this unusual proceeding; perhaps she guessed why, for +that evening her sister had chosen a graceful task. + +Presently a knock on the outer door made them look up; but +Evelina, the first on her feet, said promptly: "Sit still. I'll +see who it is." + +Ann Eliza was glad to sit still: the baby's petticoat that she +was stitching shook in her fingers. + +"Sister, here's Mr. Ramy come to look at the clock," said +Evelina, a moment later, in the high drawl she cultivated before +strangers; and a shortish man with a pale bearded face and upturned +coat-collar came stiffly into the room. + +Ann Eliza let her work fall as she stood up. "You're very +welcome, I'm sure, Mr. Ramy. It's real kind of you to call." + +"Nod ad all, ma'am." A tendency to illustrate Grimm's law in +the interchange of his consonants betrayed the clockmaker's +nationality, but he was evidently used to speaking English, or at +least the particular branch of the vernacular with which the Bunner +sisters were familiar. "I don't like to led any clock go out of my +store without being sure it gives satisfaction," he added. + +"Oh--but we were satisfied," Ann Eliza assured him. + +"But I wasn't, you see, ma'am," said Mr. Ramy looking slowly +about the room, "nor I won't be, not till I see that clock's going +all right." + +"May I assist you off with your coat, Mr. Ramy?" Evelina +interposed. She could never trust Ann Eliza to remember these +opening ceremonies. + +"Thank you, ma'am," he replied, and taking his thread-bare +over-coat and shabby hat she laid them on a chair with the gesture +she imagined the lady with the puffed sleeves might make use of on +similar occasions. Ann Eliza's social sense was roused, and she +felt that the next act of hospitality must be hers. "Won't you +suit yourself to a seat?" she suggested. "My sister will reach +down the clock; but I'm sure she's all right again. She's went +beautiful ever since you fixed her." + +"Dat's good," said Mr. Ramy. His lips parted in a smile which +showed a row of yellowish teeth with one or two gaps in it; but in +spite of this disclosure Ann Eliza thought his smile extremely +pleasant: there was something wistful and conciliating in it which +agreed with the pathos of his sunken cheeks and prominent eyes. As +he took the lamp, the light fell on his bulging forehead and wide +skull thinly covered with grayish hair. His hands were pale and +broad, with knotty joints and square finger-tips rimmed with grime; +but his touch was as light as a woman's. + +"Well, ladies, dat clock's all right," he pronounced. + +"I'm sure we're very much obliged to you," said Evelina, +throwing a glance at her sister. + +"Oh," Ann Eliza murmured, involuntarily answering the +admonition. She selected a key from the bunch that hung at her +waist with her cutting-out scissors, and fitting it into the lock +of the cupboard, brought out the cherry brandy and three old- +fashioned glasses engraved with vine-wreaths. + +"It's a very cold night," she said, "and maybe you'd like a +sip of this cordial. It was made a great while ago by our +grandmother." + +"It looks fine," said Mr. Ramy bowing, and Ann Eliza filled +the glasses. In her own and Evelina's she poured only a few drops, +but she filled their guest's to the brim. "My sister and I seldom +take wine," she explained. + +With another bow, which included both his hostesses, Mr. Ramy +drank off the cherry brandy and pronounced it excellent. + +Evelina meanwhile, with an assumption of industry intended to +put their guest at ease, had taken up her instruments and was +twisting a rose-petal into shape. + +"You make artificial flowers, I see, ma'am," said Mr. Ramy +with interest. "It's very pretty work. I had a lady-vriend in +Shermany dat used to make flowers." He put out a square finger-tip +to touch the petal. + +Evelina blushed a little. "You left Germany long ago, I +suppose?" + +"Dear me yes, a goot while ago. I was only ninedeen when I +come to the States." + +After this the conversation dragged on intermittently till Mr. +Ramy, peering about the room with the short-sighted glance of his +race, said with an air of interest: "You're pleasantly fixed here; +it looks real cosy." The note of wistfulness in his voice was +obscurely moving to Ann Eliza. + +"Oh, we live very plainly," said Evelina, with an affectation +of grandeur deeply impressive to her sister. "We have very simple +tastes." + +"You look real comfortable, anyhow," said Mr. Ramy. His +bulging eyes seemed to muster the details of the scene with a +gentle envy. "I wisht I had as good a store; but I guess no blace +seems home-like when you're always alone in it." + +For some minutes longer the conversation moved on at this +desultory pace, and then Mr. Ramy, who had been obviously nerving +himself for the difficult act of departure, took his leave with an +abruptness which would have startled anyone used to the subtler +gradations of intercourse. But to Ann Eliza and her sister there +was nothing surprising in his abrupt retreat. The long-drawn +agonies of preparing to leave, and the subsequent dumb plunge +through the door, were so usual in their circle that they would +have been as much embarrassed as Mr. Ramy if he had tried to put +any fluency into his adieux. + +After he had left both sisters remained silent for a while; +then Evelina, laying aside her unfinished flower, said: "I'll go +and lock up." + + + +IV + + +Intolerably monotonous seemed now to the Bunner sisters the +treadmill routine of the shop, colourless and long their evenings +about the lamp, aimless their habitual interchange of words to the +weary accompaniment of the sewing and pinking machines. + +It was perhaps with the idea of relieving the tension of their +mood that Evelina, the following Sunday, suggested inviting Miss +Mellins to supper. The Bunner sisters were not in a position to be +lavish of the humblest hospitality, but two or three times in the +year they shared their evening meal with a friend; and Miss +Mellins, still flushed with the importance of her "turn," seemed +the most interesting guest they could invite. + +As the three women seated themselves at the supper-table, +embellished by the unwonted addition of pound cake and sweet +pickles, the dress-maker's sharp swarthy person stood out vividly +between the neutral-tinted sisters. Miss Mellins was a small woman +with a glossy yellow face and a frizz of black hair bristling with +imitation tortoise-shell pins. Her sleeves had a fashionable cut, +and half a dozen metal bangles rattled on her wrists. Her voice +rattled like her bangles as she poured forth a stream of anecdote +and ejaculation; and her round black eyes jumped with acrobatic +velocity from one face to another. Miss Mellins was always having +or hearing of amazing adventures. She had surprised a burglar in +her room at midnight (though how he got there, what he robbed her +of, and by what means he escaped had never been quite clear to her +auditors); she had been warned by anonymous letters that her grocer +(a rejected suitor) was putting poison in her tea; she had a +customer who was shadowed by detectives, and another (a very +wealthy lady) who had been arrested in a department store for +kleptomania; she had been present at a spiritualist seance where an +old gentleman had died in a fit on seeing a materialization of his +mother-in-law; she had escaped from two fires in her night-gown, +and at the funeral of her first cousin the horses attached to the +hearse had run away and smashed the coffin, precipitating her +relative into an open man-hole before the eyes of his distracted +family. + +A sceptical observer might have explained Miss Mellins's +proneness to adventure by the fact that she derived her chief +mental nourishment from the Police Gazette and the +Fireside Weekly; but her lot was cast in a circle where such +insinuations were not likely to be heard, and where the title-role +in blood-curdling drama had long been her recognized right. + +"Yes," she was now saying, her emphatic eyes on Ann Eliza, +"you may not believe it, Miss Bunner, and I don't know's I +should myself if anybody else was to tell me, but over a year +before ever I was born, my mother she went to see a gypsy fortune- +teller that was exhibited in a tent on the Battery with the green- +headed lady, though her father warned her not to--and what you +s'pose she told her? Why, she told her these very words--says she: +'Your next child'll be a girl with jet-black curls, and she'll +suffer from spasms.'" + +"Mercy!" murmured Ann Eliza, a ripple of sympathy running down +her spine. + +"D'you ever have spasms before, Miss Mellins?" Evelina asked. + +"Yes, ma'am," the dress-maker declared. "And where'd you +suppose I had 'em? Why, at my cousin Emma McIntyre's wedding, her +that married the apothecary over in Jersey City, though her mother +appeared to her in a dream and told her she'd rue the day she done +it, but as Emma said, she got more advice than she wanted from the +living, and if she was to listen to spectres too she'd never be +sure what she'd ought to do and what she'd oughtn't; but I will say +her husband took to drink, and she never was the same woman after +her fust baby--well, they had an elegant church wedding, and what +you s'pose I saw as I was walkin' up the aisle with the wedding +percession?" + +"Well?" Ann Eliza whispered, forgetting to thread her needle. + +"Why, a coffin, to be sure, right on the top step of the +chancel--Emma's folks is 'piscopalians and she would have a church +wedding, though HIS mother raised a terrible rumpus over it- +-well, there it set, right in front of where the minister stood +that was going to marry 'em, a coffin covered with a black velvet +pall with a gold fringe, and a 'Gates Ajar' in white camellias atop +of it." + +"Goodness," said Evelina, starting, "there's a knock!" + +"Who can it be?" shuddered Ann Eliza, still under the spell of +Miss Mellins's hallucination. + +Evelina rose and lit a candle to guide her through the shop. +They heard her turn the key of the outer door, and a gust of night +air stirred the close atmosphere of the back room; then there was +a sound of vivacious exclamations, and Evelina returned with Mr. +Ramy. + +Ann Eliza's heart rocked like a boat in a heavy sea, and the +dress-maker's eyes, distended with curiosity, sprang eagerly from +face to face. + +"I just thought I'd call in again," said Mr. Ramy, evidently +somewhat disconcerted by the presence of Miss Mellins. "Just to +see how the clock's behaving," he added with his hollow-cheeked +smile. + +"Oh, she's behaving beautiful," said Ann Eliza; "but we're +real glad to see you all the same. Miss Mellins, let me make you +acquainted with Mr. Ramy." + +The dress-maker tossed back her head and dropped her lids in +condescending recognition of the stranger's presence; and Mr. Ramy +responded by an awkward bow. After the first moment of constraint +a renewed sense of satisfaction filled the consciousness of the +three women. The Bunner sisters were not sorry to let Miss Mellins +see that they received an occasional evening visit, and Miss +Mellins was clearly enchanted at the opportunity of pouring her +latest tale into a new ear. As for Mr. Ramy, he adjusted himself +to the situation with greater ease than might have been expected, +and Evelina, who had been sorry that he should enter the room while +the remains of supper still lingered on the table, blushed with +pleasure at his good-humored offer to help her "glear away." + +The table cleared, Ann Eliza suggested a game of cards; and it +was after eleven o'clock when Mr. Ramy rose to take leave. His +adieux were so much less abrupt than on the occasion of his first +visit that Evelina was able to satisfy her sense of etiquette by +escorting him, candle in hand, to the outer door; and as the two +disappeared into the shop Miss Mellins playfully turned to Ann +Eliza. + +"Well, well, Miss Bunner," she murmured, jerking her chin in +the direction of the retreating figures, "I'd no idea your sister +was keeping company. On'y to think!" + +Ann Eliza, roused from a state of dreamy beatitude, turned her +timid eyes on the dress-maker. + +"Oh, you're mistaken, Miss Mellins. We don't har'ly know Mr. +Ramy." + +Miss Mellins smiled incredulously. "You go 'long, Miss +Bunner. I guess there'll be a wedding somewheres round +here before spring, and I'll be real offended if I ain't asked to +make the dress. I've always seen her in a gored satin with +rooshings." + +Ann Eliza made no answer. She had grown very pale, and her +eyes lingered searchingly on Evelina as the younger sister re- +entered the room. Evelina's cheeks were pink, and her blue eyes +glittered; but it seemed to Ann Eliza that the coquettish tilt of +her head regrettably emphasized the weakness of her receding chin. +It was the first time that Ann Eliza had ever seen a flaw in her +sister's beauty, and her involuntary criticism startled her like a +secret disloyalty. + +That night, after the light had been put out, the elder sister +knelt longer than usual at her prayers. In the silence of the +darkened room she was offering up certain dreams and aspirations +whose brief blossoming had lent a transient freshness to her days. +She wondered now how she could ever have supposed that Mr. Ramy's +visits had another cause than the one Miss Mellins suggested. Had +not the sight of Evelina first inspired him with a sudden +solicitude for the welfare of the clock? And what charms but +Evelina's could have induced him to repeat his visit? Grief held +up its torch to the frail fabric of Ann Eliza's illusions, and with +a firm heart she watched them shrivel into ashes; then, rising from +her knees full of the chill joy of renunciation, she laid a kiss on +the crimping pins of the sleeping Evelina and crept under the +bedspread at her side. + + +V + + +During the months that followed, Mr. Ramy visited the sisters +with increasing frequency. It became his habit to call on them +every Sunday evening, and occasionally during the week he would +find an excuse for dropping in unannounced as they were settling +down to their work beside the lamp. Ann Eliza noticed that Evelina +now took the precaution of putting on her crimson bow every evening +before supper, and that she had refurbished with a bit of carefully +washed lace the black silk which they still called new because it +had been bought a year after Ann Eliza's. + +Mr. Ramy, as he grew more intimate, became less +conversational, and after the sisters had blushingly accorded him +the privilege of a pipe he began to permit himself long stretches +of meditative silence that were not without charm to his hostesses. +There was something at once fortifying and pacific in the sense of +that tranquil male presence in an atmosphere which had so long +quivered with little feminine doubts and distresses; and the +sisters fell into the habit of saying to each other, in moments of +uncertainty: "We'll ask Mr. Ramy when he comes," and of accepting +his verdict, whatever it might be, with a fatalistic readiness that +relieved them of all responsibility. + +When Mr. Ramy drew the pipe from his mouth and became, in his +turn, confidential, the acuteness of their sympathy grew almost +painful to the sisters. With passionate participation they +listened to the story of his early struggles in Germany, and of the +long illness which had been the cause of his recent misfortunes. +The name of the Mrs. Hochmuller (an old comrade's widow) who had +nursed him through his fever was greeted with reverential sighs and +an inward pang of envy whenever it recurred in his biographical +monologues, and once when the sisters were alone Evelina called a +responsive flush to Ann Eliza's brow by saying suddenly, without +the mention of any name: "I wonder what she's like?" + +One day toward spring Mr. Ramy, who had by this time become as +much a part of their lives as the letter-carrier or the milkman, +ventured the suggestion that the ladies should accompany him to an +exhibition of stereopticon views which was to take place at +Chickering Hall on the following evening. + +After their first breathless "Oh!" of pleasure there was a +silence of mutual consultation, which Ann Eliza at last broke by +saying: "You better go with Mr. Ramy, Evelina. I guess we don't +both want to leave the store at night." + +Evelina, with such protests as politeness demanded, acquiesced +in this opinion, and spent the next day in trimming a white chip +bonnet with forget-me-nots of her own making. Ann Eliza brought +out her mosaic brooch, a cashmere scarf of their mother's was taken +from its linen cerements, and thus adorned Evelina +blushingly departed with Mr. Ramy, while the elder sister sat down +in her place at the pinking-machine. + +It seemed to Ann Eliza that she was alone for hours, and she +was surprised, when she heard Evelina tap on the door, to find that +the clock marked only half-past ten. + +"It must have gone wrong again," she reflected as she rose to +let her sister in. + +The evening had been brilliantly interesting, and several +striking stereopticon views of Berlin had afforded Mr. Ramy the +opportunity of enlarging on the marvels of his native city. + +"He said he'd love to show it all to me!" Evelina declared as +Ann Eliza conned her glowing face. "Did you ever hear anything so +silly? I didn't know which way to look." + +Ann Eliza received this confidence with a sympathetic murmur. + +"My bonnet IS becoming, isn't it?" Evelina went on +irrelevantly, smiling at her reflection in the cracked glass above +the chest of drawers. + +"You're jest lovely," said Ann Eliza. + + +Spring was making itself unmistakably known to the distrustful +New Yorker by an increased harshness of wind and prevalence of +dust, when one day Evelina entered the back room at supper-time +with a cluster of jonquils in her hand. + +"I was just that foolish," she answered Ann Eliza's wondering +glance, "I couldn't help buyin' 'em. I felt as if I must have +something pretty to look at right away." + +"Oh, sister," said Ann Eliza, in trembling sympathy. She felt +that special indulgence must be conceded to those in Evelina's +state since she had had her own fleeting vision of such mysterious +longings as the words betrayed. + +Evelina, meanwhile, had taken the bundle of dried grasses out +of the broken china vase, and was putting the jonquils in their +place with touches that lingered down their smooth stems and blade- +like leaves. + +"Ain't they pretty?" she kept repeating as she gathered the +flowers into a starry circle. "Seems as if spring was really here, +don't it?" + +Ann Eliza remembered that it was Mr. Ramy's evening. + +When he came, the Teutonic eye for anything that blooms made +him turn at once to the jonquils. + +"Ain't dey pretty?" he said. "Seems like as if de spring was +really here." + +"Don't it?" Evelina exclaimed, thrilled by the coincidence of +their thought. "It's just what I was saying to my sister." + +Ann Eliza got up suddenly and moved away; she remembered that +she had not wound the clock the day before. Evelina was sitting at +the table; the jonquils rose slenderly between herself and Mr. +Ramy. + +"Oh," she murmured with vague eyes, "how I'd love to get away +somewheres into the country this very minute--somewheres where it +was green and quiet. Seems as if I couldn't stand the city another +day." But Ann Eliza noticed that she was looking at Mr. Ramy, and +not at the flowers. + +"I guess we might go to Cendral Park some Sunday," their +visitor suggested. "Do you ever go there, Miss Evelina?" + +"No, we don't very often; leastways we ain't been for a good +while." She sparkled at the prospect. "It would be lovely, +wouldn't it, Ann Eliza?" + +"Why, yes," said the elder sister, coming back to her seat. + +"Well, why don't we go next Sunday?" Mr. Ramy continued. "And +we'll invite Miss Mellins too--that'll make a gosy little party." + +That night when Evelina undressed she took a jonquil from the +vase and pressed it with a certain ostentation between the leaves +of her prayer-book. Ann Eliza, covertly observing her, felt that +Evelina was not sorry to be observed, and that her own acute +consciousness of the act was somehow regarded as magnifying its +significance. + +The following Sunday broke blue and warm. The Bunner sisters +were habitual church-goers, but for once they left their prayer- +books on the what-not, and ten o'clock found them, gloved and +bonneted, awaiting Miss Mellins's knock. Miss Mellins presently +appeared in a glitter of jet sequins and spangles, with a tale of +having seen a strange man prowling under her windows till he was +called off at dawn by a confederate's whistle; and shortly +afterward came Mr. Ramy, his hair brushed with more than +usual care, his broad hands encased in gloves of olive-green kid. + +The little party set out for the nearest street-car, and a +flutter of mingled gratification and embarrassment stirred Ann +Eliza's bosom when it was found that Mr. Ramy intended to pay their +fares. Nor did he fail to live up to this opening liberality; for +after guiding them through the Mall and the Ramble he led the way +to a rustic restaurant where, also at his expense, they fared +idyllically on milk and lemon-pie. + +After this they resumed their walk, strolling on with the +slowness of unaccustomed holiday-makers from one path to another-- +through budding shrubberies, past grass-banks sprinkled with lilac +crocuses, and under rocks on which the forsythia lay like sudden +sunshine. Everything about her seemed new and miraculously lovely +to Ann Eliza; but she kept her feelings to herself, leaving it to +Evelina to exclaim at the hepaticas under the shady ledges, and to +Miss Mellins, less interested in the vegetable than in the human +world, to remark significantly on the probable history of the +persons they met. All the alleys were thronged with promenaders +and obstructed by perambulators; and Miss Mellins's running +commentary threw a glare of lurid possibilities over the placid +family groups and their romping progeny. + +Ann Eliza was in no mood for such interpretations of life; +but, knowing that Miss Mellins had been invited for the sole +purpose of keeping her company she continued to cling to the dress- +maker's side, letting Mr. Ramy lead the way with Evelina. Miss +Mellins, stimulated by the excitement of the occasion, grew more +and more discursive, and her ceaseless talk, and the kaleidoscopic +whirl of the crowd, were unspeakably bewildering to Ann Eliza. Her +feet, accustomed to the slippered ease of the shop, ached with the +unfamiliar effort of walking, and her ears with the din of the +dress-maker's anecdotes; but every nerve in her was aware of +Evelina's enjoyment, and she was determined that no weariness of +hers should curtail it. Yet even her heroism shrank from the +significant glances which Miss Mellins presently began to cast at +the couple in front of them: Ann Eliza could bear to connive at +Evelina's bliss, but not to acknowledge it to others. + +At length Evelina's feet also failed her, and she turned to +suggest that they ought to be going home. Her flushed face had +grown pale with fatigue, but her eyes were radiant. + +The return lived in Ann Eliza's memory with the persistence of +an evil dream. The horse-cars were packed with the returning +throng, and they had to let a dozen go by before they could push +their way into one that was already crowded. Ann Eliza had never +before felt so tired. Even Miss Mellins's flow of narrative ran +dry, and they sat silent, wedged between a negro woman and a pock- +marked man with a bandaged head, while the car rumbled slowly down +a squalid avenue to their corner. Evelina and Mr. Ramy sat +together in the forward part of the car, and Ann Eliza could catch +only an occasional glimpse of the forget-me-not bonnet and the +clock-maker's shiny coat-collar; but when the little party got out +at their corner the crowd swept them together again, and they +walked back in the effortless silence of tired children to the +Bunner sisters' basement. As Miss Mellins and Mr. Ramy turned to +go their various ways Evelina mustered a last display of smiles; +but Ann Eliza crossed the threshold in silence, feeling the +stillness of the little shop reach out to her like consoling arms. + +That night she could not sleep; but as she lay cold and rigid +at her sister's side, she suddenly felt the pressure of Evelina's +arms, and heard her whisper: "Oh, Ann Eliza, warn't it heavenly?" + + +VI + + +For four days after their Sunday in the Park the Bunner +sisters had no news of Mr. Ramy. At first neither one betrayed her +disappointment and anxiety to the other; but on the fifth morning +Evelina, always the first to yield to her feelings, said, as she +turned from her untasted tea: "I thought you'd oughter take that +money out by now, Ann Eliza." + +Ann Eliza understood and reddened. The winter had been a +fairly prosperous one for the sisters, and their slowly accumulated +savings had now reached the handsome sum of two hundred +dollars; but the satisfaction they might have felt in this unwonted +opulence had been clouded by a suggestion of Miss Mellins's that +there were dark rumours concerning the savings bank in which their +funds were deposited. They knew Miss Mellins was given to vain +alarms; but her words, by the sheer force of repetition, had so +shaken Ann Eliza's peace that after long hours of midnight counsel +the sisters had decided to advise with Mr. Ramy; and on Ann Eliza, +as the head of the house, this duty had devolved. Mr. Ramy, when +consulted, had not only confirmed the dress-maker's report, but had +offered to find some safe investment which should give the sisters +a higher rate of interest than the suspected savings bank; and Ann +Eliza knew that Evelina alluded to the suggested transfer. + +"Why, yes, to be sure," she agreed. "Mr. Ramy said if he was +us he wouldn't want to leave his money there any longer'n he could +help." + +"It was over a week ago he said it," Evelina reminded her. + +"I know; but he told me to wait till he'd found out for sure +about that other investment; and we ain't seen him since then." + +Ann Eliza's words released their secret fear. "I wonder +what's happened to him," Evelina said. "You don't suppose he could +be sick?" + +"I was wondering too," Ann Eliza rejoined; and the sisters +looked down at their plates. + +"I should think you'd oughter do something about that money +pretty soon," Evelina began again. + +"Well, I know I'd oughter. What would you do if you was me?" + +"If I was YOU," said her sister, with perceptible +emphasis and a rising blush, "I'd go right round and see if Mr. +Ramy was sick. YOU could." + +The words pierced Ann Eliza like a blade. "Yes, that's so," +she said. + +"It would only seem friendly, if he really IS sick. If +I was you I'd go to-day," Evelina continued; and after dinner Ann +Eliza went. + +On the way she had to leave a parcel at the dyer's, and having +performed that errand she turned toward Mr. Ramy's shop. Never +before had she felt so old, so hopeless and humble. She knew she +was bound on a love-errand of Evelina's, and the knowledge seemed +to dry the last drop of young blood in her veins. It took from +her, too, all her faded virginal shyness; and with a brisk +composure she turned the handle of the clock-maker's door. + +But as she entered her heart began to tremble, for she saw Mr. +Ramy, his face hidden in his hands, sitting behind the counter in +an attitude of strange dejection. At the click of the latch he +looked up slowly, fixing a lustreless stare on Ann Eliza. For a +moment she thought he did not know her. + +"Oh, you're sick!" she exclaimed; and the sound of her voice +seemed to recall his wandering senses. + +"Why, if it ain't Miss Bunner!" he said, in a low thick tone; +but he made no attempt to move, and she noticed that his face was +the colour of yellow ashes. + +"You ARE sick," she persisted, emboldened by his +evident need of help. "Mr. Ramy, it was real unfriendly of you not +to let us know." + +He continued to look at her with dull eyes. "I ain't been +sick," he said. "Leastways not very: only one of my old turns." +He spoke in a slow laboured way, as if he had difficulty in getting +his words together. + +"Rheumatism?" she ventured, seeing how unwillingly he seemed +to move. + +"Well--somethin' like, maybe. I couldn't hardly put a name to +it." + +"If it WAS anything like rheumatism, my grandmother +used to make a tea--" Ann Eliza began: she had forgotten, in the +warmth of the moment, that she had only come as Evelina's +messenger. + +At the mention of tea an expression of uncontrollable +repugnance passed over Mr. Ramy's face. "Oh, I guess I'm getting +on all right. I've just got a headache to-day." + +Ann Eliza's courage dropped at the note of refusal in his +voice. + +"I'm sorry," she said gently. "My sister and me'd have been +glad to do anything we could for you." + +"Thank you kindly," said Mr. Ramy wearily; then, as she turned +to the door, he added with an effort: "Maybe I'll step round to- +morrow." + +"We'll be real glad," Ann Eliza repeated. Her eyes were fixed +on a dusty bronze clock in the window. She was unaware of looking +at it at the time, but long afterward she remembered that it +represented a Newfoundland dog with his paw on an open book. + +When she reached home there was a purchaser in the shop, +turning over hooks and eyes under Evelina's absent-minded +supervision. Ann Eliza passed hastily into the back room, but in +an instant she heard her sister at her side. + +"Quick! I told her I was goin' to look for some smaller +hooks--how is he?" Evelina gasped. + +"He ain't been very well," said Ann Eliza slowly, her eyes on +Evelina's eager face; "but he says he'll be sure to be round to- +morrow night." + +"He will? Are you telling me the truth?" + +"Why, Evelina Bunner!" + +"Oh, I don't care!" cried the younger recklessly, rushing back +into the shop. + +Ann Eliza stood burning with the shame of Evelina's self- +exposure. She was shocked that, even to her, Evelina should lay +bare the nakedness of her emotion; and she tried to turn her +thoughts from it as though its recollection made her a sharer in +her sister's debasement. + +The next evening, Mr. Ramy reappeared, still somewhat sallow +and red-lidded, but otherwise his usual self. Ann Eliza consulted +him about the investment he had recommended, and after it had been +settled that he should attend to the matter for her he took up the +illustrated volume of Longfellow--for, as the sisters had learned, +his culture soared beyond the newspapers--and read aloud, with a +fine confusion of consonants, the poem on "Maidenhood." Evelina +lowered her lids while he read. It was a very beautiful evening, +and Ann Eliza thought afterward how different life might have been +with a companion who read poetry like Mr. Ramy. + + +VII + + +During the ensuing weeks Mr. Ramy, though his visits were as +frequent as ever, did not seem to regain his usual spirits. He +complained frequently of headache, but rejected Ann Eliza's +tentatively proffered remedies, and seemed to shrink from any +prolonged investigation of his symptoms. July had come, with a +sudden ardour of heat, and one evening, as the three sat together +by the open window in the back room, Evelina said: "I dunno what I +wouldn't give, a night like this, for a breath of real country +air." + +"So would I," said Mr. Ramy, knocking the ashes from his pipe. +"I'd like to be setting in an arbour dis very minute." + +"Oh, wouldn't it be lovely?" + +"I always think it's real cool here--we'd be heaps hotter up +where Miss Mellins is," said Ann Eliza. + +"Oh, I daresay--but we'd be heaps cooler somewhere else," her +sister snapped: she was not infrequently exasperated by Ann Eliza's +furtive attempts to mollify Providence. + +A few days later Mr. Ramy appeared with a suggestion which +enchanted Evelina. He had gone the day before to see his friend, +Mrs. Hochmuller, who lived in the outskirts of Hoboken, and Mrs. +Hochmuller had proposed that on the following Sunday he should +bring the Bunner sisters to spend the day with her. + +"She's got a real garden, you know," Mr. Ramy explained, "wid +trees and a real summer-house to set in; and hens and chickens too. +And it's an elegant sail over on de ferry-boat." + +The proposal drew no response from Ann Eliza. She was still +oppressed by the recollection of her interminable Sunday in the +Park; but, obedient to Evelina's imperious glance, she finally +faltered out an acceptance. + +The Sunday was a very hot one, and once on the ferry-boat Ann +Eliza revived at the touch of the salt breeze, and the spectacle of +the crowded waters; but when they reached the other shore, and +stepped out on the dirty wharf, she began to ache with anticipated +weariness. They got into a street-car, and were jolted from one +mean street to another, till at length Mr. Ramy pulled the +conductor's sleeve and they got out again; then they stood in the +blazing sun, near the door of a crowded beer-saloon, waiting for +another car to come; and that carried them out to a thinly settled +district, past vacant lots and narrow brick houses standing +in unsupported solitude, till they finally reached an almost rural +region of scattered cottages and low wooden buildings that looked +like village "stores." Here the car finally stopped of its own +accord, and they walked along a rutty road, past a stone-cutter's +yard with a high fence tapestried with theatrical advertisements, +to a little red house with green blinds and a garden paling. +Really, Mr. Ramy had not deceived them. Clumps of dielytra and +day-lilies bloomed behind the paling, and a crooked elm hung +romantically over the gable of the house. + +At the gate Mrs. Hochmuller, a broad woman in brick-brown +merino, met them with nods and smiles, while her daughter Linda, a +flaxen-haired girl with mottled red cheeks and a sidelong stare, +hovered inquisitively behind her. Mrs. Hochmuller, leading the way +into the house, conducted the Bunner sisters the way to her +bedroom. Here they were invited to spread out on a mountainous +white featherbed the cashmere mantles under which the solemnity of +the occasion had compelled them to swelter, and when they had given +their black silks the necessary twitch of readjustment, and Evelina +had fluffed out her hair before a looking-glass framed in pink- +shell work, their hostess led them to a stuffy parlour smelling of +gingerbread. After another ceremonial pause, broken by polite +enquiries and shy ejaculations, they were shown into the kitchen, +where the table was already spread with strange-looking spice-cakes +and stewed fruits, and where they presently found themselves seated +between Mrs. Hochmuller and Mr. Ramy, while the staring Linda +bumped back and forth from the stove with steaming dishes. + +To Ann Eliza the dinner seemed endless, and the rich fare +strangely unappetizing. She was abashed by the easy intimacy of +her hostess's voice and eye. With Mr. Ramy Mrs. Hochmuller was +almost flippantly familiar, and it was only when Ann Eliza pictured +her generous form bent above his sick-bed that she could forgive +her for tersely addressing him as "Ramy." During one of the pauses +of the meal Mrs. Hochmuller laid her knife and fork against the +edges of her plate, and, fixing her eyes on the clock-maker's face, +said accusingly: "You hat one of dem turns again, Ramy." + +"I dunno as I had," he returned evasively. + +Evelina glanced from one to the other. "Mr. Ramy HAS +been sick," she said at length, as though to show that she also was +in a position to speak with authority. "He's complained very +frequently of headaches." + +"Ho!--I know him," said Mrs. Hochmuller with a laugh, her eyes +still on the clock-maker. "Ain't you ashamed of yourself, Ramy?" + +Mr. Ramy, who was looking at his plate, said suddenly one word +which the sisters could not understand; it sounded to Ann Eliza +like "Shwike." + +Mrs. Hochmuller laughed again. "My, my," she said, "wouldn't +you think he'd be ashamed to go and be sick and never dell me, me +that nursed him troo dat awful fever?" + +"Yes, I SHOULD," said Evelina, with a spirited glance +at Ramy; but he was looking at the sausages that Linda had just put +on the table. + +When dinner was over Mrs. Hochmuller invited her guests to +step out of the kitchen-door, and they found themselves in a green +enclosure, half garden, half orchard. Grey hens followed by golden +broods clucked under the twisted apple-boughs, a cat dozed on the +edge of an old well, and from tree to tree ran the network of +clothes-line that denoted Mrs. Hochmuller's calling. Beyond the +apple trees stood a yellow summer-house festooned with scarlet +runners; and below it, on the farther side of a rough fence, the +land dipped down, holding a bit of woodland in its hollow. It was +all strangely sweet and still on that hot Sunday afternoon, and as +she moved across the grass under the apple-boughs Ann Eliza thought +of quiet afternoons in church, and of the hymns her mother had sung +to her when she was a baby. + +Evelina was more restless. She wandered from the well to the +summer-house and back, she tossed crumbs to the chickens and +disturbed the cat with arch caresses; and at last she expressed a +desire to go down into the wood. + +"I guess you got to go round by the road, then," said Mrs. +Hochmuller. "My Linda she goes troo a hole in de fence, +but I guess you'd tear your dress if you was to dry." + +"I'll help you," said Mr. Ramy; and guided by Linda the pair +walked along the fence till they reached a narrow gap in its +boards. Through this they disappeared, watched curiously in their +descent by the grinning Linda, while Mrs. Hochmuller and Ann Eliza +were left alone in the summer-house. + +Mrs. Hochmuller looked at her guest with a confidential smile. +"I guess dey'll be gone quite a while," she remarked, jerking her +double chin toward the gap in the fence. "Folks like dat don't +never remember about de dime." And she drew out her knitting. + +Ann Eliza could think of nothing to say. + +"Your sister she thinks a great lot of him, don't she?" her +hostess continued. + +Ann Eliza's cheeks grew hot. "Ain't you a teeny bit lonesome +away out here sometimes?" she asked. "I should think you'd be +scared nights, all alone with your daughter." + +"Oh, no, I ain't," said Mrs. Hochmuller. "You see I take in +washing--dat's my business--and it's a lot cheaper doing it out +here dan in de city: where'd I get a drying-ground like dis in +Hobucken? And den it's safer for Linda too; it geeps her outer de +streets." + +"Oh," said Ann Eliza, shrinking. She began to feel a distinct +aversion for her hostess, and her eyes turned with involuntary +annoyance to the square-backed form of Linda, still inquisitively +suspended on the fence. It seemed to Ann Eliza that Evelina and +her companion would never return from the wood; but they came at +length, Mr. Ramy's brow pearled with perspiration, Evelina pink and +conscious, a drooping bunch of ferns in her hand; and it was clear +that, to her at least, the moments had been winged. + +"D'you suppose they'll revive?" she asked, holding up the +ferns; but Ann Eliza, rising at her approach, said stiffly: "We'd +better be getting home, Evelina." + +"Mercy me! Ain't you going to take your coffee first?" Mrs. +Hochmuller protested; and Ann Eliza found to her dismay that +another long gastronomic ceremony must intervene before politeness +permitted them to leave. At length, however, they found themselves +again on the ferry-boat. Water and sky were grey, with a dividing +gleam of sunset that sent sleek opal waves in the boat's wake. The +wind had a cool tarry breath, as though it had travelled over miles +of shipping, and the hiss of the water about the paddles was as +delicious as though it had been splashed into their tired faces. + +Ann Eliza sat apart, looking away from the others. She had +made up her mind that Mr. Ramy had proposed to Evelina in the wood, +and she was silently preparing herself to receive her sister's +confidence that evening. + +But Evelina was apparently in no mood for confidences. When +they reached home she put her faded ferns in water, and after +supper, when she had laid aside her silk dress and the forget-me- +not bonnet, she remained silently seated in her rocking-chair near +the open window. It was long since Ann Eliza had seen her in so +uncommunicative a mood. + + +The following Saturday Ann Eliza was sitting alone in the shop +when the door opened and Mr. Ramy entered. He had never before +called at that hour, and she wondered a little anxiously what had +brought him. + +"Has anything happened?" she asked, pushing aside the +basketful of buttons she had been sorting. + +"Not's I know of," said Mr. Ramy tranquilly. "But I always +close up the store at two o'clock Saturdays at this season, so I +thought I might as well call round and see you." + +"I'm real glad, I'm sure," said Ann Eliza; "but Evelina's +out." + +"I know dat," Mr. Ramy answered. "I met her round de corner. +She told me she got to go to dat new dyer's up in Forty-eighth +Street. She won't be back for a couple of hours, har'ly, will +she?" + +Ann Eliza looked at him with rising bewilderment. "No, I +guess not," she answered; her instinctive hospitality prompting her +to add: "Won't you set down jest the same?" + +Mr. Ramy sat down on the stool beside the counter, and Ann +Eliza returned to her place behind it. + +"I can't leave the store," she explained. + +"Well, I guess we're very well here." Ann Eliza had become +suddenly aware that Mr. Ramy was looking at her with +unusual intentness. Involuntarily her hand strayed to the thin +streaks of hair on her temples, and thence descended to straighten +the brooch beneath her collar. + +"You're looking very well to-day, Miss Bunner," said Mr. Ramy, +following her gesture with a smile. + +"Oh," said Ann Eliza nervously. "I'm always well in health," +she added. + +"I guess you're healthier than your sister, even if you are +less sizeable." + +"Oh, I don't know. Evelina's a mite nervous sometimes, but +she ain't a bit sickly." + +"She eats heartier than you do; but that don't mean nothing," +said Mr. Ramy. + +Ann Eliza was silent. She could not follow the trend of his +thought, and she did not care to commit herself farther about +Evelina before she had ascertained if Mr. Ramy considered +nervousness interesting or the reverse. + +But Mr. Ramy spared her all farther indecision. + +"Well, Miss Bunner," he said, drawing his stool closer to the +counter, "I guess I might as well tell you fust as last what I come +here for to-day. I want to get married." + +Ann Eliza, in many a prayerful midnight hour, had sought to +strengthen herself for the hearing of this avowal, but now that it +had come she felt pitifully frightened and unprepared. Mr. Ramy +was leaning with both elbows on the counter, and she noticed that +his nails were clean and that he had brushed his hat; yet even +these signs had not prepared her! + +At last she heard herself say, with a dry throat in which her +heart was hammering: "Mercy me, Mr. Ramy!" + +"I want to get married," he repeated. "I'm too lonesome. It +ain't good for a man to live all alone, and eat noding but cold +meat every day." + +"No," said Ann Eliza softly. + +"And the dust fairly beats me." + +"Oh, the dust--I know!" + +Mr. Ramy stretched one of his blunt-fingered hands toward her. +"I wisht you'd take me." + +Still Ann Eliza did not understand. She rose hesitatingly +from her seat, pushing aside the basket of buttons which lay +between them; then she perceived that Mr. Ramy was trying to take +her hand, and as their fingers met a flood of joy swept over her. +Never afterward, though every other word of their interview was +stamped on her memory beyond all possible forgetting, could she +recall what he said while their hands touched; she only knew that +she seemed to be floating on a summer sea, and that all its waves +were in her ears. + +"Me--me?" she gasped. + +"I guess so," said her suitor placidly. "You suit me right +down to the ground, Miss Bunner. Dat's the truth." + +A woman passing along the street paused to look at the shop- +window, and Ann Eliza half hoped she would come in; but after a +desultory inspection she went on. + +"Maybe you don't fancy me?" Mr. Ramy suggested, +discountenanced by Ann Eliza's silence. + +A word of assent was on her tongue, but her lips refused it. +She must find some other way of telling him. + +"I don't say that." + +"Well, I always kinder thought we was suited to one another," +Mr. Ramy continued, eased of his momentary doubt. "I always liked +de quiet style--no fuss and airs, and not afraid of work." He +spoke as though dispassionately cataloguing her charms. + +Ann Eliza felt that she must make an end. "But, Mr. Ramy, you +don't understand. I've never thought of marrying." + +Mr. Ramy looked at her in surprise. "Why not?" + +"Well, I don't know, har'ly." She moistened her twitching +lips. "The fact is, I ain't as active as I look. Maybe I couldn't +stand the care. I ain't as spry as Evelina--nor as young," she +added, with a last great effort. + +"But you do most of de work here, anyways," said her suitor +doubtfully. + +"Oh, well, that's because Evelina's busy outside; and where +there's only two women the work don't amount to much. Besides, I'm +the oldest; I have to look after things," she hastened on, half +pained that her simple ruse should so readily deceive him. + +"Well, I guess you're active enough for me," he persisted. +His calm determination began to frighten her; she trembled lest her +own should be less staunch. + +"No, no," she repeated, feeling the tears on her lashes. "I +couldn't, Mr. Ramy, I couldn't marry. I'm so surprised. +I always thought it was Evelina--always. And so did everybody +else. She's so bright and pretty--it seemed so natural." + +"Well, you was all mistaken," said Mr. Ramy obstinately. + +"I'm so sorry." + +He rose, pushing back his chair. + +"You'd better think it over," he said, in the large tone of a +man who feels he may safely wait. + +"Oh, no, no. It ain't any sorter use, Mr. Ramy. I don't +never mean to marry. I get tired so easily--I'd be afraid of the +work. And I have such awful headaches." She paused, racking her +brain for more convincing infirmities. + +"Headaches, do you?" said Mr. Ramy, turning back. + +"My, yes, awful ones, that I have to give right up to. +Evelina has to do everything when I have one of them headaches. +She has to bring me my tea in the mornings." + +"Well, I'm sorry to hear it," said Mr. Ramy. + +"Thank you kindly all the same," Ann Eliza murmured. "And +please don't--don't--" She stopped suddenly, looking at him +through her tears. + +"Oh, that's all right," he answered. "Don't you fret, Miss +Gunner. Folks have got to suit themselves." She thought his tone +had grown more resigned since she had spoken of her headaches. + +For some moments he stood looking at her with a hesitating +eye, as though uncertain how to end their conversation; and at +length she found courage to say (in the words of a novel she had +once read): "I don't want this should make any difference between +us." + +"Oh, my, no," said Mr. Ramy, absently picking up his hat. + +"You'll come in just the same?" she continued, nerving herself +to the effort. "We'd miss you awfully if you didn't. Evelina, +she--" She paused, torn between her desire to turn his thoughts to +Evelina, and the dread of prematurely disclosing her sister's +secret. + +"Don't Miss Evelina have no headaches?" Mr. Ramy suddenly +asked. + +"My, no, never--well, not to speak of, anyway. She ain't had +one for ages, and when Evelina IS sick she won't never give +in to it," Ann Eliza declared, making some hurried adjustments with +her conscience. + +"I wouldn't have thought that," said Mr. Ramy. + +"I guess you don't know us as well as you thought you did." + +"Well, no, that's so; maybe I don't. I'll wish you good day, +Miss Bunner"; and Mr. Ramy moved toward the door. + +"Good day, Mr. Ramy," Ann Eliza answered. + +She felt unutterably thankful to be alone. She knew the +crucial moment of her life had passed, and she was glad that she +had not fallen below her own ideals. It had been a wonderful +experience; and in spite of the tears on her cheeks she was not +sorry to have known it. Two facts, however, took the edge from its +perfection: that it had happened in the shop, and that she had not +had on her black silk. + +She passed the next hour in a state of dreamy ecstasy. +Something had entered into her life of which no subsequent +empoverishment could rob it: she glowed with the same rich sense of +possessorship that once, as a little girl, she had felt when her +mother had given her a gold locket and she had sat up in bed in the +dark to draw it from its hiding-place beneath her night-gown. + +At length a dread of Evelina's return began to mingle with +these musings. How could she meet her younger sister's eye without +betraying what had happened? She felt as though a visible glory +lay on her, and she was glad that dusk had fallen when Evelina +entered. But her fears were superfluous. Evelina, always self- +absorbed, had of late lost all interest in the simple happenings of +the shop, and Ann Eliza, with mingled mortification and relief, +perceived that she was in no danger of being cross-questioned as to +the events of the afternoon. She was glad of this; yet there was +a touch of humiliation in finding that the portentous secret in her +bosom did not visibly shine forth. It struck her as dull, and even +slightly absurd, of Evelina not to know at last that they were +equals. + + + +PART II + + +VIII + +Mr. Ramy, after a decent interval, returned to the shop; and Ann +Eliza, when they met, was unable to detect whether the emotions +which seethed under her black alpaca found an echo in his bosom. +Outwardly he made no sign. He lit his pipe as placidly as ever and +seemed to relapse without effort into the unruffled intimacy of +old. Yet to Ann Eliza's initiated eye a change became gradually +perceptible. She saw that he was beginning to look at her sister +as he had looked at her on that momentous afternoon: she even +discerned a secret significance in the turn of his talk with +Evelina. Once he asked her abruptly if she should like to travel, +and Ann Eliza saw that the flush on Evelina's cheek was reflected +from the same fire which had scorched her own. + +So they drifted on through the sultry weeks of July. At that +season the business of the little shop almost ceased, and one +Saturday morning Mr. Ramy proposed that the sisters should lock up +early and go with him for a sail down the bay in one of the Coney +Island boats. + +Ann Eliza saw the light in Evelina's eye and her resolve was +instantly taken. + +"I guess I won't go, thank you kindly; but I'm sure my sister +will be happy to." + +She was pained by the perfunctory phrase with which Evelina +urged her to accompany them; and still more by Mr. Ramy's silence. + +"No, I guess I won't go," she repeated, rather in answer to +herself than to them. "It's dreadfully hot and I've got a kinder +headache." + +"Oh, well, I wouldn't then," said her sister hurriedly. +"You'd better jest set here quietly and rest." + + +*** A summary of Part I of "Bunner Sisters" appears on page 4 +of the advertising pages. + + +"Yes, I'll rest," Ann Eliza assented. + +At two o'clock Mr. Ramy returned, and a moment later he and +Evelina left the shop. Evelina had made herself another new bonnet +for the occasion, a bonnet, Ann Eliza thought, almost too youthful +in shape and colour. It was the first time it had ever occurred to +her to criticize Evelina's taste, and she was frightened at the +insidious change in her attitude toward her sister. + +When Ann Eliza, in later days, looked back on that afternoon +she felt that there had been something prophetic in the quality of +its solitude; it seemed to distill the triple essence of loneliness +in which all her after-life was to be lived. No purchasers came; +not a hand fell on the door-latch; and the tick of the clock in the +back room ironically emphasized the passing of the empty hours. + +Evelina returned late and alone. Ann Eliza felt the coming +crisis in the sound of her footstep, which wavered along as if not +knowing on what it trod. The elder sister's affection had so +passionately projected itself into her junior's fate that at such +moments she seemed to be living two lives, her own and Evelina's; +and her private longings shrank into silence at the sight of the +other's hungry bliss. But it was evident that Evelina, never +acutely alive to the emotional atmosphere about her, had no idea +that her secret was suspected; and with an assumption of unconcern +that would have made Ann Eliza smile if the pang had been less +piercing, the younger sister prepared to confess herself. + +"What are you so busy about?" she said impatiently, as Ann +Eliza, beneath the gas-jet, fumbled for the matches. "Ain't you +even got time to ask me if I'd had a pleasant day?" + +Ann Eliza turned with a quiet smile. "I guess I don't have +to. Seems to me it's pretty plain you have." + +"Well, I don't know. I don't know HOW I feel-- +it's all so queer. I almost think I'd like to scream." + +"I guess you're tired." + +"No, I ain't. It's not that. But it all happened so +suddenly, and the boat was so crowded I thought everybody'd hear +what he was saying.--Ann Eliza," she broke out, "why on earth don't +you ask me what I'm talking about?" + +Ann Eliza, with a last effort of heroism, feigned a fond +incomprehension. + +"What ARE you?" + +"Why, I'm engaged to be married--so there! Now it's out! And +it happened right on the boat; only to think of it! Of course I +wasn't exactly surprised--I've known right along he was going to +sooner or later--on'y somehow I didn't think of its happening to- +day. I thought he'd never get up his courage. He said he was so +'fraid I'd say no--that's what kep' him so long from asking me. +Well, I ain't said yes YET--leastways I told him I'd have to +think it over; but I guess he knows. Oh, Ann Eliza, I'm so happy!" +She hid the blinding brightness of her face. + +Ann Eliza, just then, would only let herself feel that she was +glad. She drew down Evelina's hands and kissed her, and they held +each other. When Evelina regained her voice she had a tale to tell +which carried their vigil far into the night. Not a syllable, not +a glance or gesture of Ramy's, was the elder sister spared; and +with unconscious irony she found herself comparing the details of +his proposal to her with those which Evelina was imparting with +merciless prolixity. + +The next few days were taken up with the embarrassed +adjustment of their new relation to Mr. Ramy and to each other. +Ann Eliza's ardour carried her to new heights of self-effacement, +and she invented late duties in the shop in order to leave Evelina +and her suitor longer alone in the back room. Later on, when she +tried to remember the details of those first days, few came back to +her: she knew only that she got up each morning with the sense of +having to push the leaden hours up the same long steep of pain. + +Mr. Ramy came daily now. Every evening he and his betrothed +went out for a stroll around the Square, and when Evelina came in +her cheeks were always pink. "He's kissed her under that tree at +the corner, away from the lamp-post," Ann Eliza said to herself, +with sudden insight into unconjectured things. On Sundays they +usually went for the whole afternoon to the Central Park, and Ann +Eliza, from her seat in the mortal hush of the back room, followed +step by step their long slow beatific walk. + +There had been, as yet, no allusion to their marriage, except +that Evelina had once told her sister that Mr. Ramy wished them to +invite Mrs. Hochmuller and Linda to the wedding. The mention of +the laundress raised a half-forgotten fear in Ann Eliza, and she +said in a tone of tentative appeal: "I guess if I was you I +wouldn't want to be very great friends with Mrs. Hochmuller." + +Evelina glanced at her compassionately. "I guess if you was +me you'd want to do everything you could to please the man you +loved. It's lucky," she added with glacial irony, "that I'm not +too grand for Herman's friends." + +"Oh," Ann Eliza protested, "that ain't what I mean--and you +know it ain't. Only somehow the day we saw her I didn't think she +seemed like the kinder person you'd want for a friend." + +"I guess a married woman's the best judge of such matters," +Evelina replied, as though she already walked in the light of her +future state. + +Ann Eliza, after that, kept her own counsel. She saw that +Evelina wanted her sympathy as little as her admonitions, and that +already she counted for nothing in her sister's scheme of life. To +Ann Eliza's idolatrous acceptance of the cruelties of fate this +exclusion seemed both natural and just; but it caused her the most +lively pain. She could not divest her love for Evelina of its +passionate motherliness; no breath of reason could lower it to the +cool temperature of sisterly affection. + +She was then passing, as she thought, through the novitiate of +her pain; preparing, in a hundred experimental ways, for the +solitude awaiting her when Evelina left. It was true that it would +be a tempered loneliness. They would not be far apart. Evelina +would "run in" daily from the clock-maker's; they would doubtless +take supper with her on Sundays. But already Ann Eliza guessed +with what growing perfunctoriness her sister would fulfill +these obligations; she even foresaw the day when, to get news of +Evelina, she should have to lock the shop at nightfall and go +herself to Mr. Ramy's door. But on that contingency she would not +dwell. "They can come to me when they want to--they'll always find +me here," she simply said to herself. + +One evening Evelina came in flushed and agitated from her +stroll around the Square. Ann Eliza saw at once that something had +happened; but the new habit of reticence checked her question. + +She had not long to wait. "Oh, Ann Eliza, on'y to think what +he says--" (the pronoun stood exclusively for Mr. Ramy). "I +declare I'm so upset I thought the people in the Square would +notice me. Don't I look queer? He wants to get married right +off--this very next week." + +"Next week?" + +"Yes. So's we can move out to St. Louis right away." + +"Him and you--move out to St. Louis?" + +"Well, I don't know as it would be natural for him to want to +go out there without me," Evelina simpered. "But it's all so +sudden I don't know what to think. He only got the letter this +morning. DO I look queer, Ann Eliza?" Her eye was roving +for the mirror. + +"No, you don't," said Ann Eliza almost harshly. + +"Well, it's a mercy," Evelina pursued with a tinge of +disappointment. "It's a regular miracle I didn't faint right out +there in the Square. Herman's so thoughtless--he just put the +letter into my hand without a word. It's from a big firm out +there--the Tiff'ny of St. Louis, he says it is--offering him a +place in their clock-department. Seems they heart of him through +a German friend of his that's settled out there. It's a splendid +opening, and if he gives satisfaction they'll raise him at the end +of the year." + +She paused, flushed with the importance of the situation, +which seemed to lift her once for all above the dull level of her +former life. + +"Then you'll have to go?" came at last from Ann Eliza. + +Evelina stared. "You wouldn't have me interfere with his +prospects, would you?" + +"No--no. I on'y meant--has it got to be so soon?" + +"Right away, I tell you--next week. Ain't it awful?" blushed +the bride. + +Well, this was what happened to mothers. They bore it, Ann +Eliza mused; so why not she? Ah, but they had their own chance +first; she had had no chance at all. And now this life which she +had made her own was going from her forever; had gone, already, in +the inner and deeper sense, and was soon to vanish in even its +outward nearness, its surface-communion of voice and eye. At that +moment even the thought of Evelina's happiness refused her its +consolatory ray; or its light, if she saw it, was too remote to +warm her. The thirst for a personal and inalienable tie, for pangs +and problems of her own, was parching Ann Eliza's soul: it seemed +to her that she could never again gather strength to look her +loneliness in the face. + +The trivial obligations of the moment came to her aid. Nursed +in idleness her grief would have mastered her; but the needs of the +shop and the back room, and the preparations for Evelina's +marriage, kept the tyrant under. + +Miss Mellins, true to her anticipations, had been called on to +aid in the making of the wedding dress, and she and Ann Eliza were +bending one evening over the breadths of pearl-grey cashmere which +in spite of the dress-maker's prophetic vision of gored satin, had +been judged most suitable, when Evelina came into the room alone. + +Ann Eliza had already had occasion to notice that it was a bad +sign when Mr. Ramy left his affianced at the door. It generally +meant that Evelina had something disturbing to communicate, and Ann +Eliza's first glance told her that this time the news was grave. + +Miss Mellins, who sat with her back to the door and her head +bent over her sewing, started as Evelina came around to the +opposite side of the table. + +"Mercy, Miss Evelina! I declare I thought you was a ghost, +the way you crep' in. I had a customer once up in Forty-ninth +Street--a lovely young woman with a thirty-six bust and a waist you +could ha' put into her wedding ring--and her husband, he crep' up +behind her that way jest for a joke, and frightened her +into a fit, and when she come to she was a raving maniac, and had +to be taken to Bloomingdale with two doctors and a nurse to hold +her in the carriage, and a lovely baby on'y six weeks old--and +there she is to this day, poor creature." + +"I didn't mean to startle you," said Evelina. + +She sat down on the nearest chair, and as the lamp-light fell +on her face Ann Eliza saw that she had been crying. + +"You do look dead-beat," Miss Mellins resumed, after a pause +of soul-probing scrutiny. "I guess Mr. Ramy lugs you round that +Square too often. You'll walk your legs off if you ain't careful. +Men don't never consider--they're all alike. Why, I had a cousin +once that was engaged to a book-agent--" + +"Maybe we'd better put away the work for to-night, Miss +Mellins," Ann Eliza interposed. "I guess what Evelina wants is a +good night's rest." + +"That's so," assented the dress-maker. "Have you got the back +breadths run together, Miss Bunner? Here's the sleeves. I'll pin +'em together." She drew a cluster of pins from her mouth, in which +she seemed to secrete them as squirrels stow away nuts. "There," +she said, rolling up her work, "you go right away to bed, Miss +Evelina, and we'll set up a little later to-morrow night. I guess +you're a mite nervous, ain't you? I know when my turn comes I'll +be scared to death." + +With this arch forecast she withdrew, and Ann Eliza, returning +to the back room, found Evelina still listlessly seated by the +table. True to her new policy of silence, the elder sister set +about folding up the bridal dress; but suddenly Evelina said in a +harsh unnatural voice: "There ain't any use in going on with that." + +The folds slipped from Ann Eliza's hands. + +"Evelina Bunner--what you mean?" + +"Jest what I say. It's put off." + +"Put off--what's put off?" + +"Our getting married. He can't take me to St. Louis. He +ain't got money enough." She brought the words out in the +monotonous tone of a child reciting a lesson. + +Ann Eliza picked up another breadth of cashmere and began to +smooth it out. "I don't understand," she said at length. + +"Well, it's plain enough. The journey's fearfully expensive, +and we've got to have something left to start with when we get out +there. We've counted up, and he ain't got the money to do it-- +that's all." + +"But I thought he was going right into a splendid place." + +"So he is; but the salary's pretty low the first year, and +board's very high in St. Louis. He's jest got another letter from +his German friend, and he's been figuring it out, and he's afraid +to chance it. He'll have to go alone." + +"But there's your money--have you forgotten that? The hundred +dollars in the bank." + +Evelina made an impatient movement. "Of course I ain't +forgotten it. On'y it ain't enough. It would all have to go into +buying furniture, and if he was took sick and lost his place again +we wouldn't have a cent left. He says he's got to lay by another +hundred dollars before he'll be willing to take me out there." + +For a while Ann Eliza pondered this surprising statement; then +she ventured: "Seems to me he might have thought of it before." + +In an instant Evelina was aflame. "I guess he knows what's +right as well as you or me. I'd sooner die than be a burden to +him." + +Ann Eliza made no answer. The clutch of an unformulated doubt +had checked the words on her lips. She had meant, on the day of +her sister's marriage, to give Evelina the other half of their +common savings; but something warned her not to say so now. + +The sisters undressed without farther words. After they had +gone to bed, and the light had been put out, the sound of Evelina's +weeping came to Ann Eliza in the darkness, but she lay motionless +on her own side of the bed, out of contact with her sister's shaken +body. Never had she felt so coldly remote from Evelina. + +The hours of the night moved slowly, ticked off with wearisome +insistence by the clock which had played so prominent a part in +their lives. Evelina's sobs still stirred the bed at gradually +lengthening intervals, till at length Ann Eliza thought she slept. +But with the dawn the eyes of the sisters met, and Ann Eliza's +courage failed her as she looked in Evelina's face. + +She sat up in bed and put out a pleading hand. + +"Don't cry so, dearie. Don't." + +"Oh, I can't bear it, I can't bear it," Evelina moaned. + +Ann Eliza stroked her quivering shoulder. "Don't, don't," she +repeated. "If you take the other hundred, won't that be enough? +I always meant to give it to you. On'y I didn't want to tell you +till your wedding day." + + +IX + + +Evelina's marriage took place on the appointed day. It was +celebrated in the evening, in the chantry of the church which the +sisters attended, and after it was over the few guests who had been +present repaired to the Bunner Sisters' basement, where a wedding +supper awaited them. Ann Eliza, aided by Miss Mellins and Mrs. +Hawkins, and consciously supported by the sentimental interest of +the whole street, had expended her utmost energy on the decoration +of the shop and the back room. On the table a vase of white +chrysanthemums stood between a dish of oranges and bananas and an +iced wedding-cake wreathed with orange-blossoms of the bride's own +making. Autumn leaves studded with paper roses festooned the what- +not and the chromo of the Rock of Ages, and a wreath of yellow +immortelles was twined about the clock which Evelina revered as the +mysterious agent of her happiness. + +At the table sat Miss Mellins, profusely spangled and bangled, +her head sewing-girl, a pale young thing who had helped with +Evelina's outfit, Mr. and Mrs. Hawkins, with Johnny, their eldest +boy, and Mrs. Hochmuller and her daughter. + +Mrs. Hochmuller's large blonde personality seemed to pervade +the room to the effacement of the less amply-proportioned guests. +It was rendered more impressive by a dress of crimson poplin that +stood out from her in organ-like folds; and Linda, whom Ann Eliza +had remembered as an uncouth child with a sly look about the eyes, +surprised her by a sudden blossoming into feminine grace such as +sometimes follows on a gawky girlhood. The Hochmullers, in fact, +struck the dominant note in the entertainment. Beside them +Evelina, unusually pale in her grey cashmere and white bonnet, +looked like a faintly washed sketch beside a brilliant chromo; and +Mr. Ramy, doomed to the traditional insignificance of the +bridegroom's part, made no attempt to rise above his situation. +Even Miss Mellins sparkled and jingled in vain in the shadow of +Mrs. Hochmuller's crimson bulk; and Ann Eliza, with a sense of +vague foreboding, saw that the wedding feast centred about the two +guests she had most wished to exclude from it. What was said or +done while they all sat about the table she never afterward +recalled: the long hours remained in her memory as a whirl of high +colours and loud voices, from which the pale presence of Evelina +now and then emerged like a drowned face on a sunset-dabbled sea. + +The next morning Mr. Ramy and his wife started for St. Louis, +and Ann Eliza was left alone. Outwardly the first strain of +parting was tempered by the arrival of Miss Mellins, Mrs. Hawkins +and Johnny, who dropped in to help in the ungarlanding and tidying +up of the back room. Ann Eliza was duly grateful for their +kindness, but the "talking over" on which they had evidently +counted was Dead Sea fruit on her lips; and just beyond the +familiar warmth of their presences she saw the form of Solitude at +her door. + +Ann Eliza was but a small person to harbour so great a guest, +and a trembling sense of insufficiency possessed her. She had no +high musings to offer to the new companion of her hearth. Every +one of her thoughts had hitherto turned to Evelina and shaped +itself in homely easy words; of the mighty speech of silence she +knew not the earliest syllable. + +Everything in the back room and the shop, on the second day +after Evelina's going, seemed to have grown coldly unfamiliar. The +whole aspect of the place had changed with the changed conditions +of Ann Eliza's life. The first customer who opened the shop-door +startled her like a ghost; and all night she lay tossing on her +side of the bed, sinking now and then into an uncertain doze from +which she would suddenly wake to reach out her hand for Evelina. +In the new silence surrounding her the walls and furniture found +voice, frightening her at dusk and midnight with strange sighs +and stealthy whispers. Ghostly hands shook the window shutters or +rattled at the outer latch, and once she grew cold at the sound of +a step like Evelina's stealing through the dark shop to die out on +the threshold. In time, of course, she found an explanation for +these noises, telling herself that the bedstead was warping, that +Miss Mellins trod heavily overhead, or that the thunder of passing +beer-waggons shook the door-latch; but the hours leading up to +these conclusions were full of the floating terrors that harden +into fixed foreboding. Worst of all were the solitary meals, when +she absently continued to set aside the largest slice of pie for +Evelina, and to let the tea grow cold while she waited for her +sister to help herself to the first cup. Miss Mellins, coming in +on one of these sad repasts, suggested the acquisition of a cat; +but Ann Eliza shook her head. She had never been used to animals, +and she felt the vague shrinking of the pious from creatures +divided from her by the abyss of soullessness. + +At length, after ten empty days, Evelina's first letter came. + +"My dear Sister," she wrote, in her pinched Spencerian hand, +"it seems strange to be in this great City so far from home alone +with him I have chosen for life, but marriage has its solemn duties +which those who are not can never hope to understand, and happier +perhaps for this reason, life for them has only simple tasks and +pleasures, but those who must take thought for others must be +prepared to do their duty in whatever station it has pleased the +Almighty to call them. Not that I have cause to complain, my dear +Husband is all love and devotion, but being absent all day at his +business how can I help but feel lonesome at times, as the poet +says it is hard for they that love to live apart, and I often +wonder, my dear Sister, how you are getting along alone in the +store, may you never experience the feelings of solitude I have +underwent since I came here. We are boarding now, but soon expect +to find rooms and change our place of Residence, then I shall have +all the care of a household to bear, but such is the fate of those +who join their Lot with others, they cannot hope to escape from the +burdens of Life, nor would I ask it, I would not live alway but +while I live would always pray for strength to do my duty. This +city is not near as large or handsome as New York, but had my lot +been cast in a Wilderness I hope I should not repine, such never +was my nature, and they who exchange their independence for the +sweet name of Wife must be prepared to find all is not gold that +glitters, nor I would not expect like you to drift down the stream +of Life unfettered and serene as a Summer cloud, such is not my +fate, but come what may will always find in me a resigned and +prayerful Spirit, and hoping this finds you as well as it leaves +me, I remain, my dear Sister, + + "Yours truly, + + "EVELINA B. RAMY." + + +Ann Eliza had always secretly admired the oratorical and +impersonal tone of Evelina's letters; but the few she had +previously read, having been addressed to school-mates or distant +relatives, had appeared in the light of literary compositions +rather than as records of personal experience. Now she could not +but wish that Evelina had laid aside her swelling periods for a +style more suited to the chronicling of homely incidents. She read +the letter again and again, seeking for a clue to what her sister +was really doing and thinking; but after each reading she emerged +impressed but unenlightened from the labyrinth of Evelina's +eloquence. + +During the early winter she received two or three more letters +of the same kind, each enclosing in its loose husk of rhetoric a +smaller kernel of fact. By dint of patient interlinear study, Ann +Eliza gathered from them that Evelina and her husband, after +various costly experiments in boarding, had been reduced to a +tenement-house flat; that living in St. Louis was more expensive +than they had supposed, and that Mr. Ramy was kept out late at +night (why, at a jeweller's, Ann Eliza wondered?) and found his +position less satisfactory than he had been led to expect. Toward +February the letters fell off; and finally they ceased to come. + +At first Ann Eliza wrote, shyly but persistently, entreating +for more frequent news; then, as one appeal after another was +swallowed up in the mystery of Evelina's protracted +silence, vague fears began to assail the elder sister. Perhaps +Evelina was ill, and with no one to nurse her but a man who could +not even make himself a cup of tea! Ann Eliza recalled the layer +of dust in Mr. Ramy's shop, and pictures of domestic disorder +mingled with the more poignant vision of her sister's illness. But +surely if Evelina were ill Mr. Ramy would have written. He wrote +a small neat hand, and epistolary communication was not an +insuperable embarrassment to him. The too probable alternative was +that both the unhappy pair had been prostrated by some disease +which left them powerless to summon her--for summon her they surely +would, Ann Eliza with unconscious cynicism reflected, if she or her +small economies could be of use to them! The more she strained her +eyes into the mystery, the darker it grew; and her lack of +initiative, her inability to imagine what steps might be taken to +trace the lost in distant places, left her benumbed and helpless. + +At last there floated up from some depth of troubled memory +the name of the firm of St. Louis jewellers by whom Mr. Ramy was +employed. After much hesitation, and considerable effort, she +addressed to them a timid request for news of her brother-in-law; +and sooner than she could have hoped the answer reached her. + +"DEAR MADAM, + +"In reply to yours of the 29th ult. we beg to state the party +you refer to was discharged from our employ a month ago. We are +sorry we are unable to furnish you wish his address. + + "Yours Respectfully, + + "LUDWIG AND HAMMERBUSCH." + + +Ann Eliza read and re-read the curt statement in a stupor of +distress. She had lost her last trace of Evelina. All that night +she lay awake, revolving the stupendous project of going to St. +Louis in search of her sister; but though she pieced together her +few financial possibilities with the ingenuity of a brain used to +fitting odd scraps into patch-work quilts, she woke to the cold +daylight fact that she could not raise the money for her fare. Her +wedding gift to Evelina had left her without any resources beyond +her daily earnings, and these had steadily dwindled as the winter +passed. She had long since renounced her weekly visit to the +butcher, and had reduced her other expenses to the narrowest +measure; but the most systematic frugality had not enabled her to +put by any money. In spite of her dogged efforts to maintain the +prosperity of the little shop, her sister's absence had already +told on its business. Now that Ann Eliza had to carry the bundles +to the dyer's herself, the customers who called in her absence, +finding the shop locked, too often went elsewhere. Moreover, after +several stern but unavailing efforts, she had had to give up the +trimming of bonnets, which in Evelina's hands had been the most +lucrative as well as the most interesting part of the business. +This change, to the passing female eye, robbed the shop window of +its chief attraction; and when painful experience had convinced the +regular customers of the Bunner Sisters of Ann Eliza's lack of +millinery skill they began to lose faith in her ability to curl a +feather or even "freshen up" a bunch of flowers. The time came +when Ann Eliza had almost made up her mind to speak to the lady +with puffed sleeves, who had always looked at her so kindly, and +had once ordered a hat of Evelina. Perhaps the lady with puffed +sleeves would be able to get her a little plain sewing to do; or +she might recommend the shop to friends. Ann Eliza, with this +possibility in view, rummaged out of a drawer the fly-blown +remainder of the business cards which the sisters had ordered in +the first flush of their commercial adventure; but when the lady +with puffed sleeves finally appeared she was in deep mourning, and +wore so sad a look that Ann Eliza dared not speak. She came in to +buy some spools of black thread and silk, and in the doorway she +turned back to say: "I am going away to-morrow for a long time. I +hope you will have a pleasant winter." And the door shut on her. + +One day not long after this it occurred to Ann Eliza to go to +Hoboken in quest of Mrs. Hochmuller. Much as she shrank from +pouring her distress into that particular ear, her anxiety had +carried her beyond such reluctance; but when she began to +think the matter over she was faced by a new difficulty. On the +occasion of her only visit to Mrs. Hochmuller, she and Evelina had +suffered themselves to be led there by Mr. Ramy; and Ann Eliza now +perceived that she did not even know the name of the laundress's +suburb, much less that of the street in which she lived. But she +must have news of Evelina, and no obstacle was great enough to +thwart her. + +Though she longed to turn to some one for advice she disliked +to expose her situation to Miss Mellins's searching eye, and at +first she could think of no other confidant. Then she remembered +Mrs. Hawkins, or rather her husband, who, though Ann Eliza had +always thought him a dull uneducated man, was probably gifted with +the mysterious masculine faculty of finding out people's addresses. +It went hard with Ann Eliza to trust her secret even to the mild +ear of Mrs. Hawkins, but at least she was spared the cross- +examination to which the dress-maker would have subjected her. The +accumulating pressure of domestic cares had so crushed in Mrs. +Hawkins any curiosity concerning the affairs of others that she +received her visitor's confidence with an almost masculine +indifference, while she rocked her teething baby on one arm and +with the other tried to check the acrobatic impulses of the next in +age. + +"My, my," she simply said as Ann Eliza ended. "Keep still +now, Arthur: Miss Bunner don't want you to jump up and down on her +foot to-day. And what are you gaping at, Johnny? Run right off +and play," she added, turning sternly to her eldest, who, because +he was the least naughty, usually bore the brunt of her wrath +against the others. + +"Well, perhaps Mr. Hawkins can help you," Mrs. Hawkins +continued meditatively, while the children, after scattering at her +bidding, returned to their previous pursuits like flies settling +down on the spot from which an exasperated hand has swept them. +"I'll send him right round the minute he comes in, and you can tell +him the whole story. I wouldn't wonder but what he can find that +Mrs. Hochmuller's address in the d'rectory. I know they've got one +where he works." + +"I'd be real thankful if he could," Ann Eliza murmured, rising +from her seat with the factitious sense of lightness that comes +from imparting a long-hidden dread. + + +X + + +Mr. Hawkins proved himself worthy of his wife's faith in his +capacity. He learned from Ann Eliza as much as she could tell him +about Mrs. Hochmuller and returned the next evening with a scrap of +paper bearing her address, beneath which Johnny (the family scribe) +had written in a large round hand the names of the streets that led +there from the ferry. + +Ann Eliza lay awake all that night, repeating over and over +again the directions Mr. Hawkins had given her. He was a kind man, +and she knew he would willingly have gone with her to Hoboken; +indeed she read in his timid eye the half-formed intention of +offering to accompany her--but on such an errand she preferred to +go alone. + +The next Sunday, accordingly, she set out early, and without +much trouble found her way to the ferry. Nearly a year had passed +since her previous visit to Mrs. Hochmuller, and a chilly April +breeze smote her face as she stepped on the boat. Most of the +passengers were huddled together in the cabin, and Ann Eliza shrank +into its obscurest corner, shivering under the thin black mantle +which had seemed so hot in July. She began to feel a little +bewildered as she stepped ashore, but a paternal policeman put her +into the right car, and as in a dream she found herself retracing +the way to Mrs. Hochmuller's door. She had told the conductor the +name of the street at which she wished to get out, and presently +she stood in the biting wind at the corner near the beer-saloon, +where the sun had once beat down on her so fiercely. At length an +empty car appeared, its yellow flank emblazoned with the name of +Mrs. Hochmuller's suburb, and Ann Eliza was presently jolting past +the narrow brick houses islanded between vacant lots like giant +piles in a desolate lagoon. When the car reached the end of its +journey she got out and stood for some time trying to remember +which turn Mr. Ramy had taken. She had just made up her mind to +ask the car-driver when he shook the reins on the backs of his lean +horses, and the car, still empty, jogged away toward Hoboken. + +Ann Eliza, left alone by the roadside, began to move +cautiously forward, looking about for a small red house with a +gable overhung by an elm-tree; but everything about her seemed +unfamiliar and forbidding. One or two surly looking men slouched +past with inquisitive glances, and she could not make up her mind +to stop and speak to them. + +At length a tow-headed boy came out of a swinging door +suggestive of illicit conviviality, and to him Ann Eliza ventured +to confide her difficulty. The offer of five cents fired him with +an instant willingness to lead her to Mrs. Hochmuller, and he was +soon trotting past the stone-cutter's yard with Ann Eliza in his wake. + +Another turn in the road brought them to the little red house, +and having rewarded her guide Ann Eliza unlatched the gate and +walked up to the door. Her heart was beating violently, and she +had to lean against the door-post to compose her twitching lips: +she had not known till that moment how much it was going to hurt +her to speak of Evelina to Mrs. Hochmuller. As her agitation +subsided she began to notice how much the appearance of the house +had changed. It was not only that winter had stripped the elm, and +blackened the flower-borders: the house itself had a debased and +deserted air. The window-panes were cracked and dirty, and one or +two shutters swung dismally on loosened hinges. + +She rang several times before the door was opened. At length +an Irish woman with a shawl over her head and a baby in her arms +appeared on the threshold, and glancing past her into the narrow +passage Ann Eliza saw that Mrs. Hochmuller's neat abode had +deteriorated as much within as without. + +At the mention of the name the woman stared. "Mrs. who, did +ye say?" + +"Mrs. Hochmuller. This is surely her house?" + +"No, it ain't neither," said the woman turning away. + +"Oh, but wait, please," Ann Eliza entreated. "I can't be +mistaken. I mean the Mrs. Hochmuller who takes in washing. I came +out to see her last June." + +"Oh, the Dutch washerwoman is it--her that used to live here? +She's been gone two months and more. It's Mike McNulty lives here +now. Whisht!" to the baby, who had squared his mouth for a howl. + +Ann Eliza's knees grew weak. "Mrs. Hochmuller gone? But +where has she gone? She must be somewhere round here. Can't you +tell me?" + +"Sure an' I can't," said the woman. "She wint away before +iver we come." + +"Dalia Geoghegan, will ye bring the choild in out av the +cowld?" cried an irate voice from within. + +"Please wait--oh, please wait," Ann Eliza insisted. "You see +I must find Mrs. Hochmuller." + +"Why don't ye go and look for her thin?" the woman returned, +slamming the door in her face. + +She stood motionless on the door-step, dazed by the immensity +of her disappointment, till a burst of loud voices inside the house +drove her down the path and out of the gate. + +Even then she could not grasp what had happened, and pausing +in the road she looked back at the house, half hoping that Mrs. +Hochmuller's once detested face might appear at one of the grimy +windows. + +She was roused by an icy wind that seemed to spring up +suddenly from the desolate scene, piercing her thin dress like +gauze; and turning away she began to retrace her steps. She +thought of enquiring for Mrs. Hochmuller at some of the +neighbouring houses, but their look was so unfriendly that she +walked on without making up her mind at which door to ring. When +she reached the horse-car terminus a car was just moving off toward +Hoboken, and for nearly an hour she had to wait on the corner in +the bitter wind. Her hands and feet were stiff with cold when the +car at length loomed into sight again, and she thought of stopping +somewhere on the way to the ferry for a cup of tea; but before the +region of lunch-rooms was reached she had grown so sick and dizzy +that the thought of food was repulsive. At length she found +herself on the ferry-boat, in the soothing stuffiness of the +crowded cabin; then came another interval of shivering on a +street-corner, another long jolting journey in a "cross-town" car that +smelt of damp straw and tobacco; and lastly, in the cold spring dusk, +she unlocked her door and groped her way through the shop to her +fireless bedroom. + +The next morning Mrs. Hawkins, dropping in to hear the result +of the trip, found Ann Eliza sitting behind the counter wrapped in +an old shawl. + +"Why, Miss Bunner, you're sick! You must have fever--your +face is just as red!" + +"It's nothing. I guess I caught cold yesterday on the ferry- +boat," Ann Eliza acknowledged. + +"And it's jest like a vault in here!" Mrs. Hawkins rebuked +her. "Let me feel your hand--it's burning. Now, Miss Bunner, +you've got to go right to bed this very minute." + +"Oh, but I can't, Mrs. Hawkins." Ann Eliza attempted a wan +smile. "You forget there ain't nobody but me to tend the store." + +"I guess you won't tend it long neither, if you ain't +careful," Mrs. Hawkins grimly rejoined. Beneath her placid +exterior she cherished a morbid passion for disease and death, and +the sight of Ann Eliza's suffering had roused her from her habitual +indifference. "There ain't so many folks comes to the store +anyhow," she went on with unconscious cruelty, "and I'll go right +up and see if Miss Mellins can't spare one of her girls." + +Ann Eliza, too weary to resist, allowed Mrs. Hawkins to put +her to bed and make a cup of tea over the stove, while Miss +Mellins, always good-naturedly responsive to any appeal for help, +sent down the weak-eyed little girl to deal with hypothetical +customers. + +Ann Eliza, having so far abdicated her independence, sank into +sudden apathy. As far as she could remember, it was the first time +in her life that she had been taken care of instead of taking care, +and there was a momentary relief in the surrender. She swallowed +the tea like an obedient child, allowed a poultice to be applied to +her aching chest and uttered no protest when a fire was kindled in +the rarely used grate; but as Mrs. Hawkins bent over to "settle" +her pillows she raised herself on her elbow to whisper: "Oh, Mrs. +Hawkins, Mrs. Hochmuller warn't there." The tears rolled down her +cheeks. + +"She warn't there? Has she moved?" + +"Over two months ago--and they don't know where she's gone. +Oh what'll I do, Mrs. Hawkins?" + +"There, there, Miss Bunner. You lay still and don't fret. +I'll ask Mr. Hawkins soon as ever he comes home." + +Ann Eliza murmured her gratitude, and Mrs. Hawkins, bending +down, kissed her on the forehead. "Don't you fret," she repeated, +in the voice with which she soothed her children. + +For over a week Ann Eliza lay in bed, faithfully nursed by her +two neighbours, while the weak-eyed child, and the pale sewing girl +who had helped to finish Evelina's wedding dress, took turns in +minding the shop. Every morning, when her friends appeared, Ann +Eliza lifted her head to ask: "Is there a letter?" and at their +gentle negative sank back in silence. Mrs. Hawkins, for several +days, spoke no more of her promise to consult her husband as to the +best way of tracing Mrs. Hochmuller; and dread of fresh +disappointment kept Ann Eliza from bringing up the subject. + +But the following Sunday evening, as she sat for the first +time bolstered up in her rocking-chair near the stove, while Miss +Mellins studied the Police Gazette beneath the lamp, there +came a knock on the shop-door and Mr. Hawkins entered. + +Ann Eliza's first glance at his plain friendly face showed her +he had news to give, but though she no longer attempted to hide her +anxiety from Miss Mellins, her lips trembled too much to let her +speak. + +"Good evening, Miss Bunner," said Mr. Hawkins in his dragging +voice. "I've been over to Hoboken all day looking round for Mrs. +Hochmuller." + +"Oh, Mr. Hawkins--you HAVE?" + +"I made a thorough search, but I'm sorry to say it was no use. +She's left Hoboken--moved clear away, and nobody seems to know +where." + +"It was real good of you, Mr. Hawkins." Ann Eliza's voice +struggled up in a faint whisper through the submerging tide of her +disappointment. + +Mr. Hawkins, in his embarrassed sense of being the bringer of +bad news, stood before her uncertainly; then he turned to go. "No +trouble at all," he paused to assure her from the doorway. + +She wanted to speak again, to detain him, to ask him +to advise her; but the words caught in her throat and she lay back +silent. + +The next day she got up early, and dressed and bonneted +herself with twitching fingers. She waited till the weak-eyed +child appeared, and having laid on her minute instructions as to +the care of the shop, she slipped out into the street. It had +occurred to her in one of the weary watches of the previous night +that she might go to Tiffany's and make enquiries about Ramy's +past. Possibly in that way she might obtain some information that +would suggest a new way of reaching Evelina. She was guiltily +aware that Mrs. Hawkins and Miss Mellins would be angry with her +for venturing out of doors, but she knew she should never feel any +better till she had news of Evelina. + +The morning air was sharp, and as she turned to face the wind +she felt so weak and unsteady that she wondered if she should ever +get as far as Union Square; but by walking very slowly, and +standing still now and then when she could do so without being +noticed, she found herself at last before the jeweller's great +glass doors. + +It was still so early that there were no purchasers in the +shop, and she felt herself the centre of innumerable unemployed +eyes as she moved forward between long lines of show-cases +glittering with diamonds and silver. + +She was glancing about in the hope of finding the clock- +department without having to approach one of the impressive +gentlemen who paced the empty aisles, when she attracted the +attention of one of the most impressive of the number. + +The formidable benevolence with which he enquired what he +could do for her made her almost despair of explaining herself; but +she finally disentangled from a flurry of wrong beginnings the +request to be shown to the clock-department. + +The gentleman considered her thoughtfully. "May I ask what +style of clock you are looking for? Would it be for a wedding- +present, or--?" + +The irony of the allusion filled Ann Eliza's veins with sudden +strength. "I don't want to buy a clock at all. I want to see the +head of the department." + +"Mr. Loomis?" His stare still weighed her--then he seemed to +brush aside the problem she presented as beneath his notice. "Oh, +certainly. Take the elevator to the second floor. Next aisle to +the left." He waved her down the endless perspective of show- +cases. + +Ann Eliza followed the line of his lordly gesture, and a swift +ascent brought her to a great hall full of the buzzing and booming +of thousands of clocks. Whichever way she looked, clocks stretched +away from her in glittering interminable vistas: clocks of all +sizes and voices, from the bell-throated giant of the hallway to +the chirping dressing-table toy; tall clocks of mahogany and brass +with cathedral chimes; clocks of bronze, glass, porcelain, of every +possible size, voice and configuration; and between their serried +ranks, along the polished floor of the aisles, moved the languid +forms of other gentlemanly floor-walkers, waiting for their duties +to begin. + +One of them soon approached, and Ann Eliza repeated her +request. He received it affably. + +"Mr. Loomis? Go right down to the office at the other end." +He pointed to a kind of box of ground glass and highly polished +panelling. + +As she thanked him he turned to one of his companions and said +something in which she caught the name of Mr. Loomis, and which was +received with an appreciative chuckle. She suspected herself of +being the object of the pleasantry, and straightened her thin +shoulders under her mantle. + +The door of the office stood open, and within sat a gray- +bearded man at a desk. He looked up kindly, and again she asked +for Mr. Loomis. + +"I'm Mr. Loomis. What can I do for you?" + +He was much less portentous than the others, though she +guessed him to be above them in authority; and encouraged by his +tone she seated herself on the edge of the chair he waved her to. + +"I hope you'll excuse my troubling you, sir. I came to ask if +you could tell me anything about Mr. Herman Ramy. He was employed +here in the clock-department two or three years ago." + +Mr. Loomis showed no recognition of the name. + +"Ramy? When was he discharged?" + +"I don't har'ly know. He was very sick, and when he +got well his place had been filled. He married my sister last +October and they went to St. Louis, I ain't had any news of them +for over two months, and she's my only sister, and I'm most crazy +worrying about her." + +"I see." Mr. Loomis reflected. "In what capacity was Ramy +employed here?" he asked after a moment. + +"He--he told us that he was one of the heads of the clock- +department," Ann Eliza stammered, overswept by a sudden doubt. + +"That was probably a slight exaggeration. But I can tell you +about him by referring to our books. The name again?" + +"Ramy--Herman Ramy." + +There ensued a long silence, broken only by the flutter of +leaves as Mr. Loomis turned over his ledgers. Presently he looked +up, keeping his finger between the pages. + +"Here it is--Herman Ramy. He was one of our ordinary workmen, +and left us three years and a half ago last June." + +"On account of sickness?" Ann Eliza faltered. + +Mr. Loomis appeared to hesitate; then he said: "I see no +mention of sickness." Ann Eliza felt his compassionate eyes on her +again. "Perhaps I'd better tell you the truth. He was discharged +for drug-taking. A capable workman, but we couldn't keep him +straight. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but it seems fairer, +since you say you're anxious about your sister." + +The polished sides of the office vanished from Ann Eliza's +sight, and the cackle of the innumerable clocks came to her like +the yell of waves in a storm. She tried to speak but could not; +tried to get to her feet, but the floor was gone. + +"I'm very sorry," Mr. Loomis repeated, closing the ledger. "I +remember the man perfectly now. He used to disappear every now and +then, and turn up again in a state that made him useless for days." + +As she listened, Ann Eliza recalled the day when she had come +on Mr. Ramy sitting in abject dejection behind his counter. She +saw again the blurred unrecognizing eyes he had raised to her, the +layer of dust over everything in the shop, and the green bronze +clock in the window representing a Newfoundland dog with his paw on +a book. She stood up slowly. + +"Thank you. I'm sorry to have troubled you." + +"It was no trouble. You say Ramy married your sister last +October?" + +"Yes, sir; and they went to St. Louis right afterward. I +don't know how to find her. I thought maybe somebody here might +know about him." + +"Well, possibly some of the workmen might. Leave me your name +and I'll send you word if I get on his track." + +He handed her a pencil, and she wrote down her address; then +she walked away blindly between the clocks. + + +XI + + +Mr. Loomis, true to his word, wrote a few days later that he +had enquired in vain in the work-shop for any news of Ramy; and as +she folded this letter and laid it between the leaves of her Bible, +Ann Eliza felt that her last hope was gone. Miss Mellins, of +course, had long since suggested the mediation of the police, and +cited from her favourite literature convincing instances of the +supernatural ability of the Pinkerton detective; but Mr. Hawkins, +when called in council, dashed this project by remarking that +detectives cost something like twenty dollars a day; and a vague +fear of the law, some half-formed vision of Evelina in the clutch +of a blue-coated "officer," kept Ann Eliza from invoking the aid of +the police. + +After the arrival of Mr. Loomis's note the weeks followed each +other uneventfully. Ann Eliza's cough clung to her till late in +the spring, the reflection in her looking-glass grew more bent and +meagre, and her forehead sloped back farther toward the twist of +hair that was fastened above her parting by a comb of black India- +rubber. + +Toward spring a lady who was expecting a baby took up her +abode at the Mendoza Family Hotel, and through the friendly +intervention of Miss Mellins the making of some of the baby-clothes +was entrusted to Ann Eliza. This eased her of anxiety for the +immediate future; but she had to rouse herself to feel any sense of +relief. Her personal welfare was what least concerned her. +Sometimes she thought of giving up the shop altogether; and +only the fear that, if she changed her address, Evelina might not +be able to find her, kept her from carrying out this plan. + +Since she had lost her last hope of tracing her sister, all +the activities of her lonely imagination had been concentrated on +the possibility of Evelina's coming back to her. The discovery of +Ramy's secret filled her with dreadful fears. In the solitude of +the shop and the back room she was tortured by vague pictures of +Evelina's sufferings. What horrors might not be hidden beneath her +silence? Ann Eliza's great dread was that Miss Mellins should worm +out of her what she had learned from Mr. Loomis. She was sure Miss +Mellins must have abominable things to tell about drug-fiends-- +things she did not have the strength to hear. "Drug-fiend"--the +very word was Satanic; she could hear Miss Mellins roll it on her +tongue. But Ann Eliza's own imagination, left to itself, had begun +to people the long hours with evil visions. Sometimes, in the +night, she thought she heard herself called: the voice was her +sister's, but faint with a nameless terror. Her most peaceful +moments were those in which she managed to convince herself that +Evelina was dead. She thought of her then, mournfully but more +calmly, as thrust away under the neglected mound of some unknown +cemetery, where no headstone marked her name, no mourner with +flowers for another grave paused in pity to lay a blossom on hers. +But this vision did not often give Ann Eliza its negative relief; +and always, beneath its hazy lines, lurked the dark conviction that +Evelina was alive, in misery and longing for her. + +So the summer wore on. Ann Eliza was conscious that Mrs. +Hawkins and Miss Mellins were watching her with affectionate +anxiety, but the knowledge brought no comfort. She no longer cared +what they felt or thought about her. Her grief lay far beyond +touch of human healing, and after a while she became aware that +they knew they could not help her. They still came in as often as +their busy lives permitted, but their visits grew shorter, and Mrs. +Hawkins always brought Arthur or the baby, so that there should be +something to talk about, and some one whom she could scold. + +The autumn came, and the winter. Business had fallen off +again, and but few purchasers came to the little shop in the +basement. In January Ann Eliza pawned her mother's cashmere scarf, +her mosaic brooch, and the rosewood what-not on which the clock had +always stood; she would have sold the bedstead too, but for the +persistent vision of Evelina returning weak and weary, and not +knowing where to lay her head. + +The winter passed in its turn, and March reappeared with its +galaxies of yellow jonquils at the windy street corners, reminding +Ann Eliza of the spring day when Evelina had come home with a bunch +of jonquils in her hand. In spite of the flowers which lent such +a premature brightness to the streets the month was fierce and +stormy, and Ann Eliza could get no warmth into her bones. +Nevertheless, she was insensibly beginning to take up the healing +routine of life. Little by little she had grown used to being +alone, she had begun to take a languid interest in the one or two +new purchasers the season had brought, and though the thought of +Evelina was as poignant as ever, it was less persistently in the +foreground of her mind. + +Late one afternoon she was sitting behind the counter, wrapped +in her shawl, and wondering how soon she might draw down the blinds +and retreat into the comparative cosiness of the back room. She +was not thinking of anything in particular, except perhaps in a +hazy way of the lady with the puffed sleeves, who after her long +eclipse had reappeared the day before in sleeves of a new cut, and +bought some tape and needles. The lady still wore mourning, but +she was evidently lightening it, and Ann Eliza saw in this the hope +of future orders. The lady had left the shop about an hour before, +walking away with her graceful step toward Fifth Avenue. She had +wished Ann Eliza good day in her usual affable way, and Ann Eliza +thought how odd it was that they should have been acquainted so +long, and yet that she should not know the lady's name. From this +consideration her mind wandered to the cut of the lady's new +sleeves, and she was vexed with herself for not having noted it +more carefully. She felt Miss Mellins might have liked to know +about it. Ann Eliza's powers of observation had never been +as keen as Evelina's, when the latter was not too self-absorbed to +exert them. As Miss Mellins always said, Evelina could "take +patterns with her eyes": she could have cut that new sleeve out of +a folded newspaper in a trice! Musing on these things, Ann Eliza +wished the lady would come back and give her another look at the +sleeve. It was not unlikely that she might pass that way, for she +certainly lived in or about the Square. Suddenly Ann Eliza +remarked a small neat handkerchief on the counter: it must have +dropped from the lady's purse, and she would probably come back to +get it. Ann Eliza, pleased at the idea, sat on behind the counter +and watched the darkening street. She always lit the gas as late +as possible, keeping the box of matches at her elbow, so that if +any one came she could apply a quick flame to the gas-jet. At +length through the deepening dusk she distinguished a slim dark +figure coming down the steps to the shop. With a little warmth of +pleasure about her heart she reached up to light the gas. "I do +believe I'll ask her name this time," she thought. She raised the +flame to its full height, and saw her sister standing in the door. + +There she was at last, the poor pale shade of Evelina, her +thin face blanched of its faint pink, the stiff ripples gone from +her hair, and a mantle shabbier than Ann Eliza's drawn about her +narrow shoulders. The glare of the gas beat full on her as she +stood and looked at Ann Eliza. + +"Sister--oh, Evelina! I knowed you'd come!" + +Ann Eliza had caught her close with a long moan of triumph. +Vague words poured from her as she laid her cheek against +Evelina's--trivial inarticulate endearments caught from Mrs. +Hawkins's long discourses to her baby. + +For a while Evelina let herself be passively held; then she +drew back from her sister's clasp and looked about the shop. "I'm +dead tired. Ain't there any fire?" she asked. + +"Of course there is!" Ann Eliza, holding her hand fast, drew +her into the back room. She did not want to ask any questions yet: +she simply wanted to feel the emptiness of the room brimmed full +again by the one presence that was warmth and light to her. + +She knelt down before the grate, scraped some bits of coal and +kindling from the bottom of the coal-scuttle, and drew one of the +rocking-chairs up to the weak flame. "There--that'll blaze up in +a minute," she said. She pressed Evelina down on the faded +cushions of the rocking-chair, and, kneeling beside her, began to +rub her hands. + +"You're stone-cold, ain't you? Just sit still and warm +yourself while I run and get the kettle. I've got something you +always used to fancy for supper." She laid her hand on Evelina's +shoulder. "Don't talk--oh, don't talk yet!" she implored. She +wanted to keep that one frail second of happiness between herself +and what she knew must come. + +Evelina, without a word, bent over the fire, stretching her +thin hands to the blaze and watching Ann Eliza fill the kettle and +set the supper table. Her gaze had the dreamy fixity of a half- +awakened child's. + +Ann Eliza, with a smile of triumph, brought a slice of custard +pie from the cupboard and put it by her sister's plate. + +"You do like that, don't you? Miss Mellins sent it down to me +this morning. She had her aunt from Brooklyn to dinner. Ain't it +funny it just so happened?" + +"I ain't hungry," said Evelina, rising to approach the table. + +She sat down in her usual place, looked about her with the +same wondering stare, and then, as of old, poured herself out the +first cup of tea. + +"Where's the what-not gone to?" she suddenly asked. + +Ann Eliza set down the teapot and rose to get a spoon from the +cupboard. With her back to the room she said: "The what-not? Why, +you see, dearie, living here all alone by myself it only made one +more thing to dust; so I sold it." + +Evelina's eyes were still travelling about the familiar room. +Though it was against all the traditions of the Bunner family to +sell any household possession, she showed no surprise at her +sister's answer. + +"And the clock? The clock's gone too." + +"Oh, I gave that away--I gave it to Mrs. Hawkins. She's kep' +awake so nights with that last baby." + +"I wish you'd never bought it," said Evelina harshly. + +Ann Eliza's heart grew faint with fear. Without answering, +she crossed over to her sister's seat and poured her out a second +cup of tea. Then another thought struck her, and she went back to +the cupboard and took out the cordial. In Evelina's absence +considerable draughts had been drawn from it by invalid neighbours; +but a glassful of the precious liquid still remained. + +"Here, drink this right off--it'll warm you up quicker than +anything," Ann Eliza said. + +Evelina obeyed, and a slight spark of colour came into her +cheeks. She turned to the custard pie and began to eat with a +silent voracity distressing to watch. She did not even look to see +what was left for Ann Eliza. + +"I ain't hungry," she said at last as she laid down her fork. +"I'm only so dead tired--that's the trouble." + +"then you'd better get right into bed. Here's my old plaid +dressing-gown--you remember it, don't you?" Ann Eliza laughed, +recalling Evelina's ironies on the subject of the antiquated +garment. With trembling fingers she began to undo her sister's +cloak. The dress beneath it told a tale of poverty that Ann Eliza +dared not pause to note. She drew it gently off, and as it slipped +from Evelina's shoulders it revealed a tiny black bag hanging on a +ribbon about her neck. Evelina lifted her hand as though to screen +the bag from Ann Eliza; and the elder sister, seeing the gesture, +continued her task with lowered eyes. She undressed Evelina as +quickly as she could, and wrapping her in the plaid dressing-gown +put her to bed, and spread her own shawl and her sister's cloak +above the blanket. + +"Where's the old red comfortable?" Evelina asked, as she sank +down on the pillow. + +"The comfortable? Oh, it was so hot and heavy I never used it +after you went--so I sold that too. I never could sleep under much +clothes." + +She became aware that her sister was looking at her more +attentively. + +"I guess you've been in trouble too," Evelina said. + +"Me? In trouble? What do you mean, Evelina?" + +"You've had to pawn the things, I suppose," Evelina continued +in a weary unmoved tone. "Well, I've been through worse than that. +I've been to hell and back." + +"Oh, Evelina--don't say it, sister!" Ann Eliza implored, +shrinking from the unholy word. She knelt down and began to rub +her sister's feet beneath the bedclothes. + +"I've been to hell and back--if I AM back," Evelina +repeated. She lifted her head from the pillow and began to talk +with a sudden feverish volubility. "It began right away, less than +a month after we were married. I've been in hell all that time, +Ann Eliza." She fixed her eyes with passionate intentness on Ann +Eliza's face. "He took opium. I didn't find it out till long +afterward--at first, when he acted so strange, I thought he drank. +But it was worse, much worse than drinking." + +"Oh, sister, don't say it--don't say it yet! It's so sweet +just to have you here with me again." + +"I must say it," Evelina insisted, her flushed face burning +with a kind of bitter cruelty. "You don't know what life's like-- +you don't know anything about it--setting here safe all the while +in this peaceful place." + +"Oh, Evelina--why didn't you write and send for me if it was +like that?" + +"That's why I couldn't write. Didn't you guess I was +ashamed?" + +"How could you be? Ashamed to write to Ann Eliza?" + +Evelina raised herself on her thin elbow, while Ann Eliza, +bending over, drew a corner of the shawl about her shoulder. + +"Do lay down again. You'll catch your death." + +"My death? That don't frighten me! You don't know what I've +been through." And sitting upright in the old mahogany bed, with +flushed cheeks and chattering teeth, and Ann Eliza's trembling arm +clasping the shawl about her neck, Evelina poured out her story. +It was a tale of misery and humiliation so remote from the elder +sister's innocent experiences that much of it was hardly +intelligible to her. Evelina's dreadful familiarity with it all, +her fluency about things which Ann Eliza half-guessed and quickly +shuddered back from, seemed even more alien and terrible than +the actual tale she told. It was one thing--and heaven knew +it was bad enough!--to learn that one's sister's husband was a +drug-fiend; it was another, and much worse thing, to learn from +that sister's pallid lips what vileness lay behind the word. + +Evelina, unconscious of any distress but her own, sat upright, +shivering in Ann Eliza's hold, while she piled up, detail by +detail, her dreary narrative. + +"The minute we got out there, and he found the job wasn't as +good as he expected, he changed. At first I thought he was sick--I +used to try to keep him home and nurse him. Then I saw it was +something different. He used to go off for hours at a time, and +when he came back his eyes kinder had a fog over them. Sometimes +he didn't har'ly know me, and when he did he seemed to hate me. +Once he hit me here." She touched her breast. "Do you remember, +Ann Eliza, that time he didn't come to see us for a week--the time +after we all went to Central Park together--and you and I thought +he must be sick?" + +Ann Eliza nodded. + +"Well, that was the trouble--he'd been at it then. But +nothing like as bad. After we'd been out there about a month he +disappeared for a whole week. They took him back at the store, and +gave him another chance; but the second time they discharged him, +and he drifted round for ever so long before he could get another +job. We spent all our money and had to move to a cheaper place. +Then he got something to do, but they hardly paid him anything, and +he didn't stay there long. When he found out about the baby--" + +"The baby?" Ann Eliza faltered. + +"It's dead--it only lived a day. When he found out about it, +he got mad, and said he hadn't any money to pay doctors' bills, and +I'd better write to you to help us. He had an idea you had money +hidden away that I didn't know about." She turned to her sister +with remorseful eyes. "It was him that made me get that hundred +dollars out of you." + +"Hush, hush. I always meant it for you anyhow." + +"Yes, but I wouldn't have taken it if he hadn't been at me the +whole time. He used to make me do just what he wanted. Well, when +I said I wouldn't write to you for more money he said I'd better +try and earn some myself. That was when he struck me. . . . Oh, +you don't know what I'm talking about yet! . . . I tried to get +work at a milliner's, but I was so sick I couldn't stay. I was +sick all the time. I wisht I'd ha' died, Ann Eliza." + +"No, no, Evelina." + +"Yes, I do. It kept getting worse and worse. We pawned the +furniture, and they turned us out because we couldn't pay the rent; +and so then we went to board with Mrs. Hochmuller." + +Ann Eliza pressed her closer to dissemble her own tremor. +"Mrs. Hochmuller?" + +"Didn't you know she was out there? She moved out a month +after we did. She wasn't bad to me, and I think she tried to keep +him straight--but Linda--" + +"Linda--?" + +"Well, when I kep' getting worse, and he was always off, for +days at a time, the doctor had me sent to a hospital." + +"A hospital? Sister--sister!" + +"It was better than being with him; and the doctors were real +kind to me. After the baby was born I was very sick and had to +stay there a good while. And one day when I was laying there Mrs. +Hochmuller came in as white as a sheet, and told me him and Linda +had gone off together and taken all her money. That's the last I +ever saw of him." She broke off with a laugh and began to cough +again. + +Ann Eliza tried to persuade her to lie down and sleep, but the +rest of her story had to be told before she could be soothed into +consent. After the news of Ramy's flight she had had brain fever, +and had been sent to another hospital where she stayed a long +time--how long she couldn't remember. Dates and days meant nothing +to her in the shapeless ruin of her life. When she left the +hospital she found that Mrs. Hochmuller had gone too. She was +penniless, and had no one to turn to. A lady visitor at the +hospital was kind, and found her a place where she did housework; +but she was so weak they couldn't keep her. Then she got a job as +waitress in a down-town lunch-room, but one day she fainted while +she was handing a dish, and that evening when they paid her +they told her she needn't come again. + +"After that I begged in the streets"--(Ann Eliza's grasp again +grew tight)--"and one afternoon last week, when the matinees was +coming out, I met a man with a pleasant face, something like Mr. +Hawkins, and he stopped and asked me what the trouble was. I told +him if he'd give me five dollars I'd have money enough to buy a +ticket back to New York, and he took a good look at me and said, +well, if that was what I wanted he'd go straight to the station +with me and give me the five dollars there. So he did--and he +bought the ticket, and put me in the cars." + +Evelina sank back, her face a sallow wedge in the white cleft +of the pillow. Ann Eliza leaned over her, and for a long time they +held each other without speaking. + +They were still clasped in this dumb embrace when there was a +step in the shop and Ann Eliza, starting up, saw Miss Mellins in +the doorway. + +"My sakes, Miss Bunner! What in the land are you doing? Miss +Evelina--Mrs. Ramy--it ain't you?" + +Miss Mellins's eyes, bursting from their sockets, sprang from +Evelina's pallid face to the disordered supper table and the heap +of worn clothes on the floor; then they turned back to Ann Eliza, +who had placed herself on the defensive between her sister and the +dress-maker. + +"My sister Evelina has come back--come back on a visit. she +was taken sick in the cars on the way home--I guess she caught +cold--so I made her go right to bed as soon as ever she got here." + +Ann Eliza was surprised at the strength and steadiness of her +voice. Fortified by its sound she went on, her eyes on Miss +Mellins's baffled countenance: "Mr. Ramy has gone west on a trip--a +trip connected with his business; and Evelina is going to stay with +me till he comes back." + + +XII + + +What measure of belief her explanation of Evelina's return +obtained in the small circle of her friends Ann Eliza did not pause +to enquire. Though she could not remember ever having told a lie +before, she adhered with rigid tenacity to the consequences of her +first lapse from truth, and fortified her original statement with +additional details whenever a questioner sought to take her +unawares. + +But other and more serious burdens lay on her startled +conscience. For the first time in her life she dimly faced the +awful problem of the inutility of self-sacrifice. Hitherto she had +never thought of questioning the inherited principles which had +guided her life. Self-effacement for the good of others had always +seemed to her both natural and necessary; but then she had taken it +for granted that it implied the securing of that good. Now she +perceived that to refuse the gifts of life does not ensure their +transmission to those for whom they have been surrendered; and her +familiar heaven was unpeopled. She felt she could no longer trust +in the goodness of God, and there was only a black abyss above the +roof of Bunner Sisters. + +But there was little time to brood upon such problems. The +care of Evelina filled Ann Eliza's days and nights. The hastily +summoned doctor had pronounced her to be suffering from pneumonia, +and under his care the first stress of the disease was relieved. +But her recovery was only partial, and long after the doctor's +visits had ceased she continued to lie in bed, too weak to move, +and seemingly indifferent to everything about her. + +At length one evening, about six weeks after her return, she +said to her sister: "I don't feel's if I'd ever get up again." + +Ann Eliza turned from the kettle she was placing on the stove. +She was startled by the echo the words woke in her own breast. + +"Don't you talk like that, Evelina! I guess you're on'y tired +out--and disheartened." + +"Yes, I'm disheartened," Evelina murmured. + +A few months earlier Ann Eliza would have met the confession +with a word of pious admonition; now she accepted it in silence. + +"Maybe you'll brighten up when your cough gets better," she +suggested. + +"Yes--or my cough'll get better when I brighten up," Evelina +retorted with a touch of her old tartness. + +"Does your cough keep on hurting you jest as much?" + +"I don't see's there's much difference." + +"Well, I guess I'll get the doctor to come round again," Ann +Eliza said, trying for the matter-of-course tone in which one might +speak of sending for the plumber or the gas-fitter. + +"It ain't any use sending for the doctor--and who's going to +pay him?" + +"I am," answered the elder sister. "Here's your tea, and a +mite of toast. Don't that tempt you?" + +Already, in the watches of the night, Ann Eliza had been +tormented by that same question--who was to pay the doctor?--and a +few days before she had temporarily silenced it by borrowing twenty +dollars of Miss Mellins. The transaction had cost her one of the +bitterest struggles of her life. She had never borrowed a penny of +any one before, and the possibility of having to do so had always +been classed in her mind among those shameful extremities to which +Providence does not let decent people come. But nowadays she no +longer believed in the personal supervision of Providence; and had +she been compelled to steal the money instead of borrowing it, she +would have felt that her conscience was the only tribunal before +which she had to answer. Nevertheless, the actual humiliation of +having to ask for the money was no less bitter; and she could +hardly hope that Miss Mellins would view the case with the same +detachment as herself. Miss Mellins was very kind; but she not +unnaturally felt that her kindness should be rewarded by according +her the right to ask questions; and bit by bit Ann Eliza saw +Evelina's miserable secret slipping into the dress-maker's +possession. + +When the doctor came she left him alone with Evelina, busying +herself in the shop that she might have an opportunity of seeing +him alone on his way out. To steady herself she began to sort a +trayful of buttons, and when the doctor appeared she was reciting +under her breath: "Twenty-four horn, two and a half cards fancy +pearl . . ." She saw at once that his look was grave. + +He sat down on the chair beside the counter, and her mind +travelled miles before he spoke. + +"Miss Bunner, the best thing you can do is to let me get a bed +for your sister at St. Luke's." + +"The hospital?" + +"Come now, you're above that sort of prejudice, aren't you?" +The doctor spoke in the tone of one who coaxes a spoiled child. "I +know how devoted you are--but Mrs. Ramy can be much better cared +for there than here. You really haven't time to look after her and +attend to your business as well. There'll be no expense, you +understand--" + +Ann Eliza made no answer. "You think my sister's going to be +sick a good while, then?" she asked. + +"Well, yes--possibly." + +"You think she's very sick?" + +"Well, yes. She's very sick." + +His face had grown still graver; he sat there as though he had +never known what it was to hurry. + +Ann Eliza continued to separate the pearl and horn buttons. +Suddenly she lifted her eyes and looked at him. "Is she going to +die?" + +The doctor laid a kindly hand on hers. "We never say that, +Miss Bunner. Human skill works wonders--and at the hospital Mrs. +Ramy would have every chance." + +"What is it? What's she dying of?" + +The doctor hesitated, seeking to substitute a popular phrase +for the scientific terminology which rose to his lips. + +"I want to know," Ann Eliza persisted. + +"Yes, of course; I understand. Well, your sister has had a +hard time lately, and there is a complication of causes, resulting +in consumption--rapid consumption. At the hospital--" + +"I'll keep her here," said Ann Eliza quietly. + +After the doctor had gone she went on for some time sorting +the buttons; then she slipped the tray into its place on a shelf +behind the counter and went into the back room. She found Evelina +propped upright against the pillows, a flush of agitation on her +cheeks. Ann Eliza pulled up the shawl which had slipped from her +sister's shoulders. + +"How long you've been! What's he been saying?" + +"Oh, he went long ago--he on'y stopped to give me a +prescription. I was sorting out that tray of buttons. Miss +Mellins's girl got them all mixed up." + +She felt Evelina's eyes upon her. + +"He must have said something: what was it?" + +"Why, he said you'd have to be careful--and stay in bed--and +take this new medicine he's given you." + +"Did he say I was going to get well?" + +"Why, Evelina!" + +"What's the use, Ann Eliza? You can't deceive me. I've just +been up to look at myself in the glass; and I saw plenty of 'em in +the hospital that looked like me. They didn't get well, and I +ain't going to." Her head dropped back. "It don't much matter-- +I'm about tired. On'y there's one thing--Ann Eliza--" + +The elder sister drew near to the bed. + +"There's one thing I ain't told you. I didn't want to tell +you yet because I was afraid you might be sorry--but if he says I'm +going to die I've got to say it." She stopped to cough, and to Ann +Eliza it now seemed as though every cough struck a minute from the +hours remaining to her. + +"Don't talk now--you're tired." + +"I'll be tireder to-morrow, I guess. And I want you should +know. Sit down close to me--there." + +Ann Eliza sat down in silence, stroking her shrunken hand. + +"I'm a Roman Catholic, Ann Eliza." + +"Evelina--oh, Evelina Bunner! A Roman Catholic--YOU? +Oh, Evelina, did HE make you?" + +Evelina shook her head. "I guess he didn't have no religion; +he never spoke of it. But you see Mrs. Hochmuller was a Catholic, +and so when I was sick she got the doctor to send me to a Roman +Catholic hospital, and the sisters was so good to me there--and the +priest used to come and talk to me; and the things he said kep' me +from going crazy. He seemed to make everything easier." + +"Oh, sister, how could you?" Ann Eliza wailed. She knew +little of the Catholic religion except that "Papists" believed in +it--in itself a sufficient indictment. Her spiritual rebellion had +not freed her from the formal part of her religious belief, and +apostasy had always seemed to her one of the sins from which the +pure in mind avert their thoughts. + +"And then when the baby was born," Evelina continued, "he +christened it right away, so it could go to heaven; and after that, +you see, I had to be a Catholic." + +"I don't see--" + +"Don't I have to be where the baby is? I couldn't ever ha' +gone there if I hadn't been made a Catholic. Don't you understand +that?" + +Ann Eliza sat speechless, drawing her hand away. Once more +she found herself shut out of Evelina's heart, an exile from her +closest affections. + +"I've got to go where the baby is," Evelina feverishly +insisted. + +Ann Eliza could think of nothing to say; she could only feel +that Evelina was dying, and dying as a stranger in her arms. Ramy +and the day-old baby had parted her forever from her sister. + +Evelina began again. "If I get worse I want you to send for +a priest. Miss Mellins'll know where to send--she's got an aunt +that's a Catholic. Promise me faithful you will." + +"I promise," said Ann Eliza. + +After that they spoke no more of the matter; but Ann Eliza now +understood that the little black bag about her sister's neck, which +she had innocently taken for a memento of Ramy, was some kind of +sacrilegious amulet, and her fingers shrank from its contact when +she bathed and dressed Evelina. It seemed to her the diabolical +instrument of their estrangement. + + +XIII + + +Spring had really come at last. There were leaves on the +ailanthus-tree that Evelina could see from her bed, gentle clouds +floated over it in the blue, and now and then the cry of a flower- +seller sounded from the street. + +One day there was a shy knock on the back-room door, and +Johnny Hawkins came in with two yellow jonquils in his fist. He +was getting bigger and squarer, and his round freckled face was +growing into a smaller copy of his father's. He walked up to +Evelina and held out the flowers. + +"They blew off the cart and the fellow said I could keep 'em. +But you can have 'em," he announced. + +Ann Eliza rose from her seat at the sewing-machine and tried +to take the flowers from him. + +"They ain't for you; they're for her," he sturdily objected; +and Evelina held out her hand for the jonquils. + +After Johnny had gone she lay and looked at them without +speaking. Ann Eliza, who had gone back to the machine, bent her +head over the seam she was stitching; the click, click, click of +the machine sounded in her ear like the tick of Ramy's clock, and +it seemed to her that life had gone backward, and that Evelina, +radiant and foolish, had just come into the room with the yellow +flowers in her hand. + +When at last she ventured to look up, she saw that her +sister's head had drooped against the pillow, and that she was +sleeping quietly. Her relaxed hand still held the jonquils, but it +was evident that they had awakened no memories; she had dozed off +almost as soon as Johnny had given them to her. The discovery gave +Ann Eliza a startled sense of the ruins that must be piled upon her +past. "I don't believe I could have forgotten that day, though," +she said to herself. But she was glad that Evelina had forgotten. + +Evelina's disease moved on along the usual course, now lifting +her on a brief wave of elation, now sinking her to new depths of +weakness. There was little to be done, and the doctor came only at +lengthening intervals. On his way out he always repeated his first +friendly suggestion about sending Evelina to the hospital; and Ann +Eliza always answered: "I guess we can manage." + +The hours passed for her with the fierce rapidity that great +joy or anguish lends them. She went through the days with a +sternly smiling precision, but she hardly knew what was happening, +and when night-fall released her from the shop, and she could carry +her work to Evelina's bedside, the same sense of unreality +accompanied her, and she still seemed to be accomplishing a task +whose object had escaped her memory. + +Once, when Evelina felt better, she expressed a desire to make +some artificial flowers, and Ann Eliza, deluded by this awakening +interest, got out the faded bundles of stems and petals and the +little tools and spools of wire. But after a few minutes the work +dropped from Evelina's hands and she said: "I'll wait until to- +morrow." + +She never again spoke of the flower-making, but one day, after +watching Ann Eliza's laboured attempt to trim a spring hat for Mrs. +Hawkins, she demanded impatiently that the hat should be brought to +her, and in a trice had galvanized the lifeless bow and given the +brim the twist it needed. + +These were rare gleams; and more frequent were the days of +speechless lassitude, when she lay for hours silently staring at +the window, shaken only by the hard incessant cough that sounded to +Ann Eliza like the hammering of nails into a coffin. + +At length one morning Ann Eliza, starting up from the mattress +at the foot of the bed, hastily called Miss Mellins down, and ran +through the smoky dawn for the doctor. He came back with her and +did what he could to give Evelina momentary relief; then he went +away, promising to look in again before night. Miss Mellins, her +head still covered with curl-papers, disappeared in his wake, and +when the sisters were alone Evelina beckoned to Ann Eliza. + +"You promised," she whispered, grasping her sister's arm; and +Ann Eliza understood. She had not yet dared to tell Miss Mellins +of Evelina's change of faith; it had seemed even more difficult +than borrowing the money; but now it had to be done. She ran +upstairs after the dress-maker and detained her on the landing. + +"Miss Mellins, can you tell me where to send for a priest--a +Roman Catholic priest?" + +"A priest, Miss Bunner?" + +"Yes. My sister became a Roman Catholic while she was away. +They were kind to her in her sickness--and now she wants a priest." +Ann Eliza faced Miss Mellins with unflinching eyes. + +"My aunt Dugan'll know. I'll run right round to her the +minute I get my papers off," the dress-maker promised; and Ann +Eliza thanked her. + +An hour or two later the priest appeared. Ann Eliza, who was +watching, saw him coming down the steps to the shop-door and went +to meet him. His expression was kind, but she shrank from +his peculiar dress, and from his pale face with its bluish chin and +enigmatic smile. Ann Eliza remained in the shop. Miss Mellins's +girl had mixed the buttons again and she set herself to sort them. +The priest stayed a long time with Evelina. When he again carried +his enigmatic smile past the counter, and Ann Eliza rejoined her +sister, Evelina was smiling with something of the same mystery; but +she did not tell her secret. + +After that it seemed to Ann Eliza that the shop and the back +room no longer belonged to her. It was as though she were there on +sufferance, indulgently tolerated by the unseen power which hovered +over Evelina even in the absence of its minister. The priest came +almost daily; and at last a day arrived when he was called to +administer some rite of which Ann Eliza but dimly grasped the +sacramental meaning. All she knew was that it meant that Evelina +was going, and going, under this alien guidance, even farther from +her than to the dark places of death. + +When the priest came, with something covered in his hands, she +crept into the shop, closing the door of the back room to leave him +alone with Evelina. + +It was a warm afternoon in May, and the crooked ailanthus-tree +rooted in a fissure of the opposite pavement was a fountain of +tender green. Women in light dresses passed with the languid step +of spring; and presently there came a man with a hand-cart full of +pansy and geranium plants who stopped outside the window, +signalling to Ann Eliza to buy. + +An hour went by before the door of the back room opened and +the priest reappeared with that mysterious covered something in his +hands. Ann Eliza had risen, drawing back as he passed. He had +doubtless divined her antipathy, for he had hitherto only bowed in +going in and out; but to day he paused and looked at her +compassionately. + +"I have left your sister in a very beautiful state of mind," +he said in a low voice like a woman's. "She is full of spiritual +consolation." + +Ann Eliza was silent, and he bowed and went out. She hastened +back to Evelina's bed, and knelt down beside it. Evelina's eyes +were very large and bright; she turned them on Ann Eliza with a +look of inner illumination. + +"I shall see the baby," she said; then her eyelids fell and +she dozed. + +The doctor came again at nightfall, administering some last +palliatives; and after he had gone Ann Eliza, refusing to have her +vigil shared by Miss Mellins or Mrs. Hawkins, sat down to keep +watch alone. + +It was a very quiet night. Evelina never spoke or opened her +eyes, but in the still hour before dawn Ann Eliza saw that the +restless hand outside the bed-clothes had stopped its twitching. +She stooped over and felt no breath on her sister's lips. + + +The funeral took place three days later. Evelina was buried +in Calvary Cemetery, the priest assuming the whole care of the +necessary arrangements, while Ann Eliza, a passive spectator, +beheld with stony indifference this last negation of her past. + +A week afterward she stood in her bonnet and mantle in the +doorway of the little shop. Its whole aspect had changed. Counter +and shelves were bare, the window was stripped of its familiar +miscellany of artificial flowers, note-paper, wire hat-frames, and +limp garments from the dyer's; and against the glass pane of the +doorway hung a sign: "This store to let." + +Ann Eliza turned her eyes from the sign as she went out and +locked the door behind her. Evelina's funeral had been very +expensive, and Ann Eliza, having sold her stock-in-trade and the +few articles of furniture that remained to her, was leaving the +shop for the last time. She had not been able to buy any mourning, +but Miss Mellins had sewed some crape on her old black mantle and +bonnet, and having no gloves she slipped her bare hands under the +folds of the mantle. + +It was a beautiful morning, and the air was full of a warm +sunshine that had coaxed open nearly every window in the street, +and summoned to the window-sills the sickly plants nurtured indoors +in winter. Ann Eliza's way lay westward, toward Broadway; but at +the corner she paused and looked back down the familiar length of +the street. Her eyes rested a moment on the blotched "Bunner +Sisters" above the empty window of the shop; then they travelled on +to the overflowing foliage of the Square, above which was +the church tower with the dial that had marked the hours for the +sisters before Ann Eliza had bought the nickel clock. She looked +at it all as though it had been the scene of some unknown life, of +which the vague report had reached her: she felt for herself the +only remote pity that busy people accord to the misfortunes which +come to them by hearsay. + +She walked to Broadway and down to the office of the house- +agent to whom she had entrusted the sub-letting of the shop. She +left the key with one of his clerks, who took it from her as if it +had been any one of a thousand others, and remarked that the +weather looked as if spring was really coming; then she turned and +began to move up the great thoroughfare, which was just beginning +to wake to its multitudinous activities. + +She walked less rapidly now, studying each shop window as she +passed, but not with the desultory eye of enjoyment: the watchful +fixity of her gaze overlooked everything but the object of its +quest. At length she stopped before a small window wedged between +two mammoth buildings, and displaying, behind its shining plate- +glass festooned with muslin, a varied assortment of sofa-cushions, +tea-cloths, pen-wipers, painted calendars and other specimens of +feminine industry. In a corner of the window she had read, on a +slip of paper pasted against the pane: "Wanted, a Saleslady," and +after studying the display of fancy articles beneath it, she gave +her mantle a twitch, straightened her shoulders and went in. + +Behind a counter crowded with pin-cushions, watch-holders and +other needlework trifles, a plump young woman with smooth hair sat +sewing bows of ribbon on a scrap basket. The little shop was about +the size of the one on which Ann Eliza had just closed the door; +and it looked as fresh and gay and thriving as she and Evelina had +once dreamed of making Bunner Sisters. The friendly air of the +place made her pluck up courage to speak. + +"Saleslady? Yes, we do want one. Have you any one to +recommend?" the young woman asked, not unkindly. + +Ann Eliza hesitated, disconcerted by the unexpected question; +and the other, cocking her head on one side to study the effect of +the bow she had just sewed on the basket, continued: "We can't +afford more than thirty dollars a month, but the work is light. +She would be expected to do a little fancy sewing between times. +We want a bright girl: stylish, and pleasant manners. You know +what I mean. Not over thirty, anyhow; and nice-looking. Will you +write down the name?" + +Ann Eliza looked at her confusedly. She opened her lips to +explain, and then, without speaking, turned toward the crisply- +curtained door. + +"Ain't you going to leave the AD-dress?" the young woman +called out after her. Ann Eliza went out into the thronged +street. The great city, under the fair spring sky, seemed to throb +with the stir of innumerable beginnings. She walked on, looking +for another shop window with a sign in it. + + + THE END. + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of Bunner Sisters by Edith Wharton + + + diff --git a/old/bunnr10.zip b/old/bunnr10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..718b29a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/bunnr10.zip |