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diff --git a/32707-8.txt b/32707-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..07df95a --- /dev/null +++ b/32707-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,21411 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Anne, by Constance Fenimore Woolson + +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: Anne + +Author: Constance Fenimore Woolson + +Illustrator: Charles S. Reinhart + +Release Date: June 6, 2010 [EBook #32707] +[Last updated: March 15, 2012] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANNE *** + + + + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project and The Internet Archive.) + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "I PUT MY ARMS AROUND HER." _See Page 470._] + + + + +ANNE + +A Novel + +BY +CONSTANCE FENIMORE WOOLSON + +_ILLUSTRATED BY C. S. REINHART_ + +NEW YORK +HARPER & BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE + +Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1882, by +HARPER & BROTHERS, +In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. + +_All rights reserved._ + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. + + +"I PUT MY ARMS ROUND HER" _Frontispiece._ + +"THE GIRL PAUSED AND REFLECTED A MOMENT" _To face Page_ 18 + +"AS SHE BENT OVER THE OLD VOLUME" " 42 + +LOIS HINSDALE " 62 + +"AND IT ENDED IN THEIR RACING DOWN TOGETHER" " 84 + +"ALARMED, HE BENT OVER HER" " 104 + +"SHE SAT THERE HIGH IN THE AIR WHILE THE STEAMER +BACKED OUT FROM THE PIERS" " 120 + +"YOU KNOW I TOO MUST GO FAR AWAY" " 132 + +TITA LISTENING " 136 + +"DEAR ME! WHAT CAN BE DONE WITH SUCH +A YOUNG SAVAGE?" " 152 + +IN THE WOODS " 186 + +"HE TOOK HIS BEST COAT FROM HIS LEAN VALISE" " 208 + +"HE WAS MERELY NOTING THE EFFECT" " 226 + +"SHE BATHED HER FLUSHED CHEEKS" " 234 + +"SHE STARTED SLIGHTLY" " 254 + +"SHE BURIED HER FACE TREMBLINGLY IN HER +HANDS" " 262 + +"ANNE DREW A CHAIR TO THE BEDSIDE, AND SAT +DOWN WITH HER BACK TO THE MOONLIGHT" " 284 + +"WHILE HER MAID WAS COILING HER FAIR HAIR" " 308 + +"IT IS, OR SHOULD BE, OVER THERE" " 328 + +"MISS LOIS SIGHED DEEPLY" " 350 + +"JULY WALKED IN FRONT, WITH HIS GUN OVER +HIS SHOULDER" " 374 + +"SHE TRIED TO RISE, BUT HE HELD HER ARM WITH +BOTH HANDS" " 386 + +"WEAK, HOLDING ON BY THE TREES" " 392 + +"SAW HER SLOWLY ASCEND THE HOUSE STEPS" " 408 + +"ANNE, STILL AS A STATUE" " 432 + +"HE ROSE, AND TOOK HER COLD HANDS IN HIS" " 460 + +"HE OBEYED WITHOUT COMMENT" " 498 + +"THE SECOND BOAT, WHICH WAS FARTHER UP THE +LAKE, CONTAINED A MAN" " 514 + +"HE REACHED THE WINDOWS, AND PEEPED THROUGH +A CRACK IN THE OLD BLIND" " 530 + + + + +ANNE. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + "Heaven lies about us in our infancy! + Shades of the prison-house begin to close + Upon the growing boy; + But he beholds the light, and whence it flows, + He sees it in his joy. + The youth who daily farther from the East + Must travel, still is Nature's priest, + And by the vision splendid + Is on his way attended; + At length the man perceives it die away, + And fade into the light of common day." + + --WORDSWORTH. + + "It is but little we can do for each other. We accompany the youth + with sympathy and manifold old sayings of the wise to the gate of + the arena, but it is certain that not by strength of ours, or by + the old sayings, but only on strength of his own, unknown to us or + to any, he must stand or fall."--EMERSON. + + +"Does it look well, father?" + +"What, child?" + +"Does this look well?" + +William Douglas stopped playing for a moment, and turned his head toward +the speaker, who, standing on a ladder, bent herself to one side, in +order that he might see the wreath of evergreen, studded with cones, +which she had hung on the wall over one of the small arched windows. + +"It is too compact, Anne, too heavy. There should be sprays falling from +it here and there, like a real vine. The greenery, dear, should be +either growing naturally upward or twining; large branches standing in +the corners like trees, or climbing vines. Stars, stiff circles, and set +shapes should be avoided. That wreath looks as though it had been planed +by a carpenter." + +"Miss Lois made it." + +"Ah," said William Douglas, something which made you think of a smile, +although no smile was there, passing over his face, "it looks like her +work; it will last a long time. And there will be no need to remove it +for Ash-Wednesday, Anne; there is nothing joyous about it." + +"I did not notice that it was ugly," said the girl, trying in her bent +posture to look at the wreath, and bringing one eye and a portion of +anxious forehead to bear upon it. + +"That is because Miss Lois made it," replied William Douglas, returning +to his music. + +Anne, standing straight again, surveyed the garland in silence. Then she +changed its position once or twice, studying the effect. Her figure, +poised on the round of the ladder, high in the air, was, although +unsupported, firm. With her arms raised above her head in a position +which few women could have endured for more than a moment, she appeared +as unconcerned, and strong, and sure of her footing, as though she had +been standing on the floor. There was vigor about her and elasticity, +combined unexpectedly with the soft curves and dimples of a child. +Viewed from the floor, this was a young Diana, or a Greek maiden, as we +imagine Greek maidens to have been. The rounded arms, visible through +the close sleeves of the dark woollen dress, the finely moulded wrists +below the heavy wreath, the lithe, natural waist, all belonged to a +young goddess. But when Anne Douglas came down from her height, and +turned toward you, the idea vanished. Here was no goddess, no Greek; +only an American girl, with a skin like a peach. Anne Douglas's eyes +were violet-blue, wide open, and frank. She had not yet learned that +there was any reason why she should not look at everything with the calm +directness of childhood. Equally like a child was the unconsciousness of +her mouth, but the full lips were exquisitely curved. Her brown hair was +braided in a heavy knot at the back of her head; but little rings and +roughened curly ends stood up round her forehead and on her temples, as +though defying restraint. This unwritten face, with its direct gaze, so +far neutralized the effect of the Diana-like form that the girl missed +beauty on both sides. The usual ideal of pretty, slender, unformed +maidenhood was not realized, and yet Anne Douglas's face was more like +what is called a baby face than that of any other girl on the island. +The adjective generally applied to her was "big." This big, soft-cheeked +girl now stood irresolutely looking at the condemned wreath. + +The sun was setting, and poured a flood of clear yellow light through +the little west windows; the man at the organ was playing a sober, +steadfast German choral, without exultation, yet full of a resolute +purpose which defied even death and the grave. Out through the eastern +windows stretched the frozen straits, the snow-covered islands, and +below rang out the bugle. "It will be dark in a few moments," said Anne +to herself; "I will do it." + +She moved the ladder across to the chancel, mounted to its top again, +and placed the wreath directly over the altar, connecting it deftly with +the numerous long lines of delicate wreathing woven in thread-like green +lace-work which hung there, waiting for their key-stone--a place of +honor which the condemned wreath was to fill. It now crowned the whole. +The little house of God was but an upper chamber, roughly finished and +barren; its only treasure was a small organ, a gift from a father whose +daughter, a stranger from the South, had died upon the island, +requesting that her memorial might be music rather than a cold stone. +William Douglas had superintended the unpacking and placing of this +gift, and loved it almost as though it had been his own child. Indeed, +it was a child, a musical child--one who comprehended his varying moods +when no one else did, not even Anne. + +"It makes no difference now," said Anne, aloud, carrying the ladder +toward the door; "it is done and ended. Here is the ladder, Jones, and +please keep up the fires all night, unless you wish to see us frozen +stiff to-morrow." + +A man in common soldier's uniform touched his cap and took the ladder. +Anne went back. "Now for one final look, father," she said, "and then +we must go home; the children will be waiting." + +William Douglas played a few more soft strains, and turned round. "Well, +child," he said, stroking his thin gray beard with an irresolute motion +habitual with him, and looking at the small perspective of the chapel +with critical gaze, "so you have put Miss Lois's wreath up there?" + +"Yes; it is the only thing she had time to make, and she took so much +pains with it I could not bear to have her disappointed. It will not be +much noticed." + +"Yes, it will." + +"I am sorry, then; but it can not be moved. And to tell the truth, +father, although I suppose you will laugh at me, _I_ think it looks +well." + +"It looks better than anything else in the room, and crowns the whole," +said Douglas, rising and standing by his daughter's side. "It was a +stroke of genius to place it there, Anne." + +"Was it?" said the girl, her face flushing with pleasure. "But I was +thinking only of Miss Lois." + +"I am afraid you were," said Douglas, with his shadowy smile. + +The rough walls and beams of the chapel were decorated with fine +spray-like lines of evergreen, all pointing toward the chancel; there +was not a solid spot upon which the eye could rest, no upright branches +in the corners, no massed bunches over the windows, no stars of +Bethlehem, anchors, or nondescript Greek letters; the whole chapel was +simply outlined in light feathery lines of green, which reached the +chancel, entered it, played about its walls, and finally came together +under the one massive wreath whose even circle and thick foliage held +them all firmly in place, and ended their wanderings in a restful quiet +strength. While the two stood gazing, the lemon-colored light faded, and +almost immediately it was night; the red glow shining out under the +doors of the large stoves alone illuminated the room, which grew into a +shadowy place, the aromatic fragrance of the evergreens filling the warm +air pungently, more perceptible, as fragrance always is, in the +darkness. William Douglas turned to the organ again, and began playing +the music of an old vigil. + +"The bugle sounded long ago, father," said Anne. "It is quite dark now, +and very cold; I know by the crackling noise the men's feet make across +the parade-ground." + +But the father played on. "Come here, daughter," he said; "listen to +this waiting, watching, praying music. Do you not see the old monks in +the cloisters telling the hours through the long night, waiting for the +dawn, the dawn of Christmas? Look round you; see this dim chapel, the +air filled with fragrance like incense. These far-off chords, now; might +they not be the angels, singing over the parapet of heaven?" + +Anne stood by her father's side, and listened. "Yes," she said, "I can +imagine it. And yet I could imagine it a great deal better if I did not +know where every bench was, and every darn in the chancel carpet, and +every mended pane in the windows. I am sorry I am so dull, father." + +"Not dull, but unawakened." + +"And when shall I waken?" pursued the girl, accustomed to carrying on +long conversations with this dreaming father, whom she loved devotedly. + +"God knows! May He be with you at your wakening!" + +"I would rather have you, father; that is, if it is not wicked to say +so. But I am very often wicked, I think," she added, remorsefully. + +William Douglas smiled, closed the organ, and, throwing his arm round +his tall young daughter, walked with her down the aisle toward the door. + +"But you have forgotten your cloak," said Anne, running back to get it. +She clasped it carefully round his throat, drew the peaked hood over his +head, and fastened it with straps of deer's hide. Her own fur cloak and +cap were already on, and thus enveloped, the two descended the dark +stairs, crossed the inner parade-ground, passed under the iron arch, and +made their way down the long sloping path, cut in the cliff-side, which +led from the little fort on the height to the village below. The +thermometer outside the commandant's door showed a temperature several +degrees below zero; the dry old snow that covered the ground was +hardened into ice on the top, so that boys walked on its crust above the +fences. Overhead the stars glittered keenly, like the sharp edges of +Damascus blades, and the white expanse of the ice-fields below gave out +a strange pallid light which was neither like that of sun nor of moon, +of dawn nor of twilight. The little village showed but few signs of life +as they turned into its main street; the piers were sheets of ice. + +Nothing wintered there; the summer fleets were laid up in the rivers +farther south, where the large towns stood on the lower lakes. The +shutters of the few shops had been tightly closed at sunset, when all +the inhabited houses were tightly closed also; inside there were +curtains, sometimes a double set, woollen cloth, blankets, or skins, +according to the wealth of the occupants. Thus housed, with great fires +burning in their dark stoves, and one small lamp, the store-keepers +waited for custom until nine o'clock, after which time hardly any one +stirred abroad, unless it was some warm-blooded youth, who defied the +elements with the only power which can make us forget them. + +At times, early in the evening, the door of one of these shops opened, +and a figure entered through a narrow crack; for no islander opened a +door widely--it was giving too much advantage to the foe of his life, +the weather. This figure, enveloped in furs or a blanket, came toward +the stove and warmed its hands with deliberation, the merchant meanwhile +remaining calmly seated; then, after some moments, it threw back its +hood, and disclosed the face of perhaps an Indian, perhaps a French +fisherman, perhaps an Irish soldier from the barracks. The customer now +mentioned his errand, and the merchant, rising in his turn, stretched +himself like a shaggy dog loath to leave the fire, took his little lamp, +and prepared to go in quest of the article desired, which lay, perhaps, +beyond the circle of heat, somewhere in the outer darkness of the dim +interior. It was an understood rule that no one should ask for nails or +any kind of ironware in the evening: it was labor enough for the +merchant to find and handle his lighter goods when the cold was so +intense. There was not much bargaining in the winter; people kept their +breath in their mouths. The merchants could have made money if they had +had more customers or more energy; as it was, however, the small +population and the cold kept them lethargically honest. + +Anne and her father turned northward. The southern half of the little +village had two streets, one behind the other, and both were clogged and +overshadowed by the irregular old buildings of the once-powerful fur +company. These ancient frames, empty and desolate, rose above the low +cottages of the islanders, sometimes three and four stories in height, +with the old pulleys and hoisting apparatus still in place under their +peaked roofs, like gallows ready for the old traders to hang themselves +upon, if they came back and saw the degeneracy of the furless times. No +one used these warehouses now, no one propped them up, no one pulled +them down; there they stood, closed and empty, their owners being but so +many discouraged bones under the sod; for the Company had dissolved to +the four winds of heaven, leaving only far-off doubtful and quarrelling +heirs. The little island could not have the buildings; neither could it +pull them down. They were dogs in the manger, therefore, if the people +had looked upon them with progressive American eyes; but they did not. +They were not progressive; they were hardly American. If they had any +glory, it was of that very past, the days when those buildings were full +of life. There was scarcely a family on the island that did not cherish +its tradition of the merry fur-trading times, when "grandfather" was a +factor, a superintendent, a clerk, a hunter; even a voyageur had his +importance, now that there were no more voyageurs. Those were gay days, +they said; they should never look upon their like again: unless, indeed, +the past should come back--a possibility which did not seem so unlikely +on the island as it does elsewhere, since the people were plainly +retrograding, and who knows but that they might some time even catch up +with the past? + +North of the piers there was only one street, which ran along the +water's edge. On the land side first came the fort garden, where +successive companies of soldiers had vainly fought the climate in an +agricultural way, redcoats of England and blue-coats of the United +States, with much the same results of partially ripened vegetables, +nipped fruits, and pallid flowers; for the island summer was beautiful, +but too short for lusciousness. Hardy plants grew well, but there was +always a persistent preference for those that were not hardy--like +delicate beauties who are loved and cherished tenderly, while the strong +brown maids go by unnoticed. The officers' wives made catsup of the +green tomatoes, and loved their weakling flowers for far-away home's +sake; and as the Indians brought in canoe-loads of fine full-jacketed +potatoes from their little farms on the mainland, the officers could +afford to let the soldiers do fancy-work in the government fields if it +pleased the exiled ladies. Beyond the army garden was the old Agency +house. The Agency itself had long been removed farther westward, +following the retreating, dwindling tribes of the red men farther toward +the Rocky Mountains; but the old house remained. On its door a brass +plate was still fixed, bearing the words, "United States Agency." But it +was now the home of a plain, unimportant citizen, William Douglas. + +Anne ran up the path toward the front door, thinking of the children and +the supper. She climbed the uneven snow-covered steps, turned the latch, +and entered the dark hall. There was a line of light under the left-hand +door, and taking off her fur-lined overshoes, she went in. The room was +large; its three windows were protected by shutters, and thick curtains +of red hue, faded but cheery; a great fire of logs was burning on the +hearth, lighting up every corner with its flame and glow, and making the +poor furniture splendid. In its radiance the curtains were damask, the +old carpet a Persian-hued luxury, and the preparations for cooking an +_Arabian Nights'_ display. Three little boys ran forward to meet their +sister; a girl who was basking in the glow of the flame looked up +languidly. They were odd children, with black eyes, coal-black hair, +dark skins, and bold eagle outlines. The eldest, the girl, was small--a +strange little creature, with braids of black hair hanging down behind +almost to her ankles, half-closed black eyes, little hands and feet, a +low soft voice, and the grace of a young panther. The boys were larger, +handsome little fellows of wild aspect. In fact, all four were of mixed +blood, their mother having been a beautiful French quarter-breed, and +their father--William Douglas. + +"Annet, Annet, can't we have fried potatoes for supper, and bacon?" + +"Annet, Annet, can't we have coffee?" + +"It is a biting night, isn't it?" said Tita, coming to her sister's side +and stroking her cold hands gently. "I really think, Annet, that you +ought to have something substantielle. You see, _I_ think of you; +whereas those howling piggish bears think only of themselves." + +All this she delivered in a soft, even voice, while Anne removed the +remainder of her wrappings. + +"I have thought of something better still," said William Douglas's +eldest daughter, kissing her little sister fondly, and then stepping out +of the last covering, and lifting the heap from the floor--"batter +cakes!" + +The boys gave a shout of delight, and danced up and down on the hearth; +Tita went back to her corner and sat down, clasping her little brown +hands round her ankles, like the embalmed monkeys of the Nile. Her +corner was made by an old secretary and the side of the great chimney; +this space she had lined and carpeted with furs, and here she sat curled +up with her book or her bead-work all through the long winter, refusing +to leave the house unless absolutely ordered out by Anne, who filled the +place of mother to these motherless little ones. Tita was well satisfied +with the prospect of batter cakes; she would probably eat two if Anne +browned them well, and they were light and tender. But as for those +boys, those wolf-dogs, those beasts, they would probably swallow dozens. +"If you come any nearer, Louis, I shall lay open the side of your +head," she announced, gently, as the boys danced too near her hermitage; +they, accustomed alike to her decisions and her words, danced farther +away without any discussion of the subject. Tita was an excellent +playmate sometimes; her little moccasined feet, and long braids +streaming behind, formed the most exciting feature of their summer +races; her blue cloth skirt up in the tops of the tallest trees, the +provocative element in their summer climbing. She was a pallid little +creature, while they were brown; small, while they were large; but she +domineered over them like a king, and wreaked a whole vocabulary of +roughest fisherman's terms upon them when they displeased her. One awful +vengeance she reserved as a last resort: when they had been unbearably +troublesome she stole into their room at night in her little white +night-gown, with all her long thick black hair loose, combed over her +face, and hanging down round her nearly to her feet. This was a ghostly +visitation which the boys could not endure, for she left a lamp in the +hall outside, so that they could dimly see her, and then she stood and +swayed toward them slowly, backward and forward, without a sound, all +the time coming nearer and nearer, until they shrieked aloud in terror, +and Anne, hurrying to the rescue, found only three frightened little +fellows cowering together in their broad bed, and the hairy ghost gone. + +"How can you do such things, Tita?" she said. + +"It is the only way by which I can keep the little devils in order," +replied Tita. + +"Do not use such words, dear." + +"Mother did," said the younger sister, in her soft calm voice. + +This was true, and Tita knew that Anne never impugned the memory of that +mother. + +"Who volunteers to help?" said Anne, lighting a candle in an iron +candlestick, and opening a door. + +"I," said Louis. + +"I," said Gabriel. + +"Me too," said little André. + +They followed her, hopping along together, with arms interlinked, while +her candle shed a light on the bare walls and floors of the rooms +through which they passed, a series of little apartments, empty and +desolate, at the end of which was the kitchen, inhabited in the daytime +by an Irishwoman, a soldier's wife, who came in the morning before +breakfast, and went home at dusk, the only servant William Douglas's +fast-thinning purse could afford. Anne might have had her kitchen nearer +what Miss Lois called the "keeping-room"; any one of the five in the +series would have answered the purpose as well as the one she had +chosen. But she had a dream of furnishing them all some day according to +a plan of her own, and it would have troubled her greatly to have used +her proposed china closet, pantry, store-room, preserve closet, or +fruit-room for culinary purposes. How often had she gone over the whole +in her mind, settling the position of every shelf, and deliberating over +the pattern of the cups! The Irishwoman had left some gleams of fire on +the hearth, and the boys immediately set themselves to work burying +potatoes in the ashes, with the hot hearth-stone beneath. "For of course +you are going to cook in the sitting-room, Annet," they said. "We made +all ready for you there; and, besides, this fire is out." + +"You could easily have kept it up," said the sister, smiling. "However, +as it is Christmas-eve, I will let you have your way." + +The boys alertly loaded themselves with the articles she gave them, and +went hopping back into the sitting-room. They scorned to walk on +Christmas-eve; the thing was to hop, and yet carry every dish steadily. +They arranged the table, still in a sort of dancing step, and sang +together in their shrill childish voices a tune of their own, without +any words but "Ho! ho! ho!" Tita, in her corner, kept watch over the +proceedings, and inhaled the aroma of the coffee with indolent +anticipation. The tin pot stood on the hearth near her, surrounded by +coals; it was a battered old coffee-pot, grimy as a camp-kettle, but +dear to all the household, and their principal comforter when the +weather was bitter, provisions scarce, or the boys especially +troublesome. For the boys said they did not enjoy being especially +troublesome; they could not help it any more than they could help having +the measles or the whooping-cough. They needed coffee, therefore, for +the conflict, when they felt it coming on, as much as any of the +household. + +Poor Anne's cooking utensils were few and old; it was hard to make +batter cakes over an open fire without the proper hanging griddle. But +she attempted it, nevertheless, and at length, with scarlet cheeks, +placed a plateful of them, brown, light, and smoking, upon the table. +"Now, Louis, run out for the potatoes; and, Tita, call father." + +This one thing Tita would do; she aspired to be her father's favorite. +She went out with her noiseless step, and presently returned leading in +the tall, bent, gray-haired father, her small brown hand holding his +tightly, her dark eyes fixed upon him with a persistent steadiness, as +if determined to isolate all his attention upon herself. William Douglas +was never thoroughly at ease with his youngest daughter; she had this +habit of watching him silently, which made him uncomfortable. The boys +he understood, and made allowances for their wildness; but this girl, +with her soft still ways, perplexed and troubled him. She seemed to +embody, as it were, his own mistakes, and he never looked at her little +pale face and diminutive figure without a vague feeling that she was a +spirit dwelling on earth in elfish form, with a half-developed +contradictory nature, to remind him of his past weakness. Standing at +the head of the table, tall and straight, with her nobly poised head and +clear Saxon eyes, his other daughter awaited him, and met his gaze with +a bright smile; he always came back to her with a sense of comfort. But +Tita jealously brought his attention to herself again by pulling his +hand, and leading him to his chair, taking her own place close beside +him. He was a tall man, and her head did not reach his elbow, but she +ruled him. The father now asked a blessing; he always hesitated on his +way through it, once or twice, as though he had forgotten what to say, +but took up the thread again after an instant's pause, and went on. +When he came to the end, and said "Amen," he always sat down with a +relieved air. If you had asked him what he had said, he could not have +told you unless you started him at the beginning, when the old formula +would have rolled off his lips in the same vague, mechanical way. The +meal proceeded in comparative quiet; the boys no longer hummed and +shuffled their feet; they were engaged with the cakes. Tita refrained +from remarks save once, when Gabriel having dropped buttered crumbs upon +her dress, she succinctly threatened him with dismemberment. Douglas +gazed at her helplessly, and sighed. + +"She will be a woman soon," he said to his elder daughter, when, an hour +or two later, she joined him in his own apartment, and drew from its +hiding-place her large sewing-basket, filled with Christmas presents. + +"Oh no, father, she is but a child," answered Anne, cheerfully. "As she +grows older these little faults will vanish." + +"How old is she?" said Douglas. + +"Just thirteen." + +The father played a bar of Mendelssohn noiselessly on the arm of his +chair with his long thin fingers; he was thinking that he had married +Tita's mother when she was hardly three years older. Anne was absorbed +in her presents. + +"See, father, will not this be nice for André? And this for Gabriel? And +I have made such a pretty doll for Tita." + +"Will she care for it, dear?" + +"Of course she will. Did I not play with my own dear doll until I was +fourteen years old--yes, almost fifteen?" said the girl, with a little +laugh and blush. + +"And you are now--" + +"I am over sixteen." + +"A great age," said Douglas, smoothing her thick brown hair fondly, as +she sat near him, bending over her sewing. + +The younger children were asleep up stairs in two old bedrooms with +rattling dormer windows, and the father and elder daughter were in a +small room opposite the sitting-room, called the study, although nothing +was ever studied there, save the dreams of his own life, by the vague, +irresolute, imaginative soul that dwelt therein, in a thin body of its +own, much the worse for wear. William Douglas was a New England man of +the brooding type, sent by force of circumstances into the ranks of +United States army surgeons. He had married Anne's mother, who had +passionately loved him, against the wishes of her family, and had +brought the disinherited young bride out to this far Western island, +where she had died, happy to the last--one of those rare natures to whom +love is all in all, and the whole world well lost for its dear and holy +sake. Grief over her death brought out all at once the latent doubts, +hesitations, and strange perplexities of William Douglas's peculiar +mind--perplexities which might have lain dormant in a happier life. He +resigned his position as army surgeon, and refused even practice in the +village. Medical science was not exact, he said; there was much pretense +and presumption in it; he would no longer countenance deception, or play +a part. He was then made postmaster, and dealt out letters through some +seasons, until at last his mistakes roused the attention of the new +officers at the fort; for the villagers, good, easy-tempered people, +would never have complained of such trifles as a forgotten mail-bag or +two under the counter. Superseded, he then attended nominally to the +highways; but as the military authorities had for years done all that +was to be done on the smooth roads, three in number, including the steep +fort hill, the position was a sinecure, and the superintendent took long +walks across the island, studying the flora of the Northern woods, +watching the birds, noticing the clouds and the winds, staying out late +to experiment with the flash of the two light-houses from their +different distances, and then coming home to his lonely house, where the +baby Anne was tenderly cared for by Miss Lois Hinsdale, who +superintended the nurse all day, watched her charge to bed, and then +came over early in the morning before she woke. Miss Lois adored the +baby; and she watched the lonely father from a distance, imagining all +his sadness. It was the poetry of her life. Who, therefore, can picture +her feelings when, at the end of three years, it was suddenly brought to +her knowledge that Douglas was soon to marry again, and that his choice +was Angélique Lafontaine, a French quarter-breed girl! + +Angélique was amiable, and good in her way; she was also very beautiful. +But Miss Lois could have borne it better if she had been homely. The New +England woman wept bitter, bitter tears that night. A god had come down +and showed himself flesh; an ideal was shattered. How long had she dwelt +upon the beautiful love of Dr. Douglas and his young wife, taking it as +a perfect example of rare, sweet happiness which she herself had missed, +of which she herself was not worthy! How many times had she gone up to +the little burial-ground on the height, and laid flowers from her garden +on the mound, whose stone bore only the inscription, "Alida, wife of +William Douglas, aged twenty-two years." Miss Lois had wished to have a +text engraved under this brief line, and a date, but Dr. Douglas gently +refused a text, and regarding a date he said: "Time is nothing. Those +who love her will remember the date, and strangers need not know. But I +should like the chance visitor to note that she was only twenty-two, +and, as he stands there, think of her with kindly regret, as we all +think of the early dead, though why, Miss Lois, why, I can not tell, +since in going hence early surely the dead lose nothing, for God would +not allow any injustice, I think--yes, I have about decided in my own +mind that He does not allow it." + +Miss Lois, startled, looked at him questioningly. He was then a man of +thirty-four, tall, slight, still noticeable for the peculiar refined +delicacy of face and manner which had first won the interest of sweet, +impulsive Alida Clanssen. + +"I trust, doctor, that you accept the doctrines of Holy Scripture on all +such subjects," said Miss Lois. Then she felt immediately that she +should have said "of the Church"; for she was a comparatively new +Episcopalian, having been trained a New England Presbyterian of the +severest hue. + +Dr. Douglas came back to practical life again in the troubled gaze of +the New England woman's eyes. "Miss Lois," he said, turning the subject, +"Alida loved and trusted you; will you sometimes think of her little +daughter?" + +And then Miss Lois, the quick tears coming, forgot all about orthodoxy, +gladly promised to watch over the baby, and kept her word. But now her +life was shaken, and all her romantic beliefs disturbed and shattered, +by this overwhelming intelligence. She was wildly, furiously jealous, +wildly, furiously angry--jealous for Alida's sake, for the baby's, for +her own. It is easy to be humble when a greater is preferred; but when +an inferior is lifted high above our heads, how can we bear it? And Miss +Lois was most jealous of all for Douglas himself--that such a man should +so stoop. She hardly knew herself that night as she harshly pulled down +the curtains, pushed a stool half across the room, slammed the door, and +purposely knocked over the fire-irons. Lois Hinsdale had never since her +birth given way to rage before (nor known the solace of it), and she was +now forty-one years old. All her life afterward she remembered that +night as something akin to a witch's revel on the Brocken, a horrible +wild reign of passion which she trembled to recall, and for which she +did penance many times in tears. "It shows the devil there is in us +all," she said to herself, and she never passed the fire-irons for a +long time afterward without an unpleasant consciousness. + +The limited circle of island society suggested that Miss Lois had been +hunting the loon with a hand-net--a Northern way of phrasing the wearing +of the willow; but if the New England woman loved William Douglas, she +was not conscious of it, but merged the feeling in her love for his +child, and for the memory of Alida. True, she was seven years older than +he was: women of forty-one can answer whether that makes any difference. + +On a brilliant, sparkling, clear June morning William Douglas went down +to the little Roman Catholic church and married the French girl. As he +had resigned his position in the army some time before, and as there was +a new set of officers at the fort, his marriage made little impression +there save on the mind of the chaplain, who had loved him well when he +was surgeon of the post, and had played many a game of chess with him. +The whole French population of the island, however, came to the +marriage. That was expected. But what was not expected was the presence +there of Miss Lois Hinsdale, sitting severely rigid in the first pew, +accompanied by the doctor's child--a healthy, blue-eyed little girl, who +kissed her new mamma obediently, and thought her very sweet and +pretty--a belief which remained with her always, the careless, indolent, +easy-tempered, beautiful young second wife having died when her +step-daughter was eleven years old, leaving four little ones, who, +according to a common freak of nature, were more Indian than their +mother. The Douglas family grew poorer every year; but as every one was +poor there, poverty was respectable; and as all poverty is comparative, +they always esteemed themselves comfortable. For they had the old Agency +for a home, and it was in some respects the most dignified residence on +the island; and they had the remains of the furniture which the young +surgeon had brought with him from the East when his Alida was a bride, +and that was better than most of the furniture in use in the village. +The little stone fort on the height was, of course, the castle of the +town, and its commandant by courtesy the leader of society; but the +infantry officers who succeeded each other at this distant Northern post +brought little with them, camping out, as it were, in their +low-ceilinged quarters, knowing that another season might see them far +away. The Agency, therefore, preserved an air of dignity still, although +its roof leaked, its shutters rattled, although its plastering was gone +here and there, and its floors were uneven and decayed. Two of its +massive outside chimneys, clamped to the sides of the house, were half +down, looking like broken columns, monuments of the past; but there were +a number left. The Agency originally had bristled with chimneys, which +gave, on a small scale, a castellated air to its rambling outline. + +Dr. Douglas's study was old, crowded, and comfortable; that is, +comfortable to those who have consciousness in their finger-ends, and no +uncertainty as to their feet; the great army of blunderers and +stumblers, the handle-everything, knock-over-everything people, who cut +a broad swath through the smaller furniture of a room whenever they +move, would have been troubled and troublesome there. The boys were +never admitted; but Tita, who stepped like a little cat, and Anne, who +had a deft direct aim in all her motions, were often present. The +comfort of the place was due to Anne; she shook out and arranged the +curtains, darned the old carpet, re-covered the lounge, polished the +andirons, and did all without disturbing the birds' wings, the shells, +the arrow-heads, the skins, dried plants, wampum, nets, bits of rock, +half-finished drawings, maps, books, and papers, which were scattered +about, or suspended from the walls. William Douglas, knowing something +of everything, was exact in nothing: now he stuffed birds, now he read +Greek, now he botanized, now he played on the flute, now he went about +in all weathers chipping the rocks with ardent zeal, now he smoked in +his room all day without a word or a look for anybody. He sketched well, +but seldom finished a picture; he went out hunting when the larder was +empty, and forgot what he went for; he had a delicate mechanical skill, +and made some curious bits of intricate work, but he never mended the +hinges of the shutters, or repaired a single article which was in daily +use in his household. + +[Illustration: "THE GIRL PAUSED AND REFLECTED A MOMENT."] + +By the careful attention of Anne he was present in the fort chapel every +Sunday morning, and, once there, he played the organ with delight, and +brought exquisite harmonies from its little pipes; but Anne stood there +beside him all the time, found the places, and kept him down to the +work, borrowing his watch beforehand in order to touch him when the +voluntary was too long, or the chords between the hymn verses too +beautiful and intricate. Those were the days when the old buckram-backed +rhymed versions of the psalms were steadfastly given out at every +service, and Anne's rich voice sang, with earnest fervor, words like +these: + + "His liberal favors he extends, + To some he gives, to others lends; + Yet when his charity impairs, + He saves by prudence in affairs," + +while her father followed them with harmony fit for angels. Douglas +taught his daughter music in the best sense of the phrase; she read +notes accurately, and knew nothing of inferior composers, the only +change from the higher courts of melody being some of the old French +chansons of the voyageurs, which still lingered on the island, echoes of +the past. She could not touch the ivory keys with any skill, her hands +were too much busied with other work; but she practiced her singing +lessons as she went about the house--music which would have seemed to +the world of New York as old-fashioned as Chaucer. + +The fire of logs blazed on the hearth, the father sat looking at his +daughter, who was sewing swiftly, her thoughts fixed upon her work. The +clock struck eleven. + +"It is late, Anne." + +"Yes, father, but I must finish. I have so little time during the day." + +"My good child," said Douglas, slowly and fondly. + +Anne looked up; his eyes were dim with tears. + +"I have done nothing for you, dear," he said, as she dropped her work +and knelt by his side. "I have kept you selfishly with me here, and made +you a slave to those children." + +"My own brothers and my own little sister, father." + +"Do you feel so, Anne? Then may God bless you for it! But I should not +have kept you here." + +"This is our home, papa." + +"A poor one." + +"Is it? It never seemed so to me." + +"That is because you have known nothing better." + +"But I like it, papa, just as it is. I have always been happy here." + +"Really happy, Anne?" + +The girl paused, and reflected a moment. "Yes," she said, looking into +the depths of the fire, with a smile, "I am happy all the time. I am +never anything but happy." + +William Douglas looked at her. The fire-light shone on her face; she +turned her clear eyes toward him. + +"Then you do not mind the children? They are not a burdensome weight +upon you?" + +"Never, papa; how can you suppose it? I love them dearly, next to you." + +"And will you stand by them, Anne? Note my words: I do not urge it, I +simply ask." + +"Of course I will stand by them, papa. I give a promise of my own +accord. I will never forsake them as long as I can do anything for them, +as long as I live. But why do you speak of it? Have I ever neglected +them or been unkind to them?" said the girl, troubled, and very near +tears. + +"No, dear; you love them better than they or I deserve. I was thinking +of the future, and of a time when,"--he had intended to say, "when I am +no longer with you," but the depth of love and trust in her eyes made +him hesitate, and finish his sentence differently--"a time when they may +give you trouble," he said. + +"They are good boys--that is, they mean no harm, papa. When they are +older they will study more." + +"Will they?" + +"Certainly," said Anne, with confidence. "I did. And as for Tita, you +yourself must see, papa, what a remarkable child she is." + +Douglas shaded his face with his hand. The uneasy sense of trouble which +always stirred within him when he thought of his second daughter was +rising to the surface now like a veiled, formless shape. "The sins of +the fathers," he thought, and sighed heavily. + +Anne threw her arms round his neck, and begged him to look at her. +"Papa, speak to me, please. What is it that troubles you so?" + +"Stand by little Tita, child, no matter what she does. Do not expect too +much of her, but remember always her--her Indian blood," said the +troubled father, in a low voice. + +A flush crossed Anne's face. The cross of mixed blood in the younger +children was never alluded to in the family circle or among their +outside friends. In truth, there had been many such mixtures on the +island in the old times, although comparatively few in the modern days +to which William Douglas's second marriage belonged. + +"Tita is French," said Anne, speaking rapidly, almost angrily. + +"She is more French than Indian. Still--one never knows." Then, after a +pause: "I have been a slothful father, Anne, and feel myself cowardly +also in thus shifting upon your shoulders my own responsibilities. +Still, what can I do? I can not re-live my life; and even if I could, +perhaps I might do the same again. I do not know--I do not know. We are +as we are, and tendencies dating generations back come out in us, and +confuse our actions." + +He spoke dreamily. His eyes were assuming that vague look with which his +children were familiar, and which betokened that his mind was far away. + +"You could not do anything which was not right, father," said Anne. + +She was standing by his side now, and in her young strength might have +been his champion against the whole world. The fire-light shining out +showed a prematurely old man, whose thin form, bent drooping shoulders, +and purposeless face were but Time's emphasis upon the slender, refined, +dreamy youth, who, entering the domain of doubt with honest negations +and a definite desire, still wandered there, lost to the world, having +forgotten his first object, and loving the soft haze now for itself +alone. + +Anne received no answer: her father's mind had passed away from her. +After waiting a few moments in silence she saw that he was lost in one +of his reveries, and sitting down again she took up her work and went on +sewing with rapid stitches. Poor Anne and her poor presents! How coarse +the little white shirts for Louis and André! how rough the jacket for +Gabriel! How forlorn the doll! How awkwardly fashioned the small cloth +slippers for Tita! The elder sister was obliged to make her Christmas +gifts with her own hands; she had no money to spend for such +superfluities. The poor doll had a cloth face, with features painted on +a flat surface, and a painful want of profile. A little before twelve +the last stitch was taken with happy content. + +"Papa, it is nearly midnight; do not sit up very late," said the +daughter, bending to kiss the father's bent, brooding brow. William +Douglas's mind came back for an instant, and looked out through his +clouded eyes upon his favorite child. He kissed her, gave her his usual +blessing, "May God help the soul He has created!" and then, almost +before she had closed the door, he was far away again on one of those +long journeyings which he took silently, only his following guardian +angel knew whither. Anne went across the hall and entered the +sitting-room; the fire was low, but she stirred the embers, and by their +light filled the four stockings hanging near the chimney-piece. First +she put in little round cakes wrapped in papers; then home-made candies, +not thoroughly successful in outline, but well-flavored and sweet; next +gingerbread elephants and camels, and an attempt at a fairy; lastly the +contents of her work-basket, which gave her much satisfaction as she +inspected them for the last time. Throwing a great knot, which would +burn slowly all night, upon the bed of dying coals, she lighted a candle +and went up to her own room. + +As soon as she had disappeared, a door opened softly above, and a small +figure stole out into the dark hall. After listening a moment, this +little figure went silently down the stairs, paused at the line of light +underneath the closed study door, listened again, and then, convinced +that all was safe, went into the sitting-room, took down the stockings +one by one, and deliberately inspected all their contents, sitting on a +low stool before the fire. First came the stockings of the boys; each +parcel was unrolled, down to the last gingerbread camel, and as deftly +enwrapped again by the skillful little fingers. During this examination +there was not so much an expression of interest as of jealous scrutiny. +But when the turn of her own stocking came, the small face showed the +most profound, almost weazened, solicitude. Package after package was +swiftly opened, and its contents spread upon the mat beside her. The +doll was cast aside with contempt, the slippers examined and tried on +with critical care, and then when the candy and cake appeared and +nothing else, the eyes snapped with anger. + +The little brown hand felt down to the toe of the stocking: no, there +was nothing more. "It is my opinion," said Tita, in her French island +_patois_, half aloud, "that Annet is one stupid beast." + +She then replaced everything, hung the stockings on their nails, and +stole back to her own room; here, by the light of a secreted candle-end, +she manufactured the following epistle, with heavy labor of brains and +hand: "Cher papa,--I hav dreemed that Sant Klos has hare-ribbans in his +pak. Will you ask him for sum for your little Tita?" This not seeming +sufficiently expressive, she inserted "trez affecsionay" before "Tita," +and then, folding the epistle, she went softly down the stairs again, +and stealing round in the darkness through several unused rooms, she +entered her father's bedroom, which communicated with the study, and by +sense of feeling pinned the paper carefully round his large pipe, which +lay in its usual place on the table. For William Douglas always began +smoking as soon as he rose, in this way nullifying, as it were, the +fresh, vivifying effect of the morning, which smote painfully upon his +eyes and mind alike; in the afternoon and evening he did not smoke so +steadily, the falling shadows supplying of themselves the atmosphere he +loved. Having accomplished her little manoeuvre, Tita went back up stairs +to her own room like a small white ghost, and fell asleep with the +satisfaction of a successful diplomatist. + +In the mean time Anne was brushing her brown hair, and thoughtfully +going over in her own mind the morrow's dinner. Her room was a bare and +comfortless place; there was but a small fire on the hearth, and no +curtains over the windows; it took so much care and wood to keep the +children's rooms warm that she neglected her own, and as for the +furniture, she had removed it piece by piece, exchanging it for +broken-backed worn-out articles from all parts of the house. One leg of +the bedstead was gone, and its place supplied by a box which the +old-fashioned valance only half concealed; the looking-glass was +cracked, and distorted her image; the chairs were in hospital and out of +service, the young mistress respecting their injuries, and using as her +own seat an old wooden stool which stood near the hearth. Upon this she +was now seated, the rippling waves of her thick hair flowing over her +shoulders. Having at last faithfully rehearsed the Christmas dinner in +all its points, she drew a long breath of relief, rose, extinguished her +light, and going over to the window, stood there for a moment looking +out. The moonlight came gleaming in and touched her with silver, her +pure youthful face and girlish form draped in white. "May God bless my +dear father," she prayed, silently, looking up to the thick studded +stars; "and my dear mother too, wherever she is to-night, in one of +those far bright worlds, perhaps." It will be seen from this prayer that +the boundaries of Anne Douglas's faith were wide enough to include even +the unknown. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + "Heap on more wood! the wind is chill; + But let it whistle as it will, + We'll keep our Christmas merry still. + The damsel donned her kirtle sheen; + The hall was dressed with holly green; + Forth to the wood did merry-men go, + To gather in the mistletoe."--WALTER SCOTT. + + +"Can you make out what the child means?" said Douglas, as his elder +daughter entered the study early on Christmas morning to renew the fire +and set the apartment in order for the day. As he spoke he held Tita's +epistle hopelessly before him, and scanned the zig-zag lines. + +"She wants some ribbons for her hair," said Anne, making out the words +over his shoulder. "Poor little thing! she is so proud of her hair, and +all the other girls have bright ribbons. But I can not make ribbons," +she added, regretfully, as though she found herself wanting in a needful +accomplishment. "Think of her faith in Santa Klaus, old as she is, and +her writing to ask him! But there is ribbon in the house, after all," +she added, suddenly, her face brightening. "Miss Lois gave me some last +month; I had forgotten it. That will be the very thing for Tita; she has +not even seen it." + +(But has she not, thou unsuspicious elder sister?) + +"Do not rob yourself, child," said the father, wearily casting his eyes +over the slip of paper again. "What spelling! The English is bad, but +the French worse." + +"That is because she has no French teacher, papa; and you know I do not +allow her to speak the island _patois_, lest it should corrupt the +little she knows." + +"But she does speak it; she always talks _patois_ when she is alone with +me." + +"Does she?" said Anne, in astonishment. "I had no idea of that. But +_you_ might correct her, papa." + +"I can never correct her in any way," replied Douglas, gloomily; and +then Anne, seeing that he was on the threshold of one of his dark moods, +lighted his pipe, stirred the fire into a cheery blaze, and went out to +get a cup of coffee for him. For the Irish soldier's wife was already at +work in the kitchen, having been to mass in the cold gray dawn, down on +her two knees on the hard floor, repentant for all her sins, and +refulgently content in the absolution which wiped out the old score (and +left place for a new one). After taking in the coffee, Anne ran up to +her own room, brought down the ribbon, and placed it in Tita's stocking; +she then made up the fire with light-wood, and set about decorating the +walls with wreaths of evergreen as the patter of the little boys' feet +was heard on the old stairway. The breakfast table was noisy that +morning. Tita had inspected her ribbons demurely, and wondered how Santa +Klaus knew her favorite colors so well. Anne glanced toward her father, +and smiled; but the father's face showed doubt, and did not respond. +While they were still at the table the door opened, and a tall figure +entered, muffled in furs. "Miss Lois!" cried the boys. "Hurrah! See our +presents, Miss Lois." They danced round her while she removed her +wrappings, and kept up such a noise that no one could speak. Miss Lois, +viewed without her cloak and hood, was a tall, angular woman, past +middle age, with sharp features, thin brown hair tinged with gray, and +pale blue eyes shielded by spectacles. She kissed Anne first with +evident affection, and afterward the children with business-like +promptitude; then she shook hands with William Douglas. "I wish you a +happy Christmas, doctor," she said. + +"Thank you, Lois," said Douglas, holding her hand in his an instant or +two longer than usual. + +A faint color rose in Miss Lois's cheeks. When she was young she had one +of those exquisitely delicate complexions which seem to belong to some +parts of New England; even now color would rise unexpectedly in her +cheeks, much to her annoyance: she wondered why wrinkles did not keep it +down. But New England knows her own. The creamy skins of the South, with +their brown shadows under the eyes, the rich colors of the West, even +the calm white complexions that are bred and long retained in cities, +all fade before this faint healthy bloom on old New England's cheeks, +like winter-apples. + +Miss Lois inspected the boys' presents with exact attention, and added +some gifts of her own, which filled the room with a more jubilant uproar +than before. Tita, in the mean while, remained quietly seated at the +table, eating her breakfast; she took very small mouthfuls, and never +hurried herself. She said she liked to taste things, and that only +snapping dogs, like the boys, for instance, gulped their food in a mass. + +"I gave her the ribbons; do not say anything," whispered Anne, in Miss +Lois's ear, as she saw the spectacled eyes turning toward Tita's corner. +Miss Lois frowned, and put back into her pocket a small parcel she was +taking out. She had forgiven Dr. Douglas the existence of the boys, but +she never could forgive the existence of Tita. + +Once Anne had asked about Angélique. "I was but a child when she died, +Miss Lois," said she, "so my recollection of her may not be accurate; +but I know that I thought her very beautiful. Does Tita look like her?" + +"Angélique Lafontaine was beautiful--in her way," replied Miss Lois. "I +do not say that I admire that way, mind you." + +"And Tita?" + +"Tita is hideous." + +"Oh, Miss Lois!" + +"She is, child. She is dwarfish, black, and sly." + +"I do not think she is sly," replied Anne, with heat. "And although she +is dark and small, still, sometimes--" + +"That, for your beauty of 'sometimes!'" said Miss Lois, snapping her +fingers. "Give me a girl who is pretty in the morning as well as by +candle-light, one who has a nice, white, well-born, down-East face, and +none of your Western-border mongrelosities!" + +But this last phrase she uttered under her breath. She was ever mindful +of Anne's tender love for her father, and the severity with which she +herself, as a contemporary, had judged him was never revealed to the +child. + +At half past ten the Douglas family were all in their places in the +little fort chapel. It was a bright but bitterly cold day, and the +members of the small congregation came enveloped in shaggy furs like +bears, shedding their skins at the door, where they lay in a pile near +the stove, ready for the return homeward. The military trappings of the +officers brightened the upper benches, the uniforms of the common +soldiers filled the space behind; on the side benches sat the few +Protestants of the village, denominational prejudices unknown or +forgotten in this far-away spot in the wilderness. The chaplain, the +Reverend James Gaston--a man who lived in peace with all the world, with +Père Michaux, the Catholic priest, and William Douglas, the deist--gazed +round upon his flock with a benignant air, which brightened into +affection as Anne's voice took up the song of the angels, singing, amid +the ice and snow of a new world, the strain the shepherds heard on the +plains of Palestine. + +"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will toward men," +sang Anne, with all her young heart. And Miss Lois, sitting with folded +hands, and head held stiffly erect, saw her wreath in the place of honor +over the altar, and was touched first with pride and then with a slight +feeling of awe. She did not believe that one part of the church was more +sacred than another--she could not; but being a High-Church Episcopalian +now, she said to herself that she ought to; she even had appalling +visions of herself, sometimes, going as far as Rome. But the old spirit +of Calvinism was still on the ground, ready for many a wrestling match +yet; and stronger than all else were the old associations connected with +the square white meeting-house of her youth, which held their place +undisturbed down below all these upper currents of a new faith. William +Douglas was also a New-Englander, brought up strictly in the creed of +his fathers; but as Miss Lois's change of creed was owing to a change of +position, as some Northern birds turn their snow-color to a darker hue +when taken away from arctic regions, so his was one purely of mind, +owing to nothing but the processes of thought within him. He had drifted +away from all creeds, save in one article: he believed in a Creator. To +this great Creator's praise, and in worship of Him, he now poured forth +his harmonies, the purest homage he could offer, "unless," he thought, +"Anne is a living homage as she stands here beside me. But no, she is a +soul by herself; she has her own life to live, her own worship to offer; +I must not call her mine. That she is my daughter is naught to me save a +great blessing. I can love her with a human father's love, and thank God +for her affection. But that is all." + +So he played his sweetest music, and Miss Lois fervently prayed, and +made no mistake in the order of her prayers. She liked to have a vocal +part in the service. It was a pleasure to herself to hear her own voice +lifted up, even as a miserable sinner; for at home in the old white +meeting-house all expression had been denied to her, the small outlet +of the Psalms being of little avail to a person who could not sing. This +dumbness stifled her, and she had often said to herself that the men +would never have endured it either if they had not had the +prayer-meetings as a safety-valve. The three boys were penned in at Miss +Lois's side, within reach of her tapping finger. They had decided to +attend service on account of the evergreens and Anne's singing, although +they, as well as Tita, belonged in reality to the flock of Father +Michaux. Anne never interfered with this division of the family; she +considered it the one tie which bound the children to the memory of +their mother; but Miss Lois shook her head over it, and sighed +ominously. The boys were, in fact, three little heathen; but Tita was a +devout Roman Catholic, and observed all the feast and fast days of the +Church, to the not infrequent disturbance of the young mistress of the +household, to whom a feast-day was oftentimes an occasion bristling with +difficulty. But to-day, in honor of Christmas, the usual frugal dinner +had been made a banquet indeed, by the united efforts of Anne and Miss +Lois; and when they took their seats at the table which stood in the +sitting-room, all felt that it held an abundance fit even for the old +fur-trading days, Miss Lois herself having finally succumbed to that +island standard of comparison. After the dinner was over, while they +were sitting round the fire sipping coffee--the ambrosia of the Northern +gods, who find some difficulty in keeping themselves warm--a tap at the +door was heard, and a tall youth entered, a youth who was a vivid +personification of early manhood in its brightest form. The warm air was +stirred by the little rush of cold that came in with him, and the dreamy +and drowsy eyes round the fire awoke as they rested upon him. + +"The world _is_ alive, then, outside, after all," said Miss Lois, +briskly straightening herself in her chair, and taking out her knitting. +"How do you do, Erastus?" + +But her greeting was drowned by the noise of the boys, who had been +asleep together on the rug in a tangled knot, like three young bears, +but now, broadly awake again, were jumping round the new-comer, +displaying their gifts and demanding admiration. Disentangling himself +from them with a skill which showed a long experience in their modes of +twisting, the young man made his way up to Anne, and, with a smile and +bow to Dr. Douglas and Miss Lois, sat down by her side. + +"You were not at church this morning," said the girl, looking at him +rather gravely, but giving him her hand. + +"No, I was not; but a merry Christmas all the same, Annet," answered the +youth, throwing back his golden head with careless grace. At this moment +Tita came forward from her furry corner, where she had been lying with +her head on her arm, half asleep, and seated herself in the red light of +the fire, gazing into the blaze with soft indifference. Her dark woollen +dress was brightened by the ribbons which circled her little waist and +knotted themselves at the ends of the long braids of her hair. She had a +string of yellow beads round her neck, and on her feet the little +slippers which Anne had fashioned for her with so much care. Her brown +hands lay crossed on her lap, and her small but bold-featured profile +looked more delicate than usual, outlined in relief like a little cameo +against the flame. The visitor's eyes rested upon her for a moment, and +then turned back to Anne. "There is to be a dance to-night down in one +of the old warehouses," he said, "and I want you to go." + +"A dance!" cried the boys; "then _we_ are going too. It is Christmas +night, and we know how to dance. See here." And they sprang out into the +centre of the room, and began a figure, not without a certain wild grace +of its own, keeping time to the shrill whistling of Gabriel, who was the +fifer and leader of the band. + +Miss Lois put down her knitting, and disapproved, for the old training +was still strong in her; then she remembered that these were things of +the past, shook her head at herself, sighed, and resumed it again. + +"Of course you will go," said the visitor. + +"I do not know that I _can_ go, Rast," replied Anne, turning toward her +father, as if to see what he thought. + +"Yes, go," said Douglas--"go, Annet." He hardly ever used this name, +which the children had given to their elder sister--a name that was not +the French "Annette," but, like the rest of the island _patois_, a +mispronunciation--"An´net," with the accent on the first syllable. "It +is Christmas night," said Douglas, with a faint interest on his faded +face; "I should like it to be a pleasant recollection for you, Annet." + +The young girl went to him; he kissed her, and then rose to go to his +study; but Tita's eyes held him, and he paused. + +"Will _you_ go, Miss Lois?" said Anne. + +"Oh no, child," replied the old maid, primly, adjusting her spectacles. + +"But you must go, Miss Lois, and dance with me," said Rast, springing up +and seizing her hands. + +"Fie, Erastus! for shame! Let me go," said Miss Lois, as he tried to +draw her to her feet. He still bent over her, but she tapped his cheek +with her knitting-needles, and told him to sit down and behave himself. + +"I won't, unless you promise to go with us," he said. + +"Why should you not go, Lois?" said Douglas, still standing at the door. +"The boys want to go, and some one must be with them to keep them in +order." + +"Why, doctor, imagine me at a dancing party!" said Miss Lois, the +peach-like color rising in her thin cheeks again. + +"It is different here, Lois; everybody goes." + +"Yes; even old Mrs. Kendig," said Tita, softly. + +Miss Lois looked sharply at her; old Mrs. Kendig was fat, toothless, and +seventy, and the active, spare New England woman felt a sudden wrath at +the implied comparison. Griselda was not tried upon the subject of her +age, or we might have had a different legend. But Tita looked as idly +calm as a summer morning, and Miss Lois turned away, as she had turned a +hundred times before, uncertain between intention and simple chance. + +"Very well, then, I will go," she said. "How you bother me, Erastus!" + +"No, I don't," said the youth, releasing her. "You know you like me, +Miss Lois; you know you do." + +"Brazen-face!" said Miss Lois, pushing him away. But any one could see +that she did like him. + +"Of course I may go, father?" said Tita, without stirring, but looking +at him steadily. + +"I suppose so," he answered, slowly; "that is, if Erastus will take care +of you." + +"Will you take care of me, Erastus?" asked the soft voice. + +"Don't be absurd, Tita; of course he will," said Miss Lois, shortly. "He +will see to you as well as to the other children." + +And then Douglas turned and left the room. + +Erastus, or Rast, as he was called, went back to his place beside Anne. +He was a remarkably handsome youth of seventeen, with bright blue eyes, +golden hair, a fine spirited outline, laughing mouth, and impetuous, +quick movements; tall as a young sapling, his figure was almost too +slender for its height, but so light and elastic that one forgave the +fault, and forgot it in one look at the mobile face, still boyish in +spite of the maturity given by the hard cold life of the North. + +"Why have we not heard of this dance before, Erastus?" asked Miss Lois, +ever mindful and tenacious of a dignity of position which no one +disputed, but which was none the less to her a subject of constant and +belligerent watchfulness--one by which she gauged the bow of the +shop-keeper, the nod of the passing islander, the salute of the little +half-breed boys who had fish to sell, and even the guttural ejaculations +of the Chippewas who came to her door offering potatoes and Indian +sugar. + +"Because it was suggested only a few hours ago, up at the fort. I was +dining with Dr. Gaston, and Walters came across from the commandant's +cottage and told me. Since then I have been hard at work with them, +decorating and lighting the ball-room." + +"Which one of the old shells have you taken?" asked Miss Lois. "I hope +the roof will not come down on our heads." + +"We have Larrabee's; that has the best floor. And as to coming down on +our heads, those old warehouses are stronger than you imagine, Miss +Lois. Have you never noticed their great beams?" + +"I have noticed their toppling fronts and their slanting sides, their +bulgings out and their leanings in," replied Miss Lois, nodding her head +emphatically. + +"The leaning tower of Pisa, you know, is pronounced stronger than other +towers that stand erect," said Rast. "That old brown shell of Larrabee's +is jointed together so strongly that I venture to predict it will +outlive us all. We might be glad of such joints ourselves, Miss Lois." + +"If it will only not come down on our heads to-night, that is all I ask +of its joints," replied Miss Lois. + +Soon after seven o'clock the ball opened: darkness had already lain over +the island for nearly three hours, and the evening seemed well advanced. + +"Oh, Tita!" said Anne, as the child stepped out of her long cloak and +stood revealed, clad in a fantastic short skirt of black cloth barred +with scarlet, and a little scarlet bodice, "that dress is too thin, and +besides--" + +"She looks like a circus-rider," said Miss Lois, in dismay. "Why did you +allow it, Anne?" + +"I knew nothing of it," replied the elder sister, with a distressed +expression on her face, but, as usual, not reproving Tita. "It is the +little fancy dress the fort ladies made for her last summer when they +had tableaux. It is too late to go back now; she must wear it, I +suppose; perhaps in the crowd it will not be noticed." + +Tita, unmoved, had walked meanwhile over to the hearth, and sitting down +on the floor before the fire, was taking off her snow-boots and donning +her new slippers, apparently unconscious of remark. + +The scene was a striking one, or would have been such to a stranger. The +lower floor of the warehouse had been swept and hastily garnished with +evergreens and all the flags the little fort could muster; at each end +on a broad hearth a great fire of logs roared up the old chimney, and +helped to light the room, a soldier standing guard beside it, and +keeping up the flame by throwing on wood every now and then from the +heap in the corner near by. Candles were ranged along the walls, and +lanterns hung from the beams above; all that the island could do in the +way of illumination had been done. The result was a picturesque mingling +of light and shade as the dancers came into the ruddy gleam of the fires +and passed out again, now seen for a moment in the paler ray of a candle +farther down the hall, now lost in the shadows which everywhere swept +across the great brown room from side to side, like broad-winged ghosts +resting in mid-air and looking down upon the revels. The music came from +six French fiddlers, four young, gayly dressed fellows, and two +grizzled, withered old men, and they played the tunes of the century +before, and played them with all their might and main. The little fort, +a one-company post, was not entitled to a band; but there were, as +usual, one or two German musicians among the enlisted men, and these now +stood near the French fiddlers and watched them with slow curiosity, +fingering now and then in imagination the great brass instruments which +were to them the keys of melody, and dreaming over again the happy days +when they, too, played "with the band." But the six French fiddlers +cared nothing for the Germans; they held themselves far above the common +soldiers of the fort, and despised alike their cropped hair, their +ideas, their uniforms, and the strict rules they were obliged to obey. +They fiddled away with their eyes cast up to the dark beams above, and +their tunes rang out in that shrill, sustained, clinging treble which no +instrument save a violin can give. The entire upper circle of society +was present, and a sprinkling of the second; for the young officers +cared more for dancing than for etiquette, and a pretty young French +girl was in their minds of more consequence than even the five Misses +Macdougall with all their blood, which must have been, however, of a +thin, although, of course, precious, quality, since between the whole +five there seemed scarcely enough for one. The five were there, however, +in green plaided delaines with broad lace collars and large flat +shell-cameo breastpins with scroll-work settings: they presented an +imposing appearance to the eyes of all. The father of these ladies, long +at rest from his ledgers, was in his day a prominent resident official +of the Fur Company; his five maiden daughters lived on in the old house, +and occupied themselves principally in remembering him. Miss Lois seated +herself beside these acknowledged heads of society, and felt that she +was in her proper sphere. The dance-music troubled her ears, but she +endured it manfully. + +"A gay scene," she observed, gazing through her spectacles. + +The five Misses Macdougall bowed acquiescence, and said that it was +fairly gay; indeed, rather too gay, owing to more of a mingling than +they approved; but nothing, ah! nothing, to the magnificent +entertainments of times past, which had often been described to them by +their respected parent. (They never seemed to have had but one.) + +"Of course you will dance, Anne?" said Rast Pronando. + +She smiled an assent, and they were soon among the dancers. Tita, left +alone, followed them with her eyes as they passed out of the fire-light +and were lost in the crowd and the sweeping shadows. Then she made her +way, close to the wall, down to the other end of the long room, where +the commandant's wife and the fort ladies sat in state, keeping up the +dignity of what might be called the military end of the apartment. Here +she sought the brightest light she could find, and placed herself in it +carelessly, and as though by chance, to watch the dancers. + +"Look at that child," said the captain's wife. "What an odd little thing +it is!" + +"It is Tita Douglas, Anne's little sister," said Mrs. Bryden, the wife +of the commandant. "I am surprised they allowed her to come in that +tableau dress. Her mother was a French girl, I believe. Dr. Douglas, you +know, came to the island originally as surgeon of the post." + +"There is Anne now, and dancing with young Pronando, of course," said +the wife of one of the lieutenants. + +"Dr. Gaston thinks there is no one like Anne Douglas," observed Mrs. +Bryden. "He has educated her almost entirely; taught her Latin and +Greek, and all sorts of things. Her father is a musical genius, you +know, and in one way the girl knows all about music; in another, nothing +at all. Do you think she is pretty, Mrs. Cromer?" + +Mrs. Cromer thought "Not at all; too large, and--unformed in every way." + +"I sometimes wonder, though, why she is not pretty," said Mrs. Bryden, +in a musing tone. "She ought to be." + +"I never knew but one girl of that size and style who was pretty, and +she had had every possible advantage of culture, society, and foreign +travel; wore always the most elaborately plain costumes--works of art, +in a Greek sort of way; said little; but sat or stood about in +statuesque attitudes that made you feel thin and insignificant, and glad +you had all your clothes on," said Mrs. Cromer. + +"And was this girl pretty?" + +"She was simply superb," said the captain's wife. "But do look at young +Pronando. How handsome he is to-night!" + +"An Apollo Belvedere," said the wife of the lieutenant, who, having +rashly allowed herself to spend a summer at West Point, was now living +in the consequences. + +But although the military element presided like a court circle at one +end of the room, and the five Misses Macdougall and Miss Lois like an +element of first families at the other, the intervening space was well +filled with a motley assemblage--lithe young girls with sparkling black +eyes and French vivacity, matrons with a shade more of brown in their +complexions, and withered old grandams who sat on benches along the +walls, and looked on with a calm dignity of silence which never came +from Saxon blood. Intermingled were youths of rougher aspect but of fine +mercurial temperaments, who danced with all their hearts as well as +bodies, and kept exact time with the music, throwing in fancy steps from +pure love of it as they whirled lightly down the hall with their +laughing partners. There were a few young men of Scotch descent present +also, clerks in the shops, and superintendents of the fisheries which +now formed the only business of the once thriving frontier village. +These were considered by island parents of the better class desirable +suitors for their daughters--far preferable to the young officers who +succeeded each other rapidly at the little fort, with attachments +delightful, but as transitory as themselves. It was noticeable, however, +that the daughters thought otherwise. Near the doorway in the shadow a +crowd of Indians had gathered, while almost all of the common soldiers +from the fort, on one pretext or another, were in the hall, attending to +the fires and lights, or acting as self-appointed police. Even Chaplain +Gaston looked in for a moment, and staid an hour; and later in the +evening the tall form of Père Michaux appeared, clad in a furred mantle, +a black silk cap crowning his silver hair. Tita immediately left her +place and went to meet him, bending her head with an air of deep +reverence. + +"See the child--how theatrical!" said Mrs. Cromer. + +"Yes. Still, the Romanists do believe in all kinds of amusements, and +even ask a blessing on it," said the lieutenant's wife. + +"It was not that--it was the little air and attitude of devoutness that +I meant. See the puss now!" + +But the puss was triumphant at last. One of the younger officers had +noted her solemn little salutation in front of the priest, and now +approached to ask her to dance, curious to see what manner of child this +small creature could be. In another moment she was whirling down the +hall with him, her dark face flushed, her eyes radiant, her dancing +exquisitely light and exact. She passed Anne and Rast with a sparkling +glance, her small breast throbbing with a swell of satisfied vanity that +almost stopped her breath. + +"There is Tita," said the elder sister, rather anxiously. "I hope Mr. +Walters will not spoil her with his flattery." + +"There is no danger; she is not pretty enough," answered Rast. + +A flush rose in Anne's face. "You do not like my little sister," she +said. + +"Oh, I do not dislike her," said Rast. "I could not dislike anything +that belonged to _you_," he added, in a lower tone. + +She smiled as he bent his handsome head toward her to say this. She was +fond of Rast; he had been her daily companion through all her life; she +scarcely remembered anything in which he was not concerned, from her +first baby walk in the woods back of the fort, her first ride in a +dog-sledge on the ice, to yesterday's consultation over the chapel +evergreens. + +The six French fiddlers played on; they knew not fatigue. In imagination +they had danced every dance. Tita was taken out on the floor several +times by the officers, who were amused by her little airs and her small +elfish face: she glowed with triumph. Anne had but few invitations, save +from Rast; but as his were continuous, she danced all the evening. At +midnight Miss Lois and the Misses Macdougall formally rose, and the fort +ladies sent for their wrappings: the ball, as far as the first circle +was concerned, was ended. But long afterward the sound of the fiddles +was still heard, and it was surmised that the second circle was having +its turn, possibly not without a sprinkling of the third also. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + "Wassamequin, Nashoonon, and Massaconomet did voluntarily submit + themselves to the English, and promise to be willing from time to + time to be instructed in the knowledge of God. Being asked not to + do any unnecessary work on the Sabbath day, they answered, 'It is + easy to them; they have not much to do on any day, and can well + take rest on that day as any other.' So then we, causing them to + understand the articles, and all the ten commandments of God, and + they freely assenting to all, they were solemnly received; and the + Court gave each of them a coat of two yards of cloth, and their + dinner; and to them and their men, every one of them, a cup of sack + at their departure. So they took leave, and went + away."--_Massachusetts Colonial Records._ + + +Dr. Gaston sat in his library, studying a chess problem. His clerical +coat was old and spotted, his table was of rough wood, the floor +uncarpeted; by right, Poverty should have made herself prominent there. +But she did not. Perhaps she liked the old chaplain, who showed a fine, +amply built person under her reign, with florid complexion, bright blue +eyes, and a curly brown wig--very different in aspect from her usual +lean and dismal retinue; perhaps, also, she stopped here herself to warm +her cold heart now and then in the hot, bright, crowded little room, +which was hers by right, although she did not claim it, enjoying it, +however, as a miserly money-lender enjoys the fine house over which he +holds a mortgage, rubbing his hands exultingly, as, clad in his thin old +coat, he walks by. Certainly the plastering had dropped from the walls +here and there; there was no furniture save the tables and shelves made +by the island carpenter, and one old leathern arm-chair, the parson's +own, a miracle of comfort, age, and hanging leather tatters. But on the +shelves and on the tables, on the floor and on the broad window-sills, +were books; they reached the ceiling on the shelves; they wainscoted the +walls to the height of several feet all round the room; small volumes +were piled on the narrow mantel as far up as they could go without +toppling over, and the tables were loaded also. Aisles were kept open +leading to the door, to the windows, and to the hearth, where the ragged +arm-chair stood, and where there was a small parade-ground of open +floor; but everywhere else the printed thoughts held sway. The old +fire-place was large and deep, and here burned night and day, throughout +the winter, a fire which made the whole room bright; add to this the +sunshine streaming through the broad, low, uncurtained windows, and you +have the secret of the cheerfulness in the very face of a barren lack of +everything we are accustomed to call comfort. + +The Reverend James Gaston was an Englishman by birth. On coming to +America he had accepted a chaplaincy in the army, with the intention of +resigning it as soon as he had become sufficiently familiar with the +ways of the Church in this country to feel at ease in a parish. But +years had passed, and he was a chaplain still; for evidently the country +parishes were not regulated according to his home ideas, the rector's +authority--yes, even the tenure of his rectorship--being dependent upon +the chance wills and fancies of his people. Here was no dignity, no time +for pleasant classical studies, and no approval of them; on the +contrary, a continuous going out to tea, and a fear of offending, it +might be, a warden's wife, who very likely had been brought up a +Dissenter. The Reverend James Gaston therefore preferred the government +for a master. + +Dr. Gaston held the office of post chaplain, having been, on +application, selected by the council of administration. He had no +military rank, but as there happened to be quarters to spare, a cottage +was assigned to him, and as he had had the good fortune to be liked and +respected by all the officers who had succeeded each other on the little +island, his position, unlike that of some of his brethren, was +endurable, and even comfortable. He had been a widower for many years; +he had never cared to marry again, but had long ago recovered his +cheerfulness, and had brought up, intellectually at least, two children +whom he loved as if they had been his own--the boy Erastus Pronando, and +Anne Douglas. The children returned his affection heartily, and made a +great happiness in his lonely life. The girl was his good scholar, the +boy his bad one; yet the teacher was severe with Anne, and indulgent to +the boy. If any one had asked the reason, perhaps he would have said +that girls were docile by nature, whereas boys, having more temptations, +required more lenity; or perhaps that girls who, owing to the +constitution of society, never advanced far in their studies, should +have all the incitement of severity while those studies lasted, whereas +boys, who are to go abroad in the world and learn from life, need no +such severity. But the real truth lay deeper than this, and the chaplain +himself was partly conscious of it; he felt that the foundations must be +laid accurately and deeply in a nature like that possessed by this young +girl. + +"Good-morning, uncle," said Anne, entering and putting down her Latin +books (as children they had adopted the fashion of calling their teacher +"uncle"). "Was your coffee good this morning?" + +"Ah, well, so-so, child, so-so," replied the chaplain, hardly aroused +yet from his problem. + +"Then I must go out and speak to--to--what is this one's name, uncle?" + +"Her name is--here, I have it written down--Mrs. Evelina Crangall," said +the chaplain, reading aloud from his note-book, in a slow, sober voice. +Evidently it was a matter of moment to him to keep that name well in his +mind. + +Public opinion required that Dr. Gaston should employ a Protestant +servant; no one else was obliged to conform, but the congregation felt +that a stand must be made somewhere, and they made it, like a chalk +line, at the parson's threshold. Now it was very well known that there +were no Protestants belonging to the class of servants on the island who +could cook at all, that talent being confined to the French +quarter-breeds and to occasional Irish soldiers' wives, none of them +Protestants. The poor parson's cooking was passed from one incompetent +hand to another--lake-sailors' wives, wandering emigrants, moneyless +forlorn females left by steamers, belonging to that strange floating +population that goes forever travelling up and down the land, without +apparent motive save a vague El-Dorado hope whose very conception would +be impossible in any other country save this. Mrs. Evelina Crangall was +a hollow-chested woman with faded blue eyes, one prominent front tooth, +scanty light hair, and for a form a lattice-work of bones. She +preserved, however, a somewhat warlike aspect in her limp calico, and +maintained that she thoroughly understood the making of coffee, but that +she was accustomed to the use of a French coffee-pot. Anne, answering +serenely that no French coffee-pot could be obtained in that kitchen, +went to work and explained the whole process from the beginning, the +woman meanwhile surveying her with suspicion, which gradually gave way +before the firm but pleasant manner. With a long list of kindred +Evelinas, Anne had had dealings before. Sometimes her teachings effected +a change for the better, sometimes they did not, but in any case the +Evelinas seldom remained long. They were wanderers by nature, and had +sudden desires to visit San Francisco, or to "go down the river to +Newerleens." This morning, while making her explanation, Anne made +coffee too. It was a delicious cupful which she carried back with her +into the library, and the chaplain, far away in the chess country, came +down to earth immediately in order to drink it. Then they opened the +Latin books, and Anne translated her page of Livy, her page of Cicero, +and recited her rules correctly. She liked Latin; its exactness suited +her. Mrs. Bryden was wrong when she said that the girl studied Greek. +Dr. Gaston had longed to teach her that golden tongue, but here William +Douglas had interfered. "Teach her Latin if you like, but not Greek," he +said. "It would injure the child--make what is called a blue-stocking of +her, I suppose--and it is my duty to stand between her and injury." + +"Ah! ah! you want to make a belle of her, do you?" said the cheery +chaplain. + +[Illustration: "AS SHE BENT OVER THE OLD VOLUME."] + +"I said it was my duty; I did not say it was my wish," replied the +moody father. "If I could have my wish, Anne should never know what a +lover is all her life long." + +"What! you do not wish to have her marry, then? There are happy +marriages. Come, Douglas, don't be morbid." + +"I know what men are. And you and I are no better." + +"But she may love." + +"Ah! there it is; she may. And that is what I meant when I said that it +was my duty to keep her from making herself positively unattractive." + +"Greek need not do that," said Dr. Gaston, shortly. + +"It need not, but it does. Let me ask you one question: did you ever +fall in love, or come anywhere near falling in love, with a girl who +understood Greek?" + +"That is because only the homely ones take to it," replied the chaplain, +fencing a little. + +But Anne was not taught Greek. After Cicero she took up algebra, then +astronomy. After that she read aloud from a ponderous Shakspeare, and +the old man corrected her accentuation, and questioned her on the +meanings. A number of the grand old plays the girl knew almost entirely +by heart; they had been her reading-books from childhood. The +down-pouring light of the vivid morning sunshine and the up-coming white +glare of the ice below met and shone full upon her face and figure as +she bent over the old volume laid open on the table before her, one hand +supporting her brow, the other resting on the yellow page. Her hands +were firm, white, and beautifully shaped--strong hands, generous hands, +faithful hands; not the little, idle, characterless, faithless palms so +common in America, small, dainty, delicate, and shapeless, coming from a +composite origin. Her thick hair, brown as a mellowed chestnut, with a +gleam of dark red where the light touched it, like the red of November +oak leaves, was, as usual, in her way, the heavy braids breaking from +the coil at the back of her head, one by one, as she read on through +_Hamlet_. At last impatiently she drew out the comb, and they all fell +down over her shoulders, and left her in momentary peace. + +The lesson was nearly over when Rast Pronando appeared; he was to enter +college--a Western college on one of the lower lakes--early in the +spring, and that prospect made the chaplain's lessons seem dull to him. +"Very likely they will not teach at all as he does; I shall do much +better if I go over the text-books by myself," he said, confidentially, +to Anne. "I do not want to appear old-fashioned, you know." + +"Is it unpleasant to be old-fashioned? I should think the old fashions +would be sure to be the good ones," said the girl. "But I do not want +you to go so far beyond me, Rast; we have always been even until now. +Will you think _me_ old-fashioned too when you come back?" + +"Oh no; you will always be Anne. I can predict you exactly at twenty, +and even thirty: there is no doubt about _you_." + +"But shall I be old-fashioned?" + +"Well, perhaps; but we don't mind it in women. All the goddesses were +old-fashioned, especially Diana. _You_ are Diana." + +"Diana, a huntress. She loved Endymion, who was always asleep," said +Anne, quoting from her school-girl mythology. + +This morning Rast had dropped in to read a little Greek with his old +master, and to walk home with Anne. The girl hurried through her +_Hamlet_, and then yielded the place to him. It was a three-legged +stool, the only companion the arm-chair had, and it was the seat for the +reciting scholar; the one who was studying sat in a niche on the +window-seat at a little distance. Anne, retreating to this niche, began +to rebraid her hair. + +"But she, within--within--singing with enchanting tone, enchanting +voice, wove with a--with a golden shuttle the sparkling web," read Rast, +looking up and dreamily watching the brown strands taking their place in +the long braid. Anne saw his look, and hurried her weaving. The girl had +thought all her life that her hair was ugly because it was so heavy, and +neither black nor gold in hue; and Rast, following her opinion, had +thought so too: she had told him it was, many a time. It was +characteristic of her nature that while as a child she had admired her +companion's spirited, handsome face and curling golden locks, she had +never feared lest he might not return her affection because she happened +to be ugly; she drew no comparisons. But she had often discussed the +subject of beauty with him. "I should like to be beautiful," she said; +"like that girl at the fort last summer." + +"Pooh! it doesn't make much difference," answered Rast, magnanimously. +"I shall always like you." + +"That is because you are so generous, dear." + +"Perhaps it is," answered the boy. + +This was two years before, when they were fourteen and fifteen years +old; at sixteen and seventeen they had advanced but little in their +ideas of life and of each other. Still, there was a slight change, for +Anne now hurried the braiding; it hurt her a little that Rast should +gaze so steadily at the rough, ugly hair. + +When the Greek was finished they said good-by to the chaplain, and left +the cottage together. As they crossed the inner parade-ground, taking +the snow path which led toward the entrance grating, and which was kept +shovelled out by the soldiers, the snow walls on each side rising to +their chins, Rast suddenly exclaimed: "Oh, Annet, I have thought of +something! I am going to take you down the fort hill on a sled. Now you +need not object, because I shall do it in any case, although we _are_ +grown up, and I _am_ going to college. Probably it will be the last +time. I shall borrow Bert Bryden's sled. Come along." + +All the boy in him was awake; he seized Anne's wrist, and dragged her +through first one cross-path, then another, until at last they reached +the commandant's door. From the windows their heads had been visible, +turning and crossing above the heaped-up snow. "Rast, and Anne Douglas," +said Mrs. Bryden, recognizing the girl's fur cap and the youth's golden +hair. She tapped on the window, and signed to them to enter without +ceremony. "What is it, Rast? Good-morning, Anne; what a color you have, +child!" + +"Rast has been making me run," said Anne, smiling, and coming toward +the hearth, where the fort ladies were sitting together sewing, and +rather lugubriously recalling Christmas times in their old Eastern +homes. + +"Throw off your cloak," said Mrs. Cromer, "else you will take cold when +you go out again." + +"We shall only stay a moment," answered Anne. + +The cloak was of strong dark blue woollen cloth, closely fitted to the +figure, with a small cape; it reached from her throat to her ankles, and +was met and completed by fur boots, fur gloves, and a little fur cap. +The rough plain costume was becoming to the vigorous girl. "It tones her +down," thought the lieutenant's wife; "she really looks quite well." + +In the mean while Rast had gone across to the dining-room to find Bert +Bryden, the commandant's son, and borrow his sled. + +"And you're really going to take Miss Douglas down the hill!" said the +boy. "Hurrah! I'll look out of the side window and see. What fun! Such a +big girl to go sliding!" + +Anne was a big girl to go; but Rast was not to be withstood. She would +not get on the sled at the door, as he wished, but followed him out +through the sally-port, and round to the top of the long steep fort +hill, whose snowy slippery road-track was hardly used at all during the +winter, save by coasters, and those few in number, for the village boys, +French and half-breeds, did not view the snow as an amusement, or +toiling up hill as a recreation. The two little boys at the fort, and +what Scotch and New England blood there was in the town, held a monopoly +of the coasting. + +"There they go!" cried Bert, from his perch on the deep window-seat +overlooking the frozen Straits and the village below. "Mamma, you must +let me take you down now; you are not so big as Miss Douglas." + +Mrs. Bryden, a slender little woman, laughed. "Fancy the colonel's +horror," she said, "if he should see me sliding down that hill! And yet +it looks as if it might be rather stirring," she added, watching the +flying sled and its load. The sled, of island manufacture, was large +and sledge-like; it carried two comfortably. Anne held on by Rast's +shoulders, sitting behind him, while he guided the flying craft. Down +they glided, darted, faster and faster, losing all sense of everything +after a while save speed. Reaching the village street at last, they flew +across it, and out on the icy pier beyond, where Rast by a skillful +manoeuvre stopped the sled on the very verge. The fort ladies were all at +the windows now, watching. + +"How dangerous!" said Mrs. Bryden, forgetting her admiration of a moment +before with a mother's irrelevant rapidity. "Albert, let me never see or +hear of your sliding on that pier; another inch, and they would have +gone over, down on the broken ice below!" + +"I couldn't do it, mamma, even if I tried," replied Master Albert, +regretfully; "I always tumble off the sled at the street, or else run +into one of the warehouses. Only Rast Pronando can steer across +slanting, and out on that pier." + +"I am very glad to hear it," replied Mrs. Bryden; "but your father must +also give you his positive commands on the subject. I had no idea that +the pier was ever attempted." + +"And it is not, mamma, except by Rast," said the boy. "Can't I try it +when I am as old as he is?" + +"Hear the child!" said Mrs. Cromer, going back to her seat by the fire; +"one would suppose he expected to stay here all his life. Do you not +know, Bert, that we are only here for a little while--a year or two? +Before you are eighteen months older very likely you will find yourself +out on the plains. What a life it is!" + +The fort ladies all sighed. It was a habit they had. They drew the +dreariest pictures of their surroundings and privations in their letters +homeward, and really believed them, theoretically. In truth, there were +some privations; but would any one of them have exchanged army life for +civilian? To the last, thorough army ladies retain their ways; you +recognize them even when retired to private and perhaps more prosperous +life. Cosmopolitans, they do not sink into the ruts of small-town life; +they are never provincial. They take the world easily, having a +pleasant, generous taste for its pleasures, and making light of the +burdens that fall to their share. All little local rules and ways are +nothing to them: neither here nor anywhere are they to remain long. With +this habit and manner they keep up a vast amount of general +cheeriness--vast indeed, when one considers how small the incomes +sometimes are. But if small, they are also sure. + +"Rast Pronando is too old for such frolics, I think," said Mrs. Rankin, +the lieutenant's wife, beginning another seam in the new dress for her +baby. + +"He goes to college in the spring; that will quiet him," said Mrs. +Bryden. + +"What will he do afterward? Is he to live here? At this end of the +world--this jumping-off place?" + +"I suppose so; he has always lived here. But he belongs, you know, to +the old Philadelphia family of the same name, the Peter Pronandos." + +"Does he? How strange! How did he come here?" + +"He was born here: Dr. Gaston told me his history. It seems that the +boy's father was a wild younger son of the second Peter, grandson, of +course, of the original Peter, from whom the family derive all their +greatness--_and_ money. This Peter the third, only his name was not +Peter, but John (the eldest sons were the Peters), wandered away from +home, and came up here, where his father's name was well known among the +directors of the Fur Company. John Pronando, who must have been of very +different fibre from the rest of the family, liked the wild life of the +border, and even went off on one or two long expeditions to the Red +River of the North and the Upper Missouri after furs with the hunters of +the Company. His father then offered him a position here which would +carry with it authority, but he curtly refused, saying that he had no +taste for a desk and pen like Peter. Peter was his brother, who had +begun dutifully at an early age his life-long task of taking care of the +large accumulation of land which makes the family so rich. Peter was the +good boy always. Father Peter was naturally angry with John, and +inclined even then to cross his name off the family list of heirs; this, +however, was not really done until the prodigal crowned his long course +of misdeeds by marrying the pretty daughter of a Scotchman, who held one +of the smaller clerkships in the Company's warehouses here--only a grade +above the hunters themselves. This was the end. Almost anything else +might have been forgiven save a marriage of that kind. If John Pronando +had selected the daughter of a flat-boat man on the Ohio River, or of a +Pennsylvania mountain wagoner, they might have accepted her--at a +distance--and made the best of her. But a person from the rank and file +of their own Fur Company--it was as though a colonel should marry the +daughter of a common soldier in his own regiment: yes, worse, for +nothing can equal the Pronando pride. From that day John Pronando was +simply forgotten--so they said. His mother was dead, so it may have been +true. A small sum was settled upon him, and a will was carefully drawn +up forever excluding him and the heirs he might have from any share in +the estate. John did not appear to mind this, but lived on merrily +enough for some years afterward, until his sweet little wife died; then +he seemed to lose his strength suddenly, and soon followed her, leaving +this one boy, Erastus, named after the maternal grandfather, with his +usual careless disregard of what would be for his advantage. The boy has +been brought up by our good chaplain, although he lives with a family +down in the village; the doctor has husbanded what money there was +carefully, and there is enough to send him through college, and to start +him in life in some way. A good education he considered the best +investment of all." + +"In a fresh-water college?" said Mrs. Cromer, raising her eyebrows. + +"Why not, for a fresh-water boy? He will always live in the West." + +"He is so handsome," said Mrs. Rankin, "that he might go Eastward, +captivate his relatives, and win his way back into the family again." + +"He does not know anything about his family," said the colonel's wife. + +"Then some one ought to tell him." + +"Why? Simply for the money? No: let him lead his own life out here, and +make his own way," said Mrs. Bryden, warmly. + +"What a radical you are, Jane!" + +"No, not a radical; but I have seen two or three of the younger +Pronandos, of the fourth generation, I mean, and whenever I think of +their dead eyes, and lifeless, weary manner, I feel like doing what I +can to keep Rast away from them." + +"But the boy must live his life, Jane. These very Pronandos whom you +describe will probably be sober and staid at fifty: the Pronandos always +are. And Rast, after all, is one of them." + +"But not like them. _He_ would go to ruin, he has so much more +imagination than they have." + +"And less stability?" + +"Well, no; less epicureanism, perhaps. It is the solid good things of +life that bring the Pronandos back, after they have indulged in youthful +wildness: they have no taste for husks." + +Then the colonel came in, and, soon after, the sewing circle broke up, +Mrs. Cromer and Mrs. Rankin returning to their quarters in the other +cottages through the walled snow-paths. The little fort was perched on +the brow of the cliff, overlooking the village and harbor; the windows +of the stone cottages which formed the officers' quarters commanded an +uninterrupted view of blue water in summer, and white ice fields in +winter, as far as the eye could reach. It could hardly have withstood a +bombardment; its walls and block-houses, erected as a defense against +the Indians, required constant propping and new foundation-work to keep +them within the requirements of safety, not to speak of military +dignity. But the soldiers had nothing else to do, and, on the whole, the +fort looked well, especially from the water, crowning the green height +with buttressed majesty. During eight months of the year the officers +played chess and checkers, and the men played fox-and-geese. The +remaining four months, which comprised all there was of spring, summer, +and autumn, were filled full of out-door work and enjoyment; summer +visitors came, and the United States uniform took its conquering place, +as usual, among the dancers, at the picnics, and on the fast-sailing +fishing-boats which did duty as yachts, skimming over the clear water in +whose depths fish could be seen swimming forty feet below. These same +fish were caught and eaten--the large lake trout, and the delicate +white-fish, aristocrat of the freshwater seas; three-quarters of the +population were fishermen, and the whole town drew its food from the +deep. The business had broadened, too, as the Prairie States became more +thickly settled, namely, the salting and packing for sale of these +fresh-water fish. Barrels stood on the piers, and brisk agents, with +pencils behind their ears, stirred the slow-moving villagers into +activity, as the man with a pole stirs up the bears. Fur-bearing animals +had had their day; it was now the turn of the creatures of the deep. + +"Let us stop at the church-house a moment and see Miss Lois," said Rast, +as, dragging the empty sled behind him, he walked by Anne's side through +the village street toward the Agency. + +"I am afraid I have not time, Rast." + +"Make it, then. Come, Annet, don't be ill-natured. And, besides, you +ought to see that I go there, for I have not called upon Miss Lois this +year." + +"As this year only began last week, you are not so very far behind," +said the girl, smiling. "Why can you not go and see Miss Lois alone?" + +"I should be welcome, at any rate; _she_ adores me." + +"Does she, indeed!" + +"Yes, Miss Douglas, she does. She pretends otherwise, but that is always +the way with women. Oh! I know the world." + +"You are only one year older than I am." + +"In actual time, perhaps; but twenty years older in knowledge." + +"What will you be, then, when you come back from college? An old man?" + +"By no means; for _I_ shall stay where I am. But in the mean time you +will catch up with me." + +Handsome Rast had passed through his novitiate, so he thought. His +knowledge of the world was derived partly from Lieutenant Walters, who, +although fresh from West Point, was still several years older than young +Pronando, and patronized him accordingly, and partly from a slender, +low-voiced Miss Carew, who was thirty, but appeared twenty, after the +manner of slender yellow-white blondes who have never possessed any +rose-tints, having always been willowy and amber-colored. Miss Carew +sailed, for a summer's amusement through the Great Lakes of the West; +and then returned Eastward with the opinion that they were but so many +raw, blank, inland oceans, without sensations or local coloring enough +to rouse her. The week on the island, which was an epoch in Rast's life, +had held for her but languid interest; yet even the languid work of a +master-hand has finish and power, and Rast was melancholy and silent for +fifteen days after the enchantress had departed. Then he wrote to her +one or two wild letters, and received no answer; then he grew bitter. +Then Walters came, with his cadet's deep experience in life, and the +youth learned from him, and re-appeared on the surface again with a +tinge of cynicism which filled Anne with wonder. For he had never told +her the story of the summer; it was almost the only event in his life +which she had not shared. But it was not that he feared to tell her, +they were as frank with each other as two children; it was because he +thought she would not understand it. + +"I do not like Mr. Walters," she said, one day. + +"He was very much liked at the Point, I assure you," said Rast, with +significant emphasis. "By the ladies, I mean, who come there in the +summer." + +"How could they like him, with that important, egotistical air?" + +"But it is to conquer him they like," said Tita, looking up from her +corner. + +"Hear the child!" said Rast, laughing. "Are _you_ going to conquer, +Tita?" + +"Yes," said Tita, stroking the cat which shared the corner with her--a +soft coated yellow pussy that was generally sleepy and quiet, but which +had, nevertheless, at times, extraordinary fits of galloping round in a +circle, and tearing the bark from the trees as though she was +possessed--an eccentricity of character which the boys attributed to the +direct influence of Satan. + +Miss Lois lived in the church-house. It was an ugly house; but then, as +is often said of a plain woman, "so good!" It did not leak or rattle, or +fall down or smoke, or lean or sag, as did most of the other houses in +the village, in regard to their shingles, their shutters, their +chimneys, their side walls, and their roof-trees. It stood straightly +and squarely on its stone foundation, and every board, nail and latch +was in its proper position. Years before, missionaries had been sent +from New England to work among the Indians of this neighborhood, who had +obtained their ideas of Christianity, up to that time, solely from the +Roman Catholic priests, who had succeeded each other in an unbroken line +from that adventurous Jesuit, the first explorer of these inland seas, +Father Marquette. The Presbyterians came, established their mission, +built a meeting-house, a school-house, and a house for their pastor, the +buildings being as solid as their belief. Money was collected for this +enterprise from all over New England, that old-time, devout, +self-sacrificing community whose sternness and faith were equal; tall +spare men came westward to teach the Indians, earnest women with bright +steadfast eyes and lath-like forms were their aiders, wives, and +companions. Among these came Miss Lois--then young Lois +Hinsdale--carried Westward by an aunt whose missionary zeal was burning +splendidly up an empty chimney which might have been filled with family +loves and cares, but was not: shall we say better filled? The +missionaries worked faithfully; but, as the Indians soon moved further +westward, the results of their efforts can not be statistically +estimated now, or the accounts balanced. + +"The only good Indian is a dead Indian," is a remark that crystallizes +the floating opinion of the border. But a border population has not a +missionary spirit. New England, having long ago chased out, shot down, +and exterminated all her own Indians, had become peaceful and pious, and +did not agree with these Western carriers of shot-guns. Still, when +there were no more Indians to come to this island school, it was of +necessity closed, no matter which side was right. There were still +numbers of Chippewas living on the other islands and on the mainland; +but they belonged to the Roman Catholic faith, and were under the +control of Père Michaux. + +The Protestant church--a square New England meeting-house, with steeple +and bell--was kept open during another year; but the congregation grew +so small that at last knowledge of the true state of affairs reached the +New England purses, and it was decided that the minister in charge +should close this mission, and go southward to a more promising field +among the prairie settlers of Illinois. All the teachers connected with +the Indian school had departed before this--all save Miss Lois and her +aunt; for Priscilla Hinsdale, stricken down by her own intense energy, +which had consumed her as an inward fire, was now confined to her bed, +partially paralyzed. The New England woman had sold her farm, and put +almost all her little store of money into island property. "I shall live +and die here," she had said; "I have found my life-work." But her work +went away from her; her class of promising squaws departed with their +pappooses and their braves, and left her scholarless. + +"With all the blessed religious privileges they have here, besides other +advantages, I can not at all understand it--I can not understand it," +she repeated many times, especially to Sandy Forbes, an old Scotchman +and fervent singer of psalms. + +"Aweel, aweel, Miss Priscilla, I donnot suppose ye can," replied Sandy, +with a momentary twinkle in his old eyes. + +While still hesitating over her future course, illness struck down the +old maid, and her life-work was at last decided for her: it was merely +to lie in bed, motionless, winter and summer, with folded hands and +whatever resignation she was able to muster. Niece Lois, hitherto a +satellite, now assumed the leadership. This would seem a simple enough +charge, the household of two women, poor in purse, in a remote village +on a Northern frontier. But exotics of any kind require nursing and +vigilance, and the Hinsdale household was an exotic. Miss Priscilla +required that every collar should be starched in the New England +fashion, that every curtain should fall in New England folds, that every +dish on the table should be of New England origin, and that every clock +should tick with New England accuracy. Lois had known no other training; +and remembering as she did also the ways of the old home among the New +Hampshire hills with a child's fidelity and affection, she went even +beyond her aunt in faithfulness to her ideal; and although the elder +woman had long been dead, the niece never varied the habits or altered +the rules of the house which was now hers alone. + +"A little New England homestead strangely set up here on this far +Western island," William Douglas had said. + +The church house, as the villagers named it, was built by the +Presbyterian missionaries, many of them laboring with their own hands at +the good work, seeing, no doubt, files of Indian converts rising up in +another world to call them blessed. When it came into the hands of Miss +Priscilla, it came, therefore, ready-made as to New England ideas of +rooms and closets, and only required a new application of white and +green paint to become for her an appropriate and rectangular bower. It +stood near the closed meeting-house, whose steeple threw a slow-moving +shadow across its garden, like a great sun-dial, all day. Miss Lois had +charge of the key of the meeting-house, and often she unlocked its door, +went in, and walked up and down the aisle, as if to revive the memories +of the past. She remembered the faith and sure hope that used to fill +the empty spaces, and shook her head and sighed. Then she upbraided +herself for sighing, and sang in her thin husky voice softly a verse or +two of one of their old psalms by way of reparation. She sent an annual +report of the condition of the building to the Presbyterian Board of +Missions, but in it said nothing of the small repairs for which her own +purse paid. Was it a silent way of making amends to the old walls for +having deserted their tenets? + +"Cod-fish balls for breakfast on Sunday morning, of course," said Miss +Lois, "and fried hasty-pudding. On Wednesdays a boiled dinner. Pies on +Tuesdays and Saturdays." + +The pins stood in straight rows on her pincushion; three times each week +every room in the house was swept, and the floors as well as the +furniture dusted. Beans were baked in an earthen pot on Saturday night, +and sweet-cake was made on Thursday. Rast Pronando often dropped in to +tea on Thursday. Winter or summer, through scarcity or plenty, Miss Lois +never varied her established routine, thereby setting an example, she +said, to the idle and shiftless. And certainly she was a faithful +guide-post, continually pointing out an industrious and systematic way, +which, however, to the end of time, no French-blooded, French-hearted +person will ever travel, unless dragged by force. The villagers +preferred their lake trout to Miss Lois's salt cod-fish, their savory +stews and soups to her corned beef, their tartines to her corn-meal +puddings, and their eau-de-vie to her green tea; they loved their +disorder and their comfort; her bar soap and scrubbing-brush were a +horror to their eyes. They washed the household clothes two or three +times a year: was not that enough? Of what use the endless labor of this +sharp-nosed woman with glasses over her eyes at the church-house? Were +not, perhaps, the glasses the consequences of such toil? And her figure +of a long leanness also? + +The element of real heroism, however, came into Miss Lois's life in her +persistent effort to employ Indian servants. The old mission had been +established for their conversion and education; any descendant of that +mission, therefore, should continue to the utmost of her ability the +beneficent work. The meeting-house was closed, the school-house +abandoned, she could reach the native race by no other influence save +personal; that personal influence, then, she would use. Through long +years had she persisted, through long years would she continue to +persist. A succession of Chippewa squaws broke, stole, and skirmished +their way through her kitchen with various degrees of success, generally +in the end departing suddenly at night with whatever booty they could +lay their hands on. It is but justice to add, however, that this was not +much, a rigid system of keys and excellent locks prevailing in the +well-watched household. Miss Lois's conscience would not allow her to +employ half-breeds, who were sometimes endurable servants; duty +required, she said, that she should have full-blooded natives. And she +had them. She always began to teach them the alphabet within three days +after their arrival, and the spectacle of a tearful, freshly caught +Indian girl, very wretched in her calico dress and white apron, worn out +with the ways of the kettles and brasses, dejected over the fish-balls, +and appalled by the pudding, standing confronted by a large alphabet on +the well-scoured table, and Miss Lois by her side with a pointer, was +frequent and even regular in its occurrence, the only change being in +the personality of the learners. No one of them had ever gone through +the letters; but Miss Lois was not discouraged. Patiently she began over +again--she was always beginning over again. And in the mean time she was +often obliged not only to do almost all the household work with her own +hands, but to do it twice over in order to instruct the new-comer. By +the unwritten law of public opinion, Dr. Gaston was obliged to employ +only Protestant servants; by the unwritten law of her own conscience, +Miss Lois was obliged to employ only Indians. But in truth she did not +employ them so much as they employed her. + +Miss Lois received her young friends in the sitting-room. There was a +parlor with Brussels carpet and hair-cloth sofa across the hall, but its +blinds were closed, and its shades drawn down. The parlor of +middle-class households in the cold climate of the Northern States +generally is a consecrated apartment, with the chill atmosphere and much +of the solemnity of a tomb. It may be called the high altar of the +careful housewife; but even here her sense of cleanliness and dustless +perfection is such that she keeps it cold. No sacred fire burns, no +cheerful ministry is allowed; everything is silent and veiled. The +apartment is of no earthly use--nor heavenly, save perhaps for ghosts. +But take it away, and the housewife is miserable; leave it, and she +lives on contentedly in her sitting-room all the year round, knowing it +is _there_. + +Miss Lois's sitting-room was cheery; it had a rag-carpet, a bright fire, +and double-glass panes instead of the heavy woollen curtains which the +villagers hung over their windows in the winter--curtains that kept out +the cold, but also the light. Miss Lois's curtains were of white dimity +with knotted fringe, and her walls were freshly whitewashed. Her framed +sampler, and a memorial picture done with pen and ink, representing two +weeping-willows overshadowing a tombstone, ornamented the high +mantel-piece, and there were also two gayly colored china jars filled +with dried rose-leaves. They were only wild-brier roses; the real roses, +as she called them, grew but reluctantly in this Northern air. Miss Lois +never loved the wild ones as she had loved the old-fashioned +cinnamon-scented pink and damask roses of her youth, but she gathered +and dried these leaves of the brier from habit. There was also hanging +on the wall a looking-glass tilted forward at such an angle that the +looker-in could see only his feet, with a steep ascent of carpet going +up hill behind him. This looking-glass possessed a brightly hued picture +at the top, divided into two compartments, on one side a lovely lady +with a large bonnet modestly concealing her face, very bare shoulders, +leg-of-mutton sleeves, and a bag hanging on her arm; on the other old +Father Time, scythe in hand, as if he was intended as a warning to the +lovely lady that minutes were rapid and his stroke sure. + +"Why do you keep your glass tilted forward so far that we can not look +in it, Miss Lois?" Rast had once asked. + +Miss Lois did it from habit. But she answered: "To keep silly girls from +looking at themselves while they are pretending to talk to me. They say +something, and then raise their eyes quickly to see how they looked +when they said it. I have known them keep a smile or a particular +expression half a minute while they studied the effect--ridiculous +calves!" + +"Calves have lovely eyes sometimes," said Rast. + +"Did I say the girls were ugly, Master Pert? But the homely girls look +too." + +"Perhaps to see how they can improve themselves." + +"Perhaps," said the old maid, dryly. "Pity they never learn!" + +In the sitting-room was a high chest of drawers, an old clock, a +chintz-covered settle, and two deep narrow old rocking-chairs, intended +evidently for scant skirts; on an especial table was the family Bible, +containing the record of the Hinsdale family from the date of the +arrival of the _Mayflower_. Miss Lois's prayer-book was not there; it +was up stairs in a bureau drawer. It did not seem to belong to the +old-time furniture of the rooms below, nor to the Hinsdale Bible. + +The story of Miss Lois's change from the Puritan to the Episcopal ritual +might to-day fill a volume if written by one of those brooding, +self-searching woman-minds of New England--those unconscious, earnest +egotists who bring forth poetry beautiful sometimes to inspiration, but +always purely subjective. And if in such a volume the feelings, the +arguments, and the change were all represented as sincere, +conscientious, and prayerful, they would be represented with entire +truth. Nevertheless, so complex are the influences which move our lives, +and so deep the under-powers which we ourselves may not always +recognize, that it could be safely added by a man of the world as a +comment that Lois Hinsdale would never have felt these changes, these +doubts, these conflicts, if William Douglas had not been of another +creed. For in those days Douglas had a creed--the creed of his young +bride. + +"Miss Hinsdale, we have come to offer you our New-Year's good wishes," +said Rast, taking off his cap and making a ceremonious bow. "Our +equipage will wait outside. How charming is your apartment, madam! And +yourself--how Minerva-like the gleam of the eye, the motion of the hand, +which--" + +"Which made the pies now cooling in the pantry, Rast Pronando, to whose +fragrance, I presume, I owe the honor of this visit." + +"Not for myself, dear madam, but for Anne. She has already confided to +me that she feels a certain sinking sensation that absolutely requires +the strengthening influence of pie." + +Anne laughed. "Are you going to stay long?" she asked, still standing at +the doorway. + +"Certainly," replied Rast, seating himself in one of the narrow +rocking-chairs; "I have a number of subjects to discuss with our dear +Miss Lois." + +"Then I will leave you here, for Tita is waiting for me. I have promised +to take them all over to Père Michaux's house this afternoon." + +Miss Lois groaned--two short abrupt groans on different keys. + +"Have you? Then I'm going too," said Rast, rising. + +"Oh no, Rast; please do not," said the girl, earnestly. "When you go, it +is quite a different thing--a frolic always." + +"And why not?" said Rast. + +"Because the children go for religious instruction, as you well know; it +is their faith, and I feel that I ought to give them such opportunities +as I can to learn what it means." + +"It means mummery!" said Miss Lois, loudly and sternly. + +Anne glanced toward her old friend, but stood her ground firmly. "I must +take them," she said; "I promised I would do so as long as they were +children, and under my care. When they are older they can choose for +themselves." + +"To whom did you make that promise, Anne Douglas?" + +"To Père Michaux." + +"And you call yourself a Protestant!" + +"Yes; but I hope to keep a promise too, dear Miss Lois." + +"Why was it ever made?" + +"Père Michaux required it, and--father allowed it." + +Miss Lois rubbed her forehead, settled her spectacles with her first and +third fingers, shook her head briskly once or twice to see if they were +firmly in place, and then went on with her knitting. What William +Douglas allowed, how could she disallow? + +Rast, standing by Anne's side putting on his fur gloves, showed no +disposition to yield. + +"Please do not come, Rast," said the girl again, laying her hand on his +arm. + +"I shall go to take care of you." + +"It is not necessary; we have old Antoine and his dogs, and the boys are +to have a sled of their own. We shall be at home before dark, I think, +and if not, the moon to-night is full." + +"But I shall go," said Rast. + +"Nonsense!" said Miss Lois. "Of course you will not go; Anne is right. +You romp and make mischief with those children always. Behave now, and +you shall come back this evening, and Anne shall come too, and we will +have apples and nuts and gingerbread, and Anne shall recite." + +"Will you, Annet? I will yield if you promise." + +"If I must, I must," said Anne, reluctantly. + +"Go, then, proud maid; speed upon your errand. And in the mean time, +Miss Lois, something fragrant and spicy in the way of a reward _now_ +would not come amiss, and then some music." + +Among the possessions which Miss Lois had inherited from her aunt was a +small piano. The elder Miss Hinsdale, sent into the world with an almost +Italian love of music, found herself unable to repress it even in cold +New England; turning it, therefore, into the channel of the few stunted +psalms and hymns and spiritual songs of the day, she indulged it in a +cramped fashion, like a full-flowing stream shut off and made to turn a +mill. When the missionary spirit seized her in its fiery whirlwind, she +bargained with it mentally that her piano should be included; she +represented to the doubting elder that it would be an instrument of +great power among the savages, and that even David himself accompanied +the psalms with a well-stringed harp. The elder still doubted; he liked +a tuning-fork; and besides, the money which Miss Priscilla would pay for +the transportation of "the instrument" was greatly needed for boots for +the young men. But as Miss Priscilla was a free agent, and quite +determined, he finally decided, like many another leader, to allow what +he could not prevent, and the piano came. It was a small, old-fashioned +instrument, which had been kept in tune by Dr. Douglas, and through long +years the inner life of Miss Lois, her hopes, aspirations, and +disappointments, had found expression through its keys. It was a curious +sight to see the old maid sitting at her piano alone on a stormy +evening, the doors all closed, the shutters locked, no one stirring in +the church-house save herself. Her playing was old-fashioned, her hands +stiff; she could not improvise, and the range of the music she knew was +small and narrow, yet unconsciously it served to her all the purposes of +emotional expression. When she was sad, she played "China"; when she was +hopeful, "Coronation." She made the bass heavy in dejection, and played +the air in octaves when cheerful. She played only when she was entirely +alone. The old piano was the only confidant of the hidden remains of +youthful feeling buried in her heart. + +[Illustration: LOIS HINSDALE.] + +Rast played on the piano and the violin in an untrained fashion of his +own, and Anne sang; they often had small concerts in Miss Lois's parlor. +But a greater entertainment lay in Anne's recitations. These were all +from Shakspeare. Not in vain had the chaplain kept her tied to its pages +year after year; she had learned, almost unconsciously, as it were, +large portions of the immortal text by heart, and had formed her own +ideals of the characters, who were to her real persons, although as +different from flesh-and-blood people as are the phantoms of a dream. +They were like spirits who came at her call, and lent her their +personality; she could identify herself with them for the time being so +completely, throw herself into the bodies and minds she had +constructed for them so entirely, that the effect was startling, and all +the more so because her conceptions of the characters were girlish and +utterly different from those that have ruled the dramatic stage for +generations. Her ideas of Juliet, of Ophelia, of Rosalind, and Cleopatra +were her own, and she never varied them; the very earnestness of her +personations made the effect all the more extraordinary. Dr. Gaston had +never heard these recitations of his pupil; William Douglas had never +heard them; either of these men could have corrected her errors and +explained to her her mistakes. She herself thought them too trifling for +their notice; it was only a way she had of amusing herself. Even Rast, +her playmate, found it out by chance, coming upon her among the cedars +one day when she was Ophelia, and overhearing her speak several lines +before she saw him; he immediately constituted himself an audience of +one, with, however, the peremptory manners of a throng, and demanded to +hear all she knew. Poor Anne! the great plays of the world had been her +fairy tales; she knew no others. She went through her personations +timidly, the wild forest her background, the open air and blue Straits +her scenery. The audience found fault, but, on the whole, enjoyed the +performance, and demanded frequent repetitions. After a while Miss Lois +was admitted into the secret, and disapproved, and was curious, and +listened, and shook her head, but ended by liking the portraitures, +which were in truth as fantastic as phantasmagoria. Miss Lois had never +seen a play or read a novel in her life. For some time the forest +continued Anne's theatre, and more than once Miss Lois had taken +afternoon walks, for which her conscience troubled her: she could not +decide whether it was right or wrong. But winter came, and gradually it +grew into a habit that Anne should recite at the church-house now and +then, the Indian servant who happened to be at that time the occupant of +the kitchen being sent carefully away for the evening, in order that her +eye should not be guiltily glued to the key-hole during the exciting +visits of Ophelia and Juliet. Anne was always reluctant to give these +recitations now that she had an audience. "Out in the woods," she said, +"I had only the trees and the silence. I never thought of myself at +all." + +"But Miss Lois and I are as handsome as trees; and as to silence, we +never say a word," replied Rast. "Come, Annet, you know you like it." + +"Yes; in--in one way I do." + +"Then let us take that way," said Rast. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + --"Sounding names as any on the page of history--Lake Winnipeg, + Hudson Bay, Ottaway, and portages innumerable; Chipeways, Gens de + Terre, Les Pilleurs, the Weepers, and the like. An immense, shaggy, + but sincere country, adorned with chains of lakes and rivers, + covered with snows, with hemlocks and fir-trees. There is a + naturalness in this traveller, and an unpretendingness, as in a + Canadian winter, where life is preserved through low temperature + and frontier dangers by furs, and within a stout heart. He has + truth and moderation worthy of the father of history, which belong + only to an intimate experience; and he does not defer much to + literature."--THOREAU. + + +Immediately after the early dinner the little cavalcade set out for the +hermitage of Père Michaux, which was on an island of its own at some +distance from the village island; to reach it they journeyed over the +ice. The boys' sled went first, André riding, the other two drawing: +they were to take turns. Then came old Antoine and his dogs, +wise-looking, sedate creatures with wide-spread, awkward legs, big paws, +and toes turned in. René and Lebeau were the leaders; they were dogs of +age and character, and as they guided the sledge they also kept an eye +to the younger dogs behind. The team was a local one; it was not +employed in carrying the mails, but was used by the villagers when they +crossed to the various islands, the fishing grounds, or the Indian +villages on the mainland. Old Antoine walked behind with Anne by his +side: she preferred to walk. Snugly ensconced in the sledge in a warm +nest of furs was Tita, nothing visible of her small self save her dark +eyes, which were, however, most of the time closed: here there was +nothing to watch. The bells on the dogs sounded out merrily in the +clear air: the boys had also adorned themselves with bells, and pranced +along like colts. The sunshine was intensely bright, the blue heavens +seemed full of its shafts, the ice below glittered in shining lines; on +the north and south the dark evergreens of the mainland rose above the +white, but toward the east and west the fields of ice extended unbroken +over the edge of the horizon. Here they were smooth, covered with snow; +there they were heaped in hummocks and ridges, huge blocks piled against +each other, and frozen solid in that position where the wind and the +current had met and fought. The atmosphere was cold, but so pure and +still that breathing was easier than in many localities farther toward +the south. There was no dampness, no strong raw wind; only the even +cold. A feather thrown from a house-top would have dropped softly to the +ground in a straight line, as drop one by one the broad leaves of the +sycamore on still Indian summer days. The snow itself was dry; it had +fallen at intervals during the winter, and made thicker and thicker the +soft mantle that covered the water and land. When the flakes came down, +the villagers always knew that it was warmer, for when the clouds were +steel-bound, the snow could not fall. + +"I think we shall have snow again to-morrow," said old Antoine in his +voyageur dialect. "Step forward, then, genteelly, René. Hast thou no +conscience, Lebeau?" + +The two dogs, whose attention had been a little distracted by the +backward vision of André conveying something to his mouth, returned to +their duty with a jerk, and the other dogs behind all rang their little +bells suddenly as they felt the swerve of the leaders back into the +track. For there was a track over the ice toward Père Michaux's island, +and another stretching off due eastward--the path of the carrier who +brought the mails from below; besides these there were no other +ice-roads; the Indians and hunters came and went as the bird flies. Père +Michaux's island was not in sight from the village; it was, as the boys +said, round the corner. When they had turned this point, and no longer +saw the mission church, the little fort, and the ice-covered piers, when +there was nothing on the shore side save wild cliffs crowned with +evergreens, then before them rose a low island with its bare summer +trees, its one weather-beaten house, a straight line of smoke coming +from its chimney. It was still a mile distant, but the boys ran along +with new vigor. No one wished to ride; André, leaving his place, took +hold with the others, and the empty sled went on toward the hermitage at +a fine pace. + +"You could repose yourself there, mademoiselle," said Antoine, who never +thoroughly approved the walking upon her own two feet kept up--nay, even +enjoyed--by this vigorous girl at his side. Tita's ideas were more to +his mind. + +"But I like it," said Anne, smiling. "It makes me feel warm and strong, +all awake and joyous, as though I had just heard some delightful news." + +"But the delightful news in reality, mademoiselle--one hears not much of +it up here, as I say to Jacqueline." + +"Look at the sky, the ice-fields; that is news every day, newly +beautiful, if we will only look at it." + +"Does mademoiselle think, then, that the ice is beautiful?" + +"Very beautiful," replied the girl. + +The cold air had brought the blood to her cheeks, a gleaming light to +her strong, fearless eyes that looked the sun in the face without +quailing. Old Antoine caught the idea for the first time that she might, +perhaps, be beautiful some day, and that night, before his fire, he +repeated the idea to his wife. + +"Bah!" said old Jacqueline; "that is one great error of yours, my +friend. Have you turned blind?" + +"I did not mean beautiful in my eyes, of course; but one kind of beauty +pleases me, thank the saints, and that is, without doubt, your own," +replied the Frenchman, bowing toward his withered, bright-eyed old +spouse with courtly gravity. "But men of another race, now, like those +who come here in the summer, might they not think her passable?" + +But old Jacqueline, although mollified, would not admit even this. A +good young lady, and kind, it was to be hoped she would be content with +the graces of piety, since she had not those of the other sort. Religion +was all-merciful. + +The low island met the lake without any broken ice at its edge; it rose +slightly from the beach in a gentle slope, the snow-path leading +directly up to the house door. The sound of the bells brought Père +Michaux himself to the entrance. "Enter, then, my children," he said; +"and you, Antoine, take the dogs round to the kitchen. Pierre is there." + +Pierre was a French cook. Neither conscience nor congregation requiring +that Père Michaux should nourish his inner man with half-baked or +cindered dishes, he enjoyed to the full the skill and affection of this +small-sized old Frenchman, who, while learning in his youth the rules, +exceptions, and sauces of his profession, became the victim of black +melancholy on account of a certain Denise, fair but cold-hearted, who, +being employed in a conservatory, should have been warmer. Perhaps +Denise had her inner fires, but they emitted no gleam toward poor +Pierre; and at last, after spoiling two breakfasts and a dinner, and +drawing down upon himself the epithet of "imbécile," the sallow little +apprentice abandoned Paris, and in a fit of despair took passage for +America, very much as he might have taken passage for Hades _viâ_ the +charcoal route. Having arrived in New York, instead of seeking a place +where his knowledge, small as it was, would have been prized by exiled +Frenchmen in a sauceless land, the despairing, obstinate little cook +allowed himself to drift into all sorts of incongruous situations, and +at last enlisted in the United States army, where, as he could play the +flute, he was speedily placed in special service as member of the band. +Poor Pierre! his flute sang to him only "Denise! Denise!" But the +band-master thought it could sing other tunes as well, and set him to +work with the score before him. It was while miserably performing his +part in company with six placid Germans that Père Michaux first saw poor +Pierre, and recognizing a compatriot, spoke to him. Struck by the +pathetic misery of his face, he asked a few questions of the little +flute-player, listened to his story, and gave him the comfort and help +of sympathy and shillings, together with the sound of the old home +accents, sweetest of all to the dulled ears. When the time of enlistment +expired, Pierre came westward after his priest: Père Michaux had written +to him once or twice, and the ex-cook had preserved the letters as a +guide-book. He showed the heading and the postmark whenever he was at a +loss, and travelled blindly on, handed from one railway conductor to +another like a piece of animated luggage, until at last he was put on +board of a steamer, and, with some difficulty, carried westward; for the +sight of the water had convinced him that he was to be taken on some +unknown and terrible voyage. + +The good priest was surprised and touched to see the tears of the little +man, stained, weazened, and worn with travel and grief; he took him over +to the hermitage in his sharp-pointed boat, which skimmed the crests of +the waves, the two sails wing-and-wing, and Pierre sat in the bottom, +and held on with a death-grasp. As soon as his foot touched the shore, +he declared, with regained fluency, that he would never again enter a +boat, large or small, as long as he lived. He never did. In vain Père +Michaux represented to him that he could earn more money in a city, in +vain he offered to send him Eastward and place him with kind persons +speaking his own tongue, who would procure a good situation for him; +Pierre was obstinate. He listened, assented to all, but when the time +came refused to go. + +"Are you or are you not going to send us that cook of yours?" wrote +Father George at the end of two years. "This is the fifth time I have +made ready for him." + +"He will not go," replied Père Michaux at last; "it seems that I must +resign myself." + +"If your Père Michaux is handsomer than I am," said Dr. Gaston one day +to Anne, "it is because he has had something palatable to eat all this +time. In a long course of years saleratus tells." + +Père Michaux was indeed a man of noble bearing; his face, although +benign, wore an expression of authority, which came from the submissive +obedience of his flock, who loved him as a father and revered him as a +pope. His parish, a diocese in size, extended over the long point of the +southern mainland; over the many islands of the Straits, large and +small, some of them unnoted on the map, yet inhabited perhaps by a few +half-breeds, others dotted with Indian farms; over the village itself, +where stood the small weather-beaten old Church of St. Jean; and over +the dim blue line of northern coast, as far as eye could reach or priest +could go. His roadways were over the water, his carriage a boat; in the +winter, a sledge. He was priest, bishop, governor, judge, and physician; +his word was absolute. His party-colored flock referred all their +disputes to him, and abided by his decisions--questions of fishing-nets +as well as questions of conscience, cases of jealousy together with +cases of fever. He stood alone. He was not propped. He had the rare +leader's mind. Thrown away on that wild Northern border? Not any more +than Bishop Chase in Ohio, Captain John Smith in Virginia, or other +versatile and autocratic pioneers. Many a man can lead in cities and in +camps, among precedents and rules, but only a born leader can lead in a +wilderness where he must make his own rules and be his own precedent +every hour. + +The dogs trotted cheerfully, with all their bells ringing, round to the +back door. Old Pierre detested dogs, yet always fed them with a strange +sort of conscientiousness, partly from compassion, partly from fear. He +could never accustom himself to the trains. To draw, he said, was an +undoglike thing. To see the creatures rush by the island on a moonlight +night over the white ice, like dogs of a dream, was enough to make the +hair elevate itself. + +"Whose hair?" Rast had demanded. "Yours, or the dogs'?" For young +Pronando was a frequent visitor at the hermitage, not as pupil or member +of the flock, but as a candid young friend, admiring impartially both +the priest and his cook. + +"Hast thou brought me again all those wide-mouthed dogs, brigands of +unheard-of and never-to-be-satisfied emptiness, robbers of all things?" +demanded Pierre, appearing at the kitchen door, ladle in hand. Antoine's +leathery cheeks wrinkled themselves into a grin as he unharnessed his +team, all the dogs pawing and howling, and striving to be first at the +entrance of this domain of plenty. + +"Hold thyself quiet, René. Wilt thou take the very sledge in, Lebeau?" +he said, apostrophizing the leaders. But no sooner was the last strap +loosened than all the dogs by common consent rushed at and over the +little cook and into the kitchen in a manner which would have insured +them severe chastisement in any other kitchen in the diocese. Pierre +darted about among their gaunt yellow bodies, railing at them for +knocking down his pans, and calling upon all the saints to witness their +rapacity; but in the mean time he was gathering together quickly +fragments of whose choice and savory qualities René and Lebeau had +distinct remembrance, and the other dogs anticipation. They leaped and +danced round him on their awkward legs and shambling feet, bit and +barked at each other, and rolled on the floor in a heap. Anywhere else +the long whip would have curled round their lank ribs, but in old +Pierre's kitchen they knew they were safe. With a fiercely delivered and +eloquent selection from the strong expressions current in the Paris of +his youth, the little cook made his way through the snarling throng of +yellow backs and legs, and emptied his pan of fragments on the snow +outside. Forth rushed the dogs, and cast themselves in a solid mass upon +the little heap. + +"Hounds of Satan?" said Pierre. + +"They are, indeed," replied Antoine. "But leave them now, my friend, and +close the door, since warmth is a blessed gift." + +But Pierre still stood on the threshold, every now and then darting out +to administer a rap to the gluttons, or to pull forward the younger and +weaker ones. He presided with exactest justice over the whole repast, +and ended by bringing into the kitchen a forlorn and drearily ugly +young animal that had not obtained his share on account of the +preternaturally quick side snatchings of Lebeau. To this dog he now +presented an especial banquet in an earthen dish behind the door. + +"If there is anything I abhor, it is the animal called dog," he said, +seating himself at last, and wiping his forehead. + +"That is plainly evident," replied old Antoine, gravely. + +In the mean time, Anne, Tita, and the boys had thrown off their fur +cloaks, and entered the sitting-room. Père Michaux took his seat in his +large arm-chair near the hearth, Tita curled herself on a cushion at his +feet, and the boys sat together on a wooden bench, fidgeting uneasily, +and trying to recall a faint outline of their last lesson, while Anne +talked to the priest, warming first one of her shapely feet, then the +other, as she leaned against the mantel, inquiring after the health of +the birds, the squirrels, the fox, and the tame eagle, Père Michaux's +companions in his hermitage. The appearance of the room was peculiar, +yet picturesque and full of comfort. It was a long, low apartment, the +walls made warm in the winter with skins instead of tapestry, and the +floor carpeted with blankets; other skins lay before the table and fire +as mats. The furniture was rude, but cushioned and decorated, as were +likewise the curtains, in a fashion unique, by the hands of half-breed +women, who had vied with each other in the work; their primitive +embroidery, whose long stitches sprang to the centre of the curtain or +cushion, like the rays of a rising sun, and then back again, was as +unlike modern needle-work as the vase-pictured Egyptians, with eyes in +the sides of their heads, are like a modern photograph; their patterns, +too, had come down from the remote ages of the world called the New, +which is, however, as old as the continent across the seas. Guns and +fishing-tackle hung over the mantel, a lamp swung from the centre of the +ceiling, little singing-birds flew into and out of their open cages near +the windows, and the tame eagle sat solemnly on his perch at the far end +of the long room. The squirrels and the fox were visible in their +quarters, peeping out at the new-comers; but their front doors were +barred, for they had broken parole, and were at present in disgrace. The +ceiling was planked with wood, which had turned to a dark cinnamon hue; +the broad windows let in the sunshine on three sides during the day, and +at night were covered with heavy curtains, all save one, which had but a +single thickness of red cloth over the glass, with a candle behind which +burned all night, so that the red gleam shone far across the ice, like a +winter light-house for the frozen Straits. More than one despairing man, +lost in the cold and darkness, had caught its ray, and sought refuge, +with a thankful heart. The broad deep fire-place of this room was its +glory: the hearts of giant logs glowed there: it was a fire to dream of +on winter nights, a fire to paint on canvas for Christmas pictures to +hang on the walls of barren furnace-heated houses, a fire to remember +before that noisome thing, a close stove. Round this fire-place were set +like tiles rude bits of pottery found in the vicinity, remains of an +earlier race, which the half-breeds brought to Père Michaux whenever +their ploughs upturned them--arrow-heads, shells from the wilder +beaches, little green pebbles from Isle Royale, agates, and fragments of +fossils, the whole forming a rough mosaic, strong in its story of the +region. From two high shelves the fathers of the Church and the classics +of the world looked down upon this scene. But Père Michaux was no +bookworm; his books were men. The needs and faults of his flock absorbed +all his days, and, when the moon was bright, his evenings also. "There +goes Père Michaux," said the half-breeds, as the broad sail of his boat +went gleaming by in the summer night, or the sound of his sledge bells +came through their closed doors; "he has been to see the dying wife of +Jean," or "to carry medicine to François." On the wild nights and the +dark nights, when no one could stir abroad, the old priest lighted his +lamp, and fed his mind with its old-time nourishment. But he had nothing +modern; no newspapers. The nation was to him naught. He was one of a +small but distinctly marked class in America that have a distaste for +and disbelief in the present, its ideals, thoughts, and actions, and +turn for relief to the past; they represent a reaction. This class is +made up of foreigners like the priest, of native-born citizens with +artistic tastes who have lived much abroad, modern Tories who regret the +Revolution, High-Church Episcopalians who would like archbishops and an +Establishment, restless politicians who seek an empire--in all, a very +small number compared with the mass of the nation at large, and not +important enough to be counted at all numerically, yet not without its +influence. And not without its use too, its members serving their +country, unconsciously perhaps, but powerfully, by acting as a balance +to the self-asserting blatant conceit of the young nation--a drag on the +wheels of its too-rapidly speeding car. They are a sort of Mordecai at +the gate, and are no more disturbed than he was by being in a minority. +In any great crisis this element is fused with the rest at once, and +disappears; but in times of peace and prosperity up it comes again, and +lifts its scornful voice. + +Père Michaux occupied himself first with the boys. The religious +education of Louis, Gabriel, and André was not complex--a few plain +rules that three colts could have learned almost as well, provided they +had had speech. But the priest had the rare gift of holding the +attention of children while he talked with them, and thus the three boys +learned from him gradually and almost unconsciously the tenets of the +faith in which their young mother had lived and died. The rare gift of +holding the attention of boys--O poor Sunday-school teachers all over +the land, ye know how rare that gift is!--ye who must keep restless +little heads and hands quiet while some well-meaning but slow, +long-winded, four-syllabled man "addresses the children." It is +sometimes the superintendent, but more frequently a visitor, who beams +through his spectacles benevolently upon the little flock before him, +but has no more power over them than a penguin would have over a colony +of sparrows. + +But if the religion of the boys was simple, that of Tita was of a very +different nature; it was as complex, tortuous, unresting, as personal +and minute in detail, as some of those religious journals we have all +read, diaries of every thought, pen-photographs of every mood, wonderful +to read, but not always comfortable when translated into actual life, +where something less purely self-engrossed, if even less saintly, is apt +to make the household wheels run more smoothly. Tita's religious ideas +perplexed Anne, angered Miss Lois, and sometimes wearied even the priest +himself. The little creature aspired to be absolutely perfect, and she +was perfect in rule and form. Whatever was said to her in the way of +correction she turned and adjusted to suit herself; her mental ingenuity +was extraordinary. Anne listened to the child with wonder; but Père +Michaux understood and treated with kindly carelessness the strong +selfism, which he often encountered among older and deeply devout women, +but not often in a girl so young. Once the elder sister asked with some +anxiety if he thought Tita was tending toward conventual life. + +"Oh no," replied the old man, smiling; "anything but that." + +"But is she not remarkably devout?" + +"As Parisiennes in Lent." + +"But it is Lent with her all the year round." + +"That is because she has not seen Paris yet." + +"But we can not take her to Paris," said Anne, in perplexity. + +"What should I do if I had to reply to you always, mademoiselle?" said +the priest, smiling, and patting her head. + +"You mean that I am dull?" said Anne, a slight flush rising in her +cheeks. "I have often noticed that people thought me so." + +"I mean nothing of the kind. But by the side of your honesty we all +appear like tapers when the sun breaks in," said Père Michaux, +gallantly. Still, Anne could not help thinking that he did think her +dull. + +To-day she sat by the window, looking out over the ice. The boys, +dismissed from their bench, had, with the sagacity of the dogs, gone +immediately to the kitchen. The soft voice of Tita was repeating +something which sounded like a litany to the Virgin, full of mystic +phrases, a selection made by the child herself, the priest requiring no +such recitation, but listening, as usual, patiently, with his eyes half +closed, as the old-time school-teacher listened to Wirt's description of +Blennerhasset's Island. Père Michaux had no mystical tendencies. His +life was too busy; in the winter it was too cold, and in the summer the +sunshine was too brilliant, on his Northern island, for mystical +thoughts. At present, through Tita's recitation, his mind was occupied +with a poor fisherman's family over on the mainland, to whom on the +morrow he was going to send assistance. The three boys came round on the +outside, and peered through the windows to see whether the lesson was +finished. Anne ordered them back by gesture, for they were bareheaded, +and their little faces red with the cold. But they pressed their noses +against the panes, glared at Tita, and shook their fists. "It's all +ready," they said, in sepulchral tones, putting their mouths to the +crack under the sash, "and it's a pudding. Tell her to hurry up, Annet." + +But Tita's murmuring voice went steadily on, and the Protestant sister +would not interrupt the little Catholic's recitation; she shook her head +at the boys, and motioned to them to go back to the kitchen. But they +danced up and down to warm themselves, rubbed their little red ears with +their hands, and then returned to the crack, and roared in chorus, "Tell +her to hurry up; we shall not have time to eat it." + +"True," said Père Michaux, overhearing this triple remonstrance. "That +will do for to-day, Tita." + +"But I have not finished, my father." + +"Another time, child." + +"I shall recite it, then, at the next lesson, and learn besides as much +more; and the interruption was not of my making, but a crime of those +sacrilegious boys," said Tita, gathering her books together. The boys, +seeing Père Michaux rise from his chair, ran back round the house to +announce the tidings to Pierre; the priest came forward to the window. + +"That is the mail-train, is it not?" said Anne, looking at a black spot +coming up the Strait from the east. + +"It is due," said Père Michaux; "but the weather has been so cold that I +hardly expected it to-day." He took down a spy-glass, and looked at the +moving speck. "Yes, it is the train. I can see the dogs, and Denis +himself. I will go over to the village with you, I think. I expect +letters." + +Père Michaux's correspondence was large. From many a college and mission +station came letters to this hermit of the North, on subjects as various +as the writers: the flora of the region, its mineralogy, the Indians and +their history, the lost grave of Father Marquette (in these later days +said to have been found), the legends of the fur-trading times, the +existing commerce of the lakes, the fisheries, and kindred subjects were +mixed with discussions kept up with fellow Latin and Greek scholars +exiled at far-off Southern stations, with games of chess played by +letter, with recipes for sauces, and with humorous skirmishing with New +York priests on topics of the day, in which the Northern hermit often +had the best of it. + +A hurrah in the kitchen, an opening of doors, a clattering in the hall, +and the boys appeared, followed by old Pierre, bearing aloft a pudding +enveloped in steam, exhaling fragrance, and beautiful with raisins, +currants, and citron--rarities regarded by Louis, Gabriel, and André +with eager eyes. + +"But it was for your dinner," said Anne. + +"It is still for my dinner. But it would have lasted three days, and now +it will end its existence more honorably in one," replied the priest, +beginning to cut generous slices. + +Tita was the last to come forward. She felt herself obliged to set down +all the marks of her various recitations in a small note-book after each +lesson; she kept a careful record, and punished or rewarded herself +accordingly, the punishments being long readings from some religious +book in her corner, murmured generally half aloud, to the exasperation +of Miss Lois when she happened to be present, Miss Lois having a +vehement dislike for "sing-song." Indeed, the little, soft, persistent +murmur sometimes made even Anne think that the whole family bore their +part in Tita's religious penances. But what could be said to the child? +Was she not engaged in saving her soul? + +The marks being at last all set down, she took her share of pudding to +the fire, and ate it daintily and dreamily, enjoying it far more than +the boys, who swallowed too hastily; far more than Anne, who liked the +simplest food. The priest was the only one present who appreciated +Pierre's skill as Tita appreciated it. "It is délicieux," she said, +softly, replacing the spoon in the saucer, and leaning back against the +cushions with half-closed eyes. + +"Will you have some more, then?" said Anne. + +Tita shook her head, and waved away her sister impatiently. + +"She is as thorough an epicure as I am," said the priest, smiling; "it +takes away from the poetry of a dish to be asked to eat more." + +It was now time to start homeward, and Père Michaux's sledge made its +appearance, coming from a little islet near by. Old Pierre would not +have dogs upon his shores; yet he went over to the other island himself +every morning, at the expense of much time and trouble, to see that the +half-breed in charge had not neglected them. The result was that Père +Michaux's dogs were known as far as they could be seen by their fat +sides, the only rotundities in dog-flesh within a circle of five hundred +miles. Père Michaux wished to take Tita with him in his sledge, in order +that Anne might ride also; but the young girl declined with a smile, +saying that she liked the walk. + +"Do not wait for us, sir," she said; "your dogs can go much faster than +ours." + +But the priest preferred to make the journey in company with them; and +they all started together from the house door, where Pierre stood in his +red skull-cap, bowing farewell. The sledges glided down the little slope +to the beach, and shot out on the white ice, the two drivers keeping by +the side of their teams, the boys racing along in advance, and Anne +walking with her quick elastic step by the side of Père Michaux's +conveyance, talking to him with the animation which always came to her +in the open air. The color mounted in her cheeks; with her head held +erect she seemed to breathe with delight, and to rejoice in the clear +sky, the cold, the crisp sound of her own footsteps, while her eyes +followed the cliffs of the shore-line crowned with evergreens--savage +cliffs which the short summer could hardly soften. The sun sank toward +the west, the air grew colder; Tita drew the furs over her head, and +vanished from sight, riding along in her nest half asleep, listening to +the bells. The boys still ran and pranced, but more, perhaps, from a +sense of honor than from natural hilarity. They were more exact in +taking their turns in the sledge now, and more slow in coming out from +the furs upon call; still, they kept on. As the track turned little by +little, following the line of the shore, they came nearer to the +mail-train advancing rapidly from the east in a straight line. + +"Denis is determined to have a good supper and sleep to-night," said +Père Michaux; "no camp to make in the snow _this_ evening." Some minutes +later the mail-train passed, the gaunt old dogs which drew the sledge +never even turning their heads to gaze at the party, but keeping +straight on, having come in a direct line, without a break, from the +point, ten miles distant. The young dogs in Antoine's team pricked up +their ears, and betrayed a disposition to rush after the mail-train; +then René and Lebeau, after looking round once or twice, after turning +in their great paws more than usual as they walked, and holding back +resolutely, at length sat deliberately down on their haunches, and +stopped the sledge. + +"And thou art entirely right, René, and thou too, Lebeau," said old +Antoine. "To waste breath following a mail-train at a gallop is worthy +only of young-dog silliness." + +So saying he administered to the recreant members of the team enough +chastisement to make them forget the very existence of mail-trains, +while René and Lebeau waited composedly to see justice done; they then +rose in a dignified manner and started on, the younger dogs following +now with abject humility. As they came nearer the village the western +pass opened out before them, a long narrow vista of ice, with the dark +shore-line on each side, and the glow of the red sunset shining +strangely through, as though it came from a tropical country beyond. A +sledge was crossing down in the west--a moving speck; the scene was as +wild and arctic as if they had been travelling on Baffin's Bay. The busy +priest gave little attention to the scene, and the others in all the +winters of their lives had seen nothing else: to the Bedouins the great +desert is nothing. Anne noted every feature and hue of the picture, but +unconsciously. She saw it all, but without a comment. Still, she saw it. +She was to see it again many times in after-years--see it in cities, in +lighted drawing-rooms, in gladness and in sorrow, and more than once +through a mist of tears. + +Later in the evening, when the moon was shining brightly, and she was on +her way home from the church-house with Rast, she saw a sledge moving +toward the northern point. "There is Père Michaux, on his way home," she +said. Then, after a moment, "Do you know, Rast, he thinks me dull." + +"He would not if he had seen you this evening," replied her companion. + +A deep flush, visible even in the moonlight, came into the girl's face. +"Do not ask me to recite again," she pleaded; "I can not. You _must_ let +me do what I feel is right." + +"What is there wrong in reciting Shakspeare?" + +"I do not know. But something comes over me at times, and I am almost +swept away. I can not bear to think of the feeling." + +"Then don't," said Rast. + +"You do not understand me." + +"I don't believe you understand yourself; girls seldom do." + +"Why?" + +"Let me beg you not to fall into the power of that uncomfortable word, +Annet. Walters says women of the world never use it. They never ask a +single question." + +"But how can they learn, then?" + +"By observation," replied young Pronando, oracularly. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + "It was Peboan, the winter! + From his eyes the tears were flowing + As from melting lakes the streamlets, + And his body shrunk and dwindled + As the shouting sun ascended; + And the young man saw before him, + On the hearth-stone of the wigwam, + Where the fire had smoked and smouldered, + Saw the earliest flower of spring-time, + Saw the miskodeed in blossom. + Thus it was that in that Northland + Came the spring with all its splendor, + All its birds and all its blossoms, + All its flowers and leaves and grasses." + + --LONGFELLOW. _The Song of Hiawatha._ + + +On this Northern border Spring came late--came late, but in splendor. +She sent forward no couriers, no hints in the forest, no premonitions on +the winds. All at once she was there herself. Not a shy maid, timid, +pallid, hesitating, and turning back, but a full-blooming goddess and +woman. One might almost say that she was not Spring at all, but Summer. +The weeks called spring farther southward showed here but the shrinking +and fading of winter. First the snow crumbled to fine dry grayish +powder; then the ice grew porous and became honeycombed, and it was no +longer safe to cross the Straits; then the first birds came; then the +far-off smoke of a steamer could be seen above the point, and the +village wakened. In the same day the winter went and the summer came. + +On the highest point of the island were the remains of an old +earth-work, crowned by a little surveyor's station, like an arbor on +stilts, which was reached by the aid of a ladder. Anne liked to go up +there on the first spring day, climb the ice-coated rounds, and, +standing on the dry old snow that covered the floor, gaze off toward the +south and east, where people and cities were, and the spring; then +toward the north, where there was still only fast-bound ice and snow +stretching away over thousands of miles of almost unknown country, the +great wild northland called British America, traversed by the hunters +and trappers of the Hudson Bay Company--vast empire ruled by private +hands, a government within a government, its line of forts and posts +extending from James Bay to the Little Slave, from the Saskatchewan +northward to the Polar Sea. In the early afternoon she stood there now, +having made her way up to the height with some difficulty, for the +ice-crust was broken, and she was obliged to wade knee-deep through some +of the drifts, and go round others that were over her head, leaving a +trail behind her as crooked as a child's through a clover field. +Reaching the plateau on the summit at last, and avoiding the hidden pits +of the old earth-work, she climbed the icy ladder, and stood on the +white floor again with delight, brushing from her woollen skirt and +leggings the dry snow which still clung to them. The sun was so bright +and the air so exhilarating that she pushed back her little fur cap, and +drew a long breath of enjoyment. Everything below was still +white-covered--the island and village, the Straits and the mainland; but +coming round the eastern point four propellers could be seen floundering +in the loosened ice, heaving the porous cakes aside, butting with their +sharp high bows, and then backing briskly to get headway to start +forward again, thus breaking slowly a passageway for themselves, and +churning the black water behind until it boiled white as soap-suds as +the floating ice closed over it. Now one boat, finding by chance a +weakened spot, floundered through it without pause, and came out +triumphantly some distance in advance of the rest; then another, wakened +to new exertions by this sight, put on all steam, and went pounding +along with a crashing sound until her bows were on a line with the +first. The two boats left behind now started together with much +splashing and sputtering, and veering toward the shore, with the hope +of finding a new weak place in the floe, ran against hard ice with a +thud, and stopped short; then there was much backing out and floundering +round, the engines panting and the little bells ringing wildly, until +the old channel was reached, where they rested awhile, and then made +another beginning. These manoeuvres were repeated over and over again, +the passengers and crew of each boat laughing and chaffing each other as +they passed and repassed in the slow pounding race. It had happened more +than once that these first steamers had been frozen in after reaching +the Straits, and had been obliged to spend several days in company fast +bound in the ice. Then the passengers and crews visited each other, +climbing down the sides of the steamers and walking across. At that +early season the passengers were seldom pleasure-travellers, and +therefore they endured the delay philosophically. It is only the real +pleasure-traveller who has not one hour to spare. + +The steamers Anne now watched were the first from below. The lower lakes +were clear; it was only this northern Strait that still held the ice +together, and kept the fleets at bay on the east and on the west. +White-winged vessels, pioneers of the summer squadron, waited without +while the propellers turned their knife-bladed bows into the ice, and +cut a pathway through. Then word went down that the Straits were open, +all the freshwater fleet set sail, the lights were lit again in the +light-houses, and the fishing stations and lonely little wood docks came +to life. + +"How delightful it is!" said Anne, aloud. + +There are times when a person, although alone, does utter a sentence or +two, that is, thinks aloud; but such times are rare. And such sentences, +also, are short--exclamations. The long soliloquies of the stage, so +convenient in the elucidation of plot, do not occur in real life, where +we are left to guess at our neighbor's motives, untaught by so much as a +syllable. How fortunate for Dora's chances of happiness could she but +overhear that Alonzo thinks her a sweet, bigoted little fool, but wants +that very influence to keep him straight, nothing less than the intense +convictions of a limited intelligence and small experience in life being +of any use in sweeping him over with a rush by means of his feelings +alone, which is what he is hoping for. Having worn out all the pleasure +there is to be had in this world, he has now a mind to try for the next. + +What an escape for young Conrad to learn from Honoria's own passionate +soliloquy that she is marrying him from bitterest rage against Manuel, +and that those tones and looks that have made him happy are second-hand +wares, which she flings from her voice and eyes with desperate scorn! +Still, we must believe that Nature knows what she is about; and she has +not as yet taught us to think aloud. + +But sometimes, when the air is peculiarly exhilarating, when a distant +mountain grows purple and gold tipped as the sun goes down behind it, +sometimes when we see the wide ocean suddenly, or come upon a bed of +violets, we utter an exclamation as the bird sings: we hardly know we +have spoken. + +"Yes, it _is_ delightful," said some one below, replying to the girl's +sentence. + +It was Rast, who had come across the plateau unseen, and was now +standing on the old bastion of the fort beneath her. Anne smiled, then +turned as if to descend. + +"Wait; I am coming up," said Rast. + +"But it is time to go home." + +"Apparently it was not time until I came," said the youth, swinging +himself up without the aid of the ladder, and standing by her side. +"What are you looking at? Those steamers?" + +"Yes, and the spring, and the air." + +"You can not see the air." + +"But I can feel it; it is delicious. I wonder, if we should go far away, +Rast, and see tropical skies, slow rivers, great white lilies, and +palms, whether they would seem more beautiful than this?" + +"Of course they would; and we are going some day. We are not intending +to stay here on this island all our lives, I hope." + +"But it is our home, and I love it. I love this water and these woods, I +love the flash of the light-houses, and the rushing sound the vessels +make sweeping by at night under full sail, close in shore." + +"The island is well enough in its way, but there are other places; and +I, for one, mean to see the world," said young Pronando, taking off his +cap, throwing it up, and catching it like a ball. + +"Yes, you will see the world," answered Anne; "but I shall stay here. +You must write and tell me all about it." + +"Of course," said Rast, sending the cap up twice as high, and catching +it with unerring hand. Then he stopped his play, and said, suddenly, +"Will you care very much when I am gone away?" + +"Yes," said Anne; "I shall be very lonely." + +"But shall you care?" said the youth, insistently. "You have so little +feeling, Annet; you are always cold." + +"I shall be colder still if we stay here any longer," said the girl, +turning to descend. Rast followed her, and they crossed the plateau +together. + +"How much shall you care?" he repeated. "You never say things out, +Annet. You are like a stone." + +[Illustration: "AND IT ENDED IN THEIR RACING DOWN TOGETHER."] + +"Then throw me away," answered the girl, lightly. But there was a +moisture in her eyes and a slight tremor in her voice which Rast +understood, or, rather, thought he understood. He took her hand and +pressed it warmly; the two fur gloves made the action awkward, but he +would not loosen his hold. His spirits rose, and he began to laugh, and +to drag his companion along at a rapid pace. They reached the edge of +the hill, and the steep descent opened before them; the girl's +remonstrances were in vain, and it ended in their racing down together +at a break-neck pace, reaching the bottom, laughing and breathless, like +two school-children. They were now on the second plateau, the level +proper of the island above the cliffs, which, high and precipitous on +three sides, sank down gradually to the southwestern shore, so that +one might land there, and drag a cannon up to the old earth work on the +summit--a feat once performed by British soldiers in the days when the +powers of the Old World were still fighting with each other for the New. +How quaint they now seem, those ancient proclamations and documents with +which a Spanish king grandly meted out this country from Maine to +Florida, an English queen divided the same with sweeping patents from +East to West, and a French monarch, following after, regranted the whole +virgin soil on which the banners of France were to be planted with +solemn Christian ceremony! They all took possession; they all planted +banners. Some of the brass plates they buried are turned up occasionally +at the present day by the farmer's plough, and, wiping his forehead, he +stops to spell out their high-sounding words, while his sunburned boys +look curiously over his shoulder. A place in the county museum is all +they are worth now. + +Anne Douglas and Rast went through the fort grounds and down the hill +path, instead of going round by the road. The fort ladies, sitting by +their low windows, saw them, and commented. + +"That girl does not appreciate young Pronando," said Mrs. Cromer. "I +doubt if she even sees his beauty." + +"Perhaps it is just as well that she does not," replied Mrs. Rankin, +"for he must go away and live his life, of course; have his adventures." + +"Why not she also?" said Mrs. Bryden, smiling. + +"In the first place, she has no choice; she is tied down here. In the +second, she is a good sort of girl, without imagination or enthusiasm. +Her idea of life is to marry, have meat three times a week, fish three +times, lights out at ten o'clock, and, by way of literature, Miss +Edgeworth's novels and Macaulay's _History of England_." + +"And a very good idea," said Mrs. Bryden. + +"Certainly, only one can not call that adventures." + +"But even such girls come upon adventures sometimes," said Mrs. Cromer. + +"Yes, when they have beauty. Their beauty seems often to have an +extraordinary power over the most poetical and imaginative men, too, +strange as it may appear. But Anne Douglas has none of it." + +"How you all misunderstand her!" said a voice from the little +dining-room opening into the parlor, its doorway screened by a curtain. + +"Ah, doctor, are you there?" said Mrs. Bryden. "We should not have said +a word if we had known it." + +"Yes, madam, I am here--with the colonel; but it is only this moment +that I have lifted my head to listen to your conversation, and I remain +filled with astonishment, as usual, at the obtuseness manifested by your +sex regarding each other." + +"Hear! hear!" said the colonel. + +"Anne Douglas," continued the chaplain, clearing his throat, and +beginning in a high chanting voice, which they all knew well, having +heard it declaiming on various subjects during long snow-bound winter +evenings, "is a most unusual girl." + +"Oh, come in here, doctor, and take a seat; it will be hard work to say +it all through that doorway," called Mrs. Bryden. + +"No, madam, I will not sit down," said the chaplain, appearing under the +curtain, his brown wig awry, his finger impressively pointed. "I will +simply say this, namely, that as to Anne Douglas, you are all mistaken." + +"And who is to be the judge between us?" + +"The future, madam." + +"Very well; we will leave it to the future, then," said Mrs. Bryden, +skillfully evading the expected oration. + +"We may safely do that, madam--safely indeed; the only difficulty is +that we may not live to see it." + +"Oh, a woman's future is always near at hand, doctor. Besides, we are +not so very old ourselves." + +"True, madam--happily true for all the eyes that rest upon you. +Nevertheless, the other side, I opine, is likewise true, namely, that +Anne Douglas is very young." + +"She is sixteen; and I myself am only twenty," said Mrs. Rankin. + +"With due respect, ladies, I must mention that not one of you was ever +in her life so young as Anne Douglas at the present moment." + +"What in the world do you mean, doctor?" + +"What I say. I can see you all as children in my mind's eye," continued +the chaplain, unflinchingly; "pretty, bright, precocious little +creatures, finely finished, finely dressed, quick-witted, graceful, and +bewitching. But at that age Anne Douglas was a--" + +"Well, what?" + +"A mollusk," said the chaplain, bringing out the word emphatically. + +"And what is she now, doctor?" + +"A promise." + +"To be magnificently fulfilled in the future?" + +"That depends upon fate, madam; or rather circumstances." + +"For my part, I would rather be fulfilled, although not perhaps +magnificently, than remain even the most glorious promise," said Mrs. +Rankin, laughing. + +The fort ladies liked the old chaplain, and endured his long monologues +by adding to them running accompaniments of their own. To bright society +women there is nothing so unendurable as long arguments or dissertations +on one subject. Whether from want of mental training, or from impatience +of delay, they are unwilling to follow any one line of thought for more +than a minute or two; they love to skim at random, to light and fly away +again, to hover, to poise, and then dart upward into space like so many +humming-birds. Listen to a circle of them sitting chatting over their +embroidery round the fire or on a piazza; no man with a thoroughly +masculine mind can follow them in their mental dartings hither and +thither. He has just brought his thoughts to bear upon a subject, and is +collecting what he is going to say, when, behold! they are miles away, +and he would be considered stupid to attempt to bring them back. His +mental processes are slow and lumbering compared with theirs. And when, +once in a while, a woman appears who likes to search out a subject, she +finds herself out of place and bewildered too, often a target for the +quick tongues and light ridicule of her companions. If she likes to +generalize, she is lost. Her companions never wish to generalize; they +want to know not the general view of a subject, but what Mrs. Blank or +Mr. Star thinks of it. Parents, if you have a daughter of this kind, see +that she spends in her youth a good portion of every day with the most +volatile swift-tongued maidens you can find; otherwise you leave her +without the current coin of the realm in which she must live and die, +and no matter if she be fairly a gold mine herself, her wealth is +unavailable. + +Spring burst upon the island with sudden glory; the maples showed all at +once a thousand perfect little leaflets, the rings of the juniper +brightened, the wild larches beckoned with their long green fingers from +the height. The ice was gone, the snow was gone, no one knew whither; +the Straits were dotted with white sails. Bluebells appeared, swinging +on their hair-like stems where late the icicles hung, and every little +Indian farm set to work with vigor, knowing that the time was short. The +soldiers from the fort dug in the military garden under the cliff, +turning up the mould in long ridges, and pausing to hang up their coats +on the old stockade with a finely important air of heat: it was so long +since they had been too warm! The little village was broad awake now; +there was shipping at the piers again, and a demand for white-fish; all +the fishing-boats were out, and their half-breed crews hard at work. The +violins hung unused on the walls of the little cabins that faced the +west, for the winter was ended, and the husbands and lovers were off on +the water: the summer was their time for toil. + +And now came the parting. Rast was to leave the island, and enter the +Western college which Dr. Gaston had selected for him. The chaplain +would have sent the boy over to England at once to his own _alma mater_ +had it been possible; but it was not possible, and the good man knew +little or nothing of the degree of excellence possessed by American +colleges, East or West. Harvard and Yale and old Columbia would not have +believed this; yet it was true. + +Rast was in high spirits; the brilliant world seemed opening before him. +Everything in his life was as he wished it to be; and he was not +disturbed by any realization that this was a rare condition of affairs +which might never occur again. He was young, buoyant, and beautiful; +everybody liked him, and he liked everybody. He was going to set sail +into his far bright future, and he would find, probably, an island of +silver and diamonds, with peacocks walking slowly about spreading their +gorgeous feathers, and pleasure-boats at hand with silken sails and +golden oars. It was not identically this that he dreamed, but things +equally shining and unattainable--that is, to such a nature as his. The +silver and diamond islands are there, but by a law of equalization only +hard-featured prosaic men attain them and take possession, forming +thereafterward a lasting contrast to their own surroundings, which then +goes into the other scale, and amuses forever the poverty-stricken poets +who, in their poor old boats, with ragged canvas and some small ballast +of guitars and lutes, sail by, eating their crusts and laughing at them. + +"I shall not go one step, even now, unless you promise to write +regularly, Annet," said Rast, the evening before his departure, as they +stood together on the old piazza of the Agency watching for the lights +of the steamer which was to carry him away. + +"Of course I shall write, Rast; once a week always." + +"No; I wish no set times fixed. You are simply to promise that you will +immediately answer every letter _I_ write." + +"I will answer; but as to the time--I may not always be able--" + +"You may if you choose; and I will not go unless you promise," said +Rast, with irritation. "Do you want to spoil everything, my education +and all my future? I would not be so selfish, Annet, if I were you. What +is it I ask? A trifle. I have no father, no mother, no sister; only you. +I am going away for the first time in my life, and you grudge me a +letter!" + +"Not a letter, Rast, but a promise; lest I might not be able to fulfill +it. I only meant that something might happen in the house which would +keep me from answering within the hour, and then my promise would be +broken. I will always answer as soon as I can." + +"You will not fail me, then?" + +The girl held out her hand and clasped his with a warm, honest pressure; +he turned and looked at her in the starlight. "God bless you for your +dear sincere eyes!" he said. "The devil himself would believe you." + +"I hope he would," said Anne, smiling. + +What with Miss Lois's Calvinism, and the terrific picture of his Satanic +Majesty at the death-bed of the wicked in the old Catholic church, the +two, as children, had often talked about the devil and his +characteristics, Rast being sure that some day he should see him. Miss +Lois, overhearing this, agreed with the lad dryly, much to Anne's +dismay. + +"What is the use of the devil?" she had once demanded. + +"To punish the wicked," answered Miss Lois. + +"Does he enjoy it?" + +"I suppose he does." + +"Then he must be very wicked himself?" + +"He is." + +"Who created him?" + +"You know as well as I do, Anne. God created him, of course." + +"Well," said the child, after a silence, going as usual to the root of +the matter, "I don't think _I_ should have made him at all if I couldn't +have made him better." + +The next morning the sun rose as usual, but Rast was gone. Anne felt a +loneliness she had never felt before in all her life. For Rast had been +her companion; hardly a day had passed without his step on the piazza, +his voice in the hall, a walk with him or a sail; and always, whether at +home or abroad, the constant accompaniment of his suggestions, his +fault-findings, his teachings, his teasings, his grumblings, his +laughter and merry nonsense, the whole made bearable--nay, even +pleasant--by the affection that lay underneath. Anne Douglas's nature +was faithful to an extraordinary degree, faithful to its promises, its +duties, its love; but it was an intuitive faithfulness, which never +thought about itself at all. Those persons who are in the habit of +explaining voluminously to themselves and everybody else the lines of +argument, the struggles, and triumphant conclusions reached by their +various virtues, would have considered this girl's mind but a poor dull +thing, for Anne never analyzed herself at all. She had never lived for +herself or in herself, and it was that which gave the tinge of coldness +that was noticed in her. For warm-heartedness generally begins at home, +and those who are warm to others are warmer to themselves; it is but the +overflow. + +Meantime young Pronando, sailing southward, felt his spirits rise with +every shining mile. Loneliness is crowded out of the mind of the one who +goes by the myriad images of travel; it is the one who stays who +suffers. But there was much to be done at the Agency. The boys grew out +of their clothes, the old furniture fell to pieces, and the father +seemed more lost to the present with every day and hour. He gave less +and less attention to the wants of the household, and at last Anne and +Miss Lois together managed everything without troubling him even by a +question. For strange patience have loving women ever had with dreamers +like William Douglas--men who, viewed by the eyes of the world, are +useless and incompetent; tears are shed over their graves oftentimes +long after the successful are forgotten. For personally there is a +sweetness and gentleness in their natures which make them very dear to +the women who love them. The successful man, perhaps, would not care for +such love, which is half devotion, half protection; the successful man +wishes to domineer. But as he grows old he notices that Jane is always +quiet when the peach-trees are in bloom, and that gray-haired sister +Catherine always bends down her head and weeps silently whenever the +choir sings "Rockingham"; and then he remembers who it was that died +when the peach-trees showed their blossoms, and who it was who went +about humming "Rockingham," and understands. Yet always with a slow +surprise, and a wonder at women's ways, since both the men were, to his +idea, failures in the world and their generation. + +Any other woman of Miss Lois's age and strict prudence, having general +charge of the Douglas household, would have required from Anne long ago +that she should ask her father plainly what were his resources and his +income. To a cent were all the affairs of the church-house regulated and +balanced; Miss Lois would have been unhappy at the end of the week if a +penny remained unaccounted for. Yet she said nothing to the daughter, +nothing to the father, although noticing all the time that the small +provision was no larger, while the boys grew like reeds, and the time +was at hand when more must be done for them. William Douglas's way was +to give Anne at the beginning of each week a certain sum. This he had +done as far back as his daughter could remember, and she had spent it +under the direction of Miss Lois. Now, being older, she laid it out +without much advice from her mentor, but began to feel troubled because +it did not go as far. "It goes as far," said Miss Lois, "but the boys +have gone farther." + +"Poor little fellows! they must eat." + +"And they must work." + +"But what can they do at their age, Miss Lois?" + +"Form habits," replied the New England woman, sternly. "In my opinion +the crying evil of the country to-day is that the boys are not trained; +educated, I grant you, but not trained--trained as they were when times +were simpler, and the rod in use. Parents are too ambitious; the +mechanic wishes to make his sons merchants, the merchant wishes to make +his gentlemen; but, while educating them and pushing them forward, the +parents forget the homely habits of patient labor, strict veracity in +thought and action, and stern self-denials which have given _them_ their +measure of success, and so between the two stools the poor boys fall to +the ground. It is my opinion," added Miss Lois, decisively, "that, +whether you want to build the Capitol at Washington or a red barn, you +must first have a firm foundation." + +"Yes, I know," replied Anne. "And I _do_ try to control them." + +"Oh, General Putnam! _you_ try!" said Miss Lois. "Why, you spoil them +like babies." + +Anne always gave up the point when Miss Lois reverted to Putnam. This +Revolutionary hero, now principally known, like Romulus, by a wolf +story, was the old maid's glory and remote ancestor, and helped her over +occasional necessities for strong expressions with ancestral kindness. +She felt like reverting to him more than once that summer, because, Rast +having gone, there was less of a whirlwind of out-door life, of pleasure +in the woods and on the water, and the plain bare state of things stood +clearly revealed. Anne fell behind every month with the household +expenses in spite of all her efforts, and every month Miss Lois herself +made up the deficiency. The boys were larger, and careless. The old +house yawned itself apart. Of necessity the gap between the income and +the expenditure must grow wider and wider. Anne did not realize this, +but Miss Lois did. The young girl thought each month that she must have +been unusually extravagant; she counted in some item as an extra expense +which would not occur again, gave up something for herself, and began +anew with fresh hope. On almost all subjects Miss Lois had the smallest +amount of patience for what she called blindness, but on this she was +silent. Now and then her eyes would follow Anne's father with a troubled +gaze; but if he looked toward her or spoke, she at once assumed her +usual brisk manner, and was even more cheerful than usual. Thus, the +mentor being silent, the family drifted on. + +The short Northern summer, with its intense sunshine and its cool +nights, was now upon them. Fire crackled upon the hearth of the Agency +sitting-room in the early morning, but it died out about ten o'clock, +and from that time until five in the afternoon the heat and the +brightness were peculiarly brilliant and intense. It seemed as though +the white cliffs must take fire and smoulder in places where they were +without trees to cover them; to climb up and sit there was to feel the +earth burning under you, and to be penetrated with a sun-bath of rays +beating straight down through the clear air like white shafts. And yet +there was nothing resembling the lowland heats in this atmosphere, for +all the time a breeze blew, ruffling the Straits, and bearing the +vessels swiftly on to the east and the west on long tacks, making the +leaves in the woods flutter on their branchlets, and keeping the +wild-brier bushes, growing on angles and points of the cliff, stretched +out like long whip-cords wreathed in pink and green. There was nothing, +too, of the stillness of the lowlands, for always one could hear the +rustling and laughing of the forest, and the wash of the water on the +pebbly beach. There were seldom any clouds in the summer sky, and those +that were there were never of that soft, high-piled white downiness that +belongs to summer clouds farther south. They came up in the west at +evening in time for the sunset, or they lay along the east in the early +morning, but they did not drift over the zenith in white laziness at +noontide, or come together violently in sudden thunder-storms. They were +sober clouds of quiet hue, and they seemed to know that they were not to +have a prominent place in the summer procession of night, noon, and +morning in that Northern sky, as though there was a law that the sun +should have uninterrupted sway during the short season allotted to him. +Anne walked in the woods as usual, but not far. Rast was gone. Rast +always hurried everybody; left alone, she wandered slowly through the +aisles of the arbor vitæ on the southern heights. The close ranks of +these trees hardly made what is called a grove, for the flat green plats +of foliage rose straight into the air, and did not arch or mingle with +each other; a person walking there could always see the open sky above. +But so dense was the thickness on each side that though the little paths +with which the wood was intersected often ran close to each other, +sometimes side by side, persons following them had no suspicion of each +other's presence unless their voices betrayed them. In the hot sun the +trees exhaled a strong aromatic fragrance, and as the currents of air +did not penetrate their low green-walled aisles, it rested there, +although up above everything was dancing along--butterflies, petals of +the brier, waifs and strays from the forest, borne lakeward on the +strong breeze. The atmosphere in these paths was so hot, still, and +aromatic that now and then Anne loved to go there and steep herself in +it. She used to tell Miss Lois that it made her feel as though she was +an Egyptian princess who had been swathed in precious gums and spices +for a thousand years. + +Over on the other side of the island grew the great pines. These had two +deeply worn Indian trails leading through them from north to south, not +aimless, wandering little paths like those through the arbor vitæ, but +one straight track from the village to the western shore, and another +leading down to the spring on the beach. The cliffs on whose summit +these pines grew were high and precipitous, overlooking deep water; a +vessel could have sailed by so near the shore that a pebble thrown from +above would have dropped upon her deck. With one arm round an old trunk, +Anne often sat on the edge of these cliffs, looking down through the +western pass. She had never felt any desire to leave the island, save +that sometimes she had vague dreams of the tropics--visions of +palm-trees and white lilies, the Pyramids and minarets, as fantastic as +her dreams of Shakspeare. But she loved the island and the island trees; +she loved the wild larches, the tall spires of the spruces bossed with +lighter green, the gray pines, and the rings of the juniper. She had a +peculiar feeling about trees. When she was a little girl she used to +whisper to them how much she loved them, and even now she felt that they +noticed her. Several times since these recent beginnings of care she had +turned back and gone over part of the path a second time, because she +felt that she had not been as observant as usual of her old friends, and +that they would be grieved by the inattention. But this she never told. + +There was, however, less and less time for walking in the woods; there +was much to do at home, and she was faithful in doing it: every spring +of the little household machinery felt her hand upon it, keeping it in +order. The clothes she made for Tita and the boys, the dinners she +provided from scanty materials, the locks and latches she improvised, +the paint she mixed and applied, the cheerfulness and spirit with which +she labored on day after day, were evidences of a great courage and +unselfishness; and if the garments were not always successful as regards +shape, nor the dinners always good, she was not disheartened, but bore +the fault-findings cheerfully, promising to do better another time. For +they all found fault with her, the boys loudly, Tita quietly, but with a +calm pertinacity that always gained its little point. Even Miss Lois +thought sometimes that Anne was careless, and told her so. For Miss Lois +never concealed her light under a bushel. The New England woman believed +that household labor held the first place among a woman's duties and +privileges; and if the housekeeper spent fourteen hours out of the +twenty-four in her task, she was but fulfilling her destiny as her +Creator had intended. Anne was careless in the matter of piece-bags, +having only two, whereas four, for linen and cotton, colors and black +materials, were, as every one knew, absolutely necessary. There was also +the systematic halving of sheets and resewing them at the first signs of +wear somewhat neglected, and also a particularity as to the saving of +string. Even the vaguely lost, thought-wandering father, too, finding +that his comforts diminished, spoke of it, not with complaint so much as +surprise; and then the daughter restored what he had missed at any +sacrifice. All this was done without the recognition by anybody that it +was much to do. Anne did not think of it in that way, and no one thought +for her. For they were all so accustomed to her strong, cheerful spirit +that they took what she did as a matter of course. Dr. Gaston understood +something of the life led at the Agency; but he too had fallen into a +way of resting upon the girl. She took a rapid survey of his small +housekeeping whenever she came up to his cottage for a lesson, which was +not as often now as formerly, owing to her manifold home duties. But +Père Michaux shook his head. He believed that all should live their +lives, and that one should not be a slave to others; that the young +should be young, and that some natural simple pleasure should be put +into each twenty-four hours. To all his flock he preached this doctrine. +They might be poor, but children should be made happy; they might be +poor, but youth should not be overwhelmed with the elders' cares; they +might be poor, but they could have family love round the poorest +hearthstone; and there was always time for a little pleasure, if they +would seek it simply and moderately. The fine robust old man lived in an +atmosphere above the subtleties of his leaner brethren in cities farther +southward, and he was left untrammelled in his water diocese. Privileges +are allowed to scouts preceding the army in an Indian country, because +it is not every man who can be a scout. Not but that the old priest +understood the mysteries, the introverted gaze, and indwelling thoughts +that belong to one side of his religion; they were a part of his +experience, and he knew their beauty and their dangers. They were good +for some minds, he said; but it was a strange fact, which he had proved +more than once during the long course of his ministry, that the minds +which needed them the least loved them the most dearly, revelled in +them, and clung to them with pertinacity, in spite of his efforts to +turn them into more practical channels. + +In all his broad parish he had no penitent so long-winded, exhaustive, +and self-centred as little Tita. He took excellent care of the child, +was very patient with her small ceremonies and solemnities, tried gently +to lead her aright, and, with rare wisdom, in her own way, not his. But +through it all, in his frequent visits to the Agency, and in the visits +of the Douglas family to the hermitage, his real interest was centred in +the Protestant sister, the tall unconscious young girl who had not yet, +as he said to himself, begun to live. He shook his head often as he +thought of her. "In France, even in England, she would be guarded," he +said to himself; "but here! It is an excellent country, this America of +theirs, for the pioneer, the New-Englander, the adventurer, and the +farmer; but for a girl like Anne? No." And then, if Anne was present, +and happened to meet his eye, she smiled back so frankly that he forgot +his fears. "After all, I suppose there are hundreds of such girls in +this country of theirs," he admitted, in a grumbling way, to his French +mind, "coming up like flowers everywhere, without any guardianship at +all. But it is all wrong, all wrong." + +The priest generally placed America as a nation in the hands of +possessive pronouns of the third person plural; it was a safe way of +avoiding responsibility, and of being as scornful, without offending any +one, as he pleased. One must have some outlet. + +The summer wore on. Rast wrote frequently, and Anne, writing the first +letters of her life in reply, found that she liked to write. She saved +in her memory all kinds of things to tell him: about their favorite +trees, about the birds that had nests in the garden that season, about +the fishermen and their luck, about the unusual quantity of raspberries +on the mainland, about the boys, about Tita. Something, too, about Bacon +and Sir Thomas Browne, selections from whose volumes she was now reading +under the direction of the chaplain. But she never put down any of her +own thoughts, opinions, or feelings: her letters were curious examples +of purely impersonal objective writing. Egotism, the under-current of +most long letters as of most long conversations also, the telling of how +this or that was due to us, affected us, was regarded by us, was +prophesied, was commended, was objected to, was feared, was thoroughly +understood, was held in restraint, was despised or scorned by us, and +all our opinions on the subject, which, however important in itself, we +present always surrounded by a large indefinite aureola of our own +personality--this was entirely wanting in Anne Douglas's letters and +conversation. Perhaps if she had had a girl friend of her own age she +might have exchanged with her those little confidences, speculations, +and fancies which are the first steps toward independent thought, those +mazy whispered discussions in which girls delight, the beginnings of +poetry and romance, the beginnings, in fact, of their own personal +individual consciousness and life. But she had only Rast, and that was +not the same thing. Rast always took the lead; and he had so many +opinions of his own that there was no time to discuss, or even inquire +about, hers. + +In the mean time young Pronando was growing into manhood at the rate of +a year in a month. His handsome face, fine bearing, generous ways, and +incessant activity both of limb and brain gave him a leader's place +among the Western students, who studied well, were careless in dress and +manner, spent their money, according to the Western fashion, like +princes, and had a peculiar dry humor of their own, delivered with +lantern-jawed solemnity. + +Young Pronando's preparation for college had been far better than that +of most of his companions, owing to Dr. Gaston's care. The boy +apprehended with great rapidity--apprehended perhaps more than he +comprehended: he did not take the time to comprehend. He floated lightly +down the stream of college life. His comrades liked him; the young +Western professors, quick, unceremonious, practical men, were constantly +running against little rocks which showed a better training than their +own, and were therefore shy about finding fault with him; and the old +president, an Eastern man, listened furtively to his Oxford +pronunciation of Greek, and sighed in spite of himself and his large +salary, hating the new bare white-painted flourishing institution over +which he presided with a fresher hatred--the hatred of an exile. For +there was not a tree on the college grounds: Young America always cuts +down all his trees as a first step toward civilization; then, after an +interregnum, when all the kings of the forest have been laid low, he +sets out small saplings in whitewashed tree-boxes, and watches and tends +them with fervor. + +Rast learned rapidly--more things than one. The school for girls, which, +singularly enough, in American towns, is always found flourishing close +under the walls of a college, on the excellent and heroic principle, +perhaps, of resisting temptation rather than fleeing from it, was +situated here at convenient distance for a variety of strict rules on +both sides, which gave interest and excitement to the day. Every +morning Miss Corinna Haws and her sister girded themselves for the +contest with fresh-rubbed spectacles and vigilance, and every morning +the girls eluded them; that is, some of the girls, namely, Louise Ray +and Kate and Fanny Meadows, cousins, rivals, and beauties of the Western +river-country type, where the full life and languor of the South have +fused somewhat the old inherited New England delicacy and fragile +contours. These three young girls were all interested in handsome Rast +in their fanciful, innocent, sentimental way. They glanced at him +furtively in church on Sunday; they took walks of miles to catch a +distant glimpse of him; but they would have run away like frightened +fawns if he had approached nearer. They wrote notes which they never +sent, but carried in their pockets for days; they had deep secrets to +tell each other about how they had heard that somebody had told somebody +else that the Juniors were going to play ball that afternoon in Payne's +meadow, and that if they could only persuade Miss Miriam to go round by +the hill, they could see them, and not so very far off either, only two +wheat fields and the river between. Miss Miriam was the second Miss +Haws, good-tempered and--near-sighted. + +That the three girls were interested in one and the same person was part +of the pleasure of the affair; each would have considered it a very +dreary amusement to be interested all alone. The event of the summer, +the comet of that season's sky, was an invitation to a small party in +the town, where it was understood that young Pronando, with five or six +of his companions, would be present. Miss Haws accepted occasional +invitations for her pupils, marshalling them in a bevy, herself robed in +pea-green silk, like an ancient mermaid: she said that it gave them +dignity. It did. The stern dignity and silence almost solemn displayed +by Rast's three worshippers when they found themselves actually in the +same room with him were something preternatural. They moved stiffly, as +if their elbows and ankles were out of joint; they spoke to each other +cautiously in the lowest whispers, with their under jaws rigid, and a +difficulty with their labials; they moved their eyes carefully +everywhere save toward the point where he was standing, yet knew exactly +where he was every moment of the time. When he approached the quadrille +which was formed in one corner by Miss Haws's young ladies, dancing +virginally by themselves, they squeezed each others' hands convulsively +when they passed in "ladies' chain," in token of the great fact that he +was looking on. When, after the dance, they walked up and down in the +hall, arm in arm, they trod upon each other's slippers as sympathetic +perception of the intensity of his presence on the stairs. What an +evening! How crowded full of emotions! Yet the outward appearance was +simply that of three shy, awkward girls in white muslin, keeping close +together, and as far as possible from a handsome, gay-hearted, +fast-talking youth who never once noticed them. O the imaginative, +happy, shy fancies of foolish school-girls! It is a question whether the +real love which comes later ever yields that wild, fairy-like romance +which these early attachments exhale; the very element of reality +weights it down, and makes it less heavenly fair. + +At the end of the summer Rast had acquired a deep experience in life (so +he thought), a downy little golden mustache, and a better opinion of +himself than ever. The world is very kind to a handsome boy of frank and +spirited bearing, one who looks as though he intended to mount and ride +to victory. The proud vigor of such a youth is pleasant to tired eyes; +he is so sure he will succeed! And most persons older, although knowing +the world better and not so sure, give him as he passes a smile and +friendly word, and wish him godspeed. It is not quite fair, perhaps, to +other youths of equal merit but another bearing, yet Nature orders it +so. The handsome, strong, confident boy who looks her in the face with +daring courage wins from her always a fine starting-place in the race of +life, which seems to advance him far beyond his companions. Seems; but +the end is far away. + +Rast did not return to the island during the summer vacation; Dr. Gaston +wished him to continue his studies with a tutor, and as the little +college town was now radiant with a mild summer gayety, the young man +was willing to remain. He wrote to Anne frequently, giving abstracts of +his life, lists of little events like statistics in a report. He did +this regularly, and omitted nothing, for the letters were his +conscience. When they were once written and sent, however, off he went +to new pleasures. It must be added as well that he always sought the +post-office eagerly for Anne's replies, and placed them in his pocket +with satisfaction. They were sometimes unread, or half read, for days, +awaiting a convenient season, but they were there. + +Anne's letters were long, they were pleasant, they were never +exciting--the very kind to keep; like friends who last a lifetime, but +who never give us one quickened pulse. Alone in his room, or stretched +on the grass under a tree, reading them, Rast felt himself strongly +carried back to his old life on the island, and he did not resist the +feeling. His plans for the future were as yet vague, but Anne was always +a part of his dream. + +But this youth lived so vigorously and fully and happily in the present +that there was not much time for the future and for dreams. He seldom +thought. What other people thought, he felt. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + "Into the Silent Land! + Ah! who shall lead us thither? + Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather, + And shattered wrecks lie thicker on the strand. + Who leads us with a gentle hand + Thither, O thither, + Into the Silent Land? + + "O Land, O Land, + For all the broken-hearted, + The mildest herald by our fate allotted + Beckons, and with inverted torch doth stand + To lead us with a gentle hand + To the land of the great Departed-- + Into the Silent Land!" + + --LONGFELLOW. _From the German._ + + +Early in September William Douglas failed suddenly. From taciturnity he +sank into silence, from quiet into lethargy. He rose in the morning, but +after that effort he became like a breathing statue, and sat all day in +his arm-chair without stirring or noticing anything. If they brought him +food he ate it, but he did not speak or answer their questions by motion +or gesture. The fort surgeon was puzzled; it was evidently not +paralysis. He was a new-comer on the island, and he asked many questions +as to the past. Anne sincerely, Miss Lois resolutely, denied that there +had ever been any trouble with the brain; Dr. Gaston drummed on the +table, and answered sharply that all men of intellect were more or less +mad. But the towns-people smiled, and tapped their foreheads +significantly; and the new surgeon had noticed in the course of his +experience that, with time for observation, the towns-people are +generally right. So he gave a few medicines, ordered a generous diet, +and looking about him for some friend of the family who could be +trusted, selected at last Père Michaux. For Miss Lois would not treat +him even civilly, bristling when he approached like a hedge-hog; and +with her frank eyes meeting his, he found it impossible to speak to +Anne. But he told Père Michaux the true state of his patient, and asked +him to break the tidings to the family. + +"He can not live long," he said. + +"Is it so?" said Père Michaux. "God's will be done. Poor Anne!" + +"An odd lot of children he has in that ramshackle old house of his," +continued the surgeon. "Two sets, I should say." + +"Yes; the second wife was a French girl." + +"With Indian blood?" + +"Yes." + +"I thought so. Who is to have charge of them? The boys will take to the +woods, I suppose, but that little Tita is an odd specimen. She would +make quite a sensation in New York a few years later." + +"May she never reach there!" said the old priest, fervently. + +"Well, perhaps you are right. But who is to have the child?" + +"Her sister will take charge of her." + +"Miss Anne? Yes, she will do her best, of course; she is a fine, frank +young Saxon. But I doubt if she understands that elfish little +creature." + +"She understands her better than we do," said the priest, with some +heat. + +"Ah? You know best, of course; I speak merely as an outsider," answered +the new surgeon, going off about his business. + +[Illustration: "ALARMED, HE BENT OVER HER."] + +Père Michaux decided that he would tell Anne herself. He went to the +house for the purpose, and called her out on the old piazza. But when +she stood before him, her violet eyes meeting his without a suspicion of +the tidings he brought, his heart failed him suddenly. He comprehended +for the first time what it would be to her, and, making some chance +inquiry, he asked to see Miss Lois, and turned away. Anne went in, and +Miss Lois came out. The contrast between the priest and the New England +woman was more marked than usual as they stood there facing each +other on the old piazza, he less composed than he ordinarily was on +account of what he had to tell. But it never occurred to him for a +moment that Miss Lois would falter. Why should she? He told her. She +sank down at his feet as though she had fallen there and died. + +Alarmed, he bent over her, and in the twilight saw that she was not +dead; her features were working strangely; her hands were clinched over +her breast; her faded eyes stared at him behind the spectacles as though +he were miles away. He tried to raise her. She struck at him almost +fiercely. "Let me alone," she said, in a muffled voice. Then, still +lying where she fell, she threw up her arms and wailed once or twice, +not loudly, but with a struggling, inarticulate sound, as a person cries +out in sleep. Poor old Lois! it was the last wail of her love. But even +then she did not recognize it. Nor did the priest. Pale, with uncertain +steps and shaking hands, yet tearless, the stricken woman raised herself +by the aid of the bench, crossed the piazza, went down the path and into +the street, Père Michaux's eyes following her in bewilderment. She was +evidently going home, and her prim, angular shape looked strangely bare +and uncovered in the lack of bonnet and shawl, for through all the years +she had lived on the island she had never once been seen in the open air +without them. The precision of her bonnet strings was a matter of +conscience. The priest went away also. And thus it happened that Anne +was not told at all. + +When, late in the evening, Miss Lois returned, grayly pale, but quiet, +as she entered the hall a cry met her ears and rang through the house. +It had come sooner than any one expected. The sword of sorrow, which +sooner or later must pierce all loving hearts, had entered Anne +Douglas's breast. Her father was dead. + +He had died suddenly, peacefully and without pain, passing away in +sleep. Anne was with him, and Tita, jealously watchful to the last. No +one else was in the room at the moment. Père Michaux, coming in, had +been the first to perceive the change. + +Tita drew away quickly to a distant corner, and kneeling down where she +could still see everything that went on, began repeating prayers; but +Anne, with a wild cry, threw herself down beside her dead, sobbing, +holding his hand, and calling his name again and again. She would not +believe that he was gone. + +Ah, well, many of us know the sorrow. A daughter's love for a kind +father is a peculiarly dependent, clinging affection; it is mixed with +the careless happiness of childhood, which can never come again. Into +the father's grave the daughter, sometimes a gray-haired woman, lays +away forever the little pet names and memories which to all the rest of +the world are but foolishness. Even though happy in her woman's lot, she +weeps convulsively here for a while with a sorrow that nothing can +comfort; no other love so protecting and unselfish will ever be hers +again. + +Anne was crushed by her grief; it seemed to those who watched her that +she revealed a new nature in her sorrow. Dr. Gaston and Père Michaux +spoke of it to each other, but could find little to say to the girl +herself; she had, as it were, drifted beyond their reach, far out on an +unknown sea. They prayed for her, and went silently away, only to come +back within the hour and meet again on the threshold, recognizing each +other's errand. They were troubled by the change in this young creature, +upon whom they had all, in a certain way, depended. Singularly enough, +Miss Lois did not seem to appreciate Anne's condition: she was suffering +too deeply herself. The whole of her repressed nature was in revolt. But +faithful to the unconscious secret of her life, she still thought the +wild pain of her heart was "sorrow for a friend." + +She went about as usual, attending to household tasks for both homes. +She was unchanged, yet totally changed. There was a new tension about +her mouth, and an unwonted silence, but her hands were as busy as ever. +Days had passed after the funeral before she began to perceive, even +slightly, the broken condition of Anne. The girl herself was the first +to come back to the present, in the necessity for asking one of those +sad questions which often raise their heads as soon as the coffin is +borne away. "Miss Lois, there are bills to be paid, and I have no money. +Do you know anything of our real income?" + +The old habits of the elder woman stirred a little; but she answered, +vaguely, "No." + +"We must look through dear papa's papers," said Anne, her voice breaking +as she spoke the name. "He received few letters, none at all lately; +whatever he had, then, must be here." + +Miss Lois assented, still silently, and the two began their task. Anne, +with a quivering lip, unlocked her father's desk. William Douglas had +not been a relic-loving man. He had lived, he had loved; but memory was +sufficient for him; he needed no tokens. So, amid a hundred mementos of +nature, they found nothing personal, not even a likeness of Anne's +mother, or lock of her curling brown hair. And amid a mass of +miscellaneous papers, writings on every philosophic and imaginative +subject, they found but one relating to money--some figures jotted down, +with a date affixed, the sum far from large, the date three years +before. Below, a later line was added, as if (for the whole was vague) +so much had gone, and this was the remainder; the date of this last line +was eight months back. + +"Perhaps this is it," said Anne; "perhaps this is what he had." + +"I'm sure I don't know," said Miss Lois, mechanically. + +They went on with the search, and at last came to a package tied in +brown paper, which contained money; opening it, they counted the +contents. + +"Three hundred and ten dollars and eighty-five cents," said Anne. + +Miss Lois took a pen and made a calculation, still with the manner of a +machine. "That is about what would be left by this time, at the rate of +the sums you have had, supposing the memorandum is what you think it +is," she said, rubbing her forehead with a shadowy imitation of her old +habit. + +"It is a large sum," said Anne. + +Nothing more was found. It appeared, therefore, that the five children +of William Douglas were left alone in the world with exactly three +hundred and ten dollars and eighty-five cents. + +Dr. Gaston and Père Michaux learned the result that day; the story +spread through the village and up to the fort. "I never heard anything +so extraordinary in my life," said Mrs. Cromer. "That a man like Dr. +Douglas should have gone on for the last four or five years deliberately +living on his capital, seeing it go dollar by dollar, without making one +effort to save it, or to earn an income--a father with children! I shall +always believe, after this, that the villagers were right, and that his +mind was affected." + +The chaplain stopped these comments gruffly, and the fort ladies forgave +him on account of the tremor in his voice. He left them, and went across +to his little book-clogged cottage with the first indications of age +showing in his gait. + +"It is a blow to him; he is very fond of Anne, and hoped everything for +her," said Mrs. Bryden. "I presume he would adopt her if he could; but +there are the other children." + +"They might go to their mother's relatives, I should think," said Mrs. +Rankin. + +"They could, but Anne will not allow it. You will see." + +"I suppose our good chaplain has nothing to bequeath, even if he should +adopt Anne?" + +"No, he has no property, and has saved nothing from his little salary; +it has all gone into books," answered the colonel's wife. + +Another week passed. By that time Dr. Gaston and Père Michaux together +had brought the reality clearly before Anne's eyes; for the girl had +heretofore held such small sums of money in her hands at any one time +that the amount found in the desk had seemed to her large. Père Michaux +began the small list of resources by proposing that the four children +should go at once to their uncle, their mother's brother, who was +willing to receive them and give them a home, such as it was, among his +own brood of black-eyed little ones. Anne decidedly refused. Dr. Gaston +then asked her to come to him, and be his dear daughter as long as he +lived. + +"I must not come with them, and I can not come without them," was Anne's +reply. + +There remained Miss Lois. But she seemed entirely unconscious of any +pressing necessity for haste in regard to the affairs of the little +household, coming and going as usual, but without words; while people +round her, with that virtuous readiness as to the duties of their +neighbors which is so helpful in a wicked world, said loudly and +frequently that she was the nearest friend, and ought to do-- Here +followed a variety of suggestions, which amounted in the aggregate to +everything. At last, as often happens, it was an outside voice that +brought the truth before her. + +"And what are you thinking of doing, dear Miss Lois, for the five poor +orphans?" asked the second Miss Macdougall while paying a visit of +general condolence at the church-house. + +"Why, what should I do?" said Miss Lois, with a faint remembrance of her +old vigilant pride. "They want nothing." + +"They want nothing! And not one hundred dollars apiece for them in the +wide world!" exclaimed Miss Jean. + +"Surely you're joking, my dear. Here's Dr. Gaston wishing to take Anne, +as is most kind and natural; but she will not leave those children. +Although why they should not go back to the stratum from which they came +is a mystery to me. She can never make anything of them: mark my words." + +Miss Jean paused; but whether Miss Lois marked her words or not, she +made no response, but sat gazing straight at the wall. Miss Jean, +however, knew her duty, and did it like a heroine of old. "We thought, +perhaps, dear Miss Lois, that _you_ would like to take them for a time," +she said, "seeing that Anne has proved herself so obstinate as to the +other arrangements proposed. The village has thought so generally, and +I am not the one to hide it from you, having been taught by my lamented +parent to honor and abide by veracity the most precise. We could all +help you a little in clothing them for the present, and we will +contribute to their support a fish now and then, a bag of meal, a barrel +of potatoes, which we would do gladly--right gladly, I do assure you. +For no one likes to think of Dr. Douglas's children being on the town." + +The homely phrase roused Miss Lois at last. "What in the world are you +talking about, Jean Macdougall?" she exclaimed, in wrath. "On the town! +Are you clean daft? On the town, indeed! Clear out of my house this +moment, you lying, evil-speaking woman!" + +The second Miss Macdougall rose in majesty, and drew her black silk +visite round her. "Of whom ye are speaking, Miss Hinsdale, I knaw not," +she said, growing Scotch in her anger; "but I believe ye hae lost your +wits. I tak' my departure freely, and not as sent by one who has +strangely forgotten the demeanor of a leddy." + +With hands folded, she swept toward the door, all the flowers on her +dignified bonnet swaying perceptibly. Pausing on the threshold, she +added, "As a gude Christian, and a keeper of my word, I still say, Miss +Hinsdale, in spite of insults, that in the matter of a fish or two, or a +barrel of potatoes now and then, ye can count upon the Macdougalls." + +Left alone, Miss Lois put on her shawl and bonnet with feverish haste, +and went over to the Agency. Anne was in the sitting-room, and the +children were with her. + +"Anne, of course you and the children are coming to live with me +whenever you think it best to leave this house," said Miss Lois, +appearing on the threshold like an excited ghost in spectacles. "You +never thought or planned anything else, I hope?" + +"No," said Anne, frankly, "I did not--at least for the present. I knew +you would help us, Miss Lois, although you did not speak." + +"Speak! was there any need of speaking?" said the elder woman, bursting +into a few dry, harsh sobs. "You are all I have in the world, Anne. How +could you mistrust me?" + +"I did not," said Anne. + +And then the two women kissed each other, and it was all understood +without further words. And thus, through the intervention of the second +Miss Macdougall (who found herself ill rewarded for her pains), Lois +Hinsdale came out from the watch-chamber of her dead to real life again, +took up her burden, and went on. + +Anne now unfolded her plans, for she had been obliged to invent plans: +necessity forced her forward. "We must all come to you for a time, dear +Miss Lois; but I am young and strong, and I can work. I wish to educate +the boys as father would have wished them educated. Do you ask what I +can do? I think--that is, I hope--that I can teach." Then, in a lower +voice, she added, "I promised father that I would do all I could for the +children, and I shall keep my promise." + +Miss Lois's eyes filled with tears. But the effect of the loving emotion +was only to redden the lids, and make the orbs beneath look smaller and +more unbeautiful than before. + +For to be born into life with small, inexpressive eyes is like being +born dumb. One may have a heart full of feeling, but the world will not +believe it. Pass on, then, Martha, with your pale little orbs; leave the +feeling to Beatrice with her deep brown glance, to Agnes with her pure +blue gaze, to Isabel with hers of passionate splendor. The world does +not believe you have any especial feelings, poor Martha. Then do not +have them, if you can help it--and pass on. + +"I have been thinking deeply," continued Anne, "and I have consulted Dr. +Gaston. He says that I have a good education, but probably an +old-fashioned one; at least the fort ladies told him that it would be so +considered. It seems that what I need is a 'polish of modern +accomplishments.' That is what he called it. Now, to obtain a teacher's +place, I must have this, and I can not obtain it here." She paused; and +then, like one who rides forward on a solitary charge, added, "I am +going to write to Miss Vanhorn." + +"A dragon!" said Miss Lois, knitting fiercely. Then added, after a +moment, "A positive demon of pride." Then, after another silence, she +said, sternly, "She broke your mother's heart, Anne Douglas, and she +will break yours." + +"I hope not," said the girl, her voice trembling a little; for her +sorrow was still very near the surface. "She is old now, and perhaps +more gentle. At any rate, she is my only living relative, and to her I +must appeal." + +"How do you know she is alive? The world would be well rid of such a +wicked fiend," pursued Miss Lois, quoting unconsciously from Anne's +forest Juliet. + +"She was living last year, for father spoke of her." + +"I did not know he ever spoke of her." + +"Only in answer to my questions; for I had found her address, written in +mother's handwriting, in an old note-book. She brought up my mother, you +know, and was once very fond of her." + +"So fond of her that she killed her. If poor Alida had not had that +strain upon her, she might have been alive at this day," said Miss Lois. + +Anne's self-control left her now, and she began to sob like a child. "Do +not make it harder for me than it is," she said, amid her tears. "I +_must_ ask her; and if she should consent to help me, it will be grief +enough to leave you all, without these cruel memories added. She is old: +who knows but that she may be longing to repair the harm she did?" + +"Can the leopard change his spots?" said Miss Lois, sternly. "But what +do you mean by leaving us all? What do you intend to do?" + +"I intend to ask her either to use her influence in obtaining a +teacher's place for me immediately, or if I am not, in her opinion, +qualified, to give me the proper masters for one year. I would study +very hard; she would not be burdened with me long." + +"And the proper masters are not here, of course?" + +"No; at the East." + +Miss Lois stopped in the middle of a round, took off her spectacles, +rolled up her knitting-work slowly and tightly as though it was never to +be unrolled again, and pinned it together with decision; she was pinning +in also a vast resolution. Then she looked at Anne in silence for +several minutes, saw the tear-dimmed eyes and tired, anxious face, the +appealing glance of William Douglas's child. + +"I have not one word to say against it," she remarked at last, breaking +the silence; and then she walked out of the house and went homeward. + +It was a hard battle for her. She was to be left with the four +brown-skinned children, for whom she had always felt unconquerable +aversion, while the one child whom she loved--Anne--was to go far away. +It was a revival of the bitter old feeling against Angélique Lafontaine, +the artful minx who had entrapped William Douglas to his ruin. In truth, +however, there had been very little art about Angélique; nor was Douglas +by any means a rich prey. But women always attribute wonderful powers of +strategy to a successful rival, even although by the same ratio they +reduce the bridegroom to a condition approaching idiocy; for anything is +better than the supposition that he was a free agent, and sought his +fate from the love of it. + +The thought of Anne's going was dreadful to Miss Lois; yet her +long-headed New England thrift and calculation saw chances in that +future which Anne did not see. "The old wretch has money, and no near +heirs," she said to herself, "why should she not take a fancy to this +grandniece? Anne has no such idea, but her friends should, therefore, +have it for her." Still, the tears would rise and dim her spectacles as +she thought of the parting. She took off the gold-rimmed glasses and +rubbed them vigorously. "One thing is certain," she added, to herself, +as a sort of comfort, "Tita will have to do her mummeries in the garden +after this." + +Poor old Lois! in these petty annoyances and heavy cures her great grief +was to be pressed down into a subdued under-current, no longer to be +indulged or made much of even by herself. + +Anne knew but little of her grandaunt. William Douglas would not speak +of what was the most bitter memory of his life. The address in the old +note-book, in her mother's unformed girlish handwriting, was her only +guide. She knew that Miss Vanhorn was obstinate and ill-tempered; she +knew that she had discarded her mother on account of her disobedient +marriage, and had remained harsh and unforgiving to the last. And this +was all she knew. But she had no choice. Hoping, praying for the best, +she wrote her letter, and sent it on its way. Then they all waited. For +Père Michaux had been taken into the conference also, and had given +hearty approval to Anne's idea--so hearty, indeed, that both the +chaplain and Miss Lois looked upon him with disfavor. What did he mean? +He did not say what he meant, but returned to his hermitage cheerfully. +Dr. Gaston, not so cheerfully, brought out his hardest chess problems, +and tried to pass away the time in mathematical combinations of the +deepest kind. Miss Lois, however, had combinations at hand of another +sort. No sooner was the letter gone than she advanced a series of +conjectures which did honor even to her New England origin. + +The first was that Miss Vanhorn had gone abroad: those old New-Yorkers +were "capable of wishing to ride on camels, even"; she added, from +habit, "through the eye of a needle." The next day she decided that +paralysis would be the trouble: those old New-Yorkers were "often +stricken down in that way, owing to their high living and desperate +wine-bibbing." Anne need give no more thought to her letter; Miss +Vanhorn would not be able even to read it. The third day, Miss Vanhorn +would read the letter, but would immediately throw it on the floor and +stamp on it: those old New-Yorkers "had terrible tempers," and were +"known to swear like troopers even on the slightest provocation." The +fourth day, Miss Vanhorn was mad; the fifth day, she was married; the +sixth, she was dead: those old New-Yorkers having tendencies toward +insanity, matrimony, and death which, Miss Lois averred, were known to +all the world, and indisputable. That she herself had never been in New +York in her life made no difference in her certainties: women like Miss +Lois are always sure they know all about New York. + +Anne, weary and anxious, and forced to hear all these probabilities, +began at last to picture her grandaunt as a sort of human kaleidoscope, +falling into new and more fantastic combinations at a moment's notice. + +They had allowed two weeks for the letter to reach the island, always +supposing that Miss Vanhorn was not on a camel, paralyzed, obstinate, +mad, married, or dead. But on the tenth day the letter came. Anne took +it with a hand that trembled. Dr. Gaston was present, and Miss Lois, but +neither of them comprehended her feelings. She felt that she was now to +be confronted by an assent which would strain her heart-strings almost +to snapping, yet be ultimately for the best, or by a refusal which would +fill her poor heart with joy, although at the same time pressing down +upon her shoulders a heavy, almost hopeless, weight of care. The two +could not enter into her feelings, because in the depths of their hearts +they both resented her willingness to leave them. They never said this +to each other, they never said it to themselves; yet they both felt it +with the unconscious selfishness of those who are growing old, +especially when their world is narrowed down to one or two loving young +hearts. They did not realize that it was as hard for her to go as it was +for them to let her go; they did not realize what a supreme effort of +courage it required to make this young girl go out alone into the wide +world, and face its vastness and its strangeness; they did not realize +how she loved them, and how every tree, every rock of the island, also, +was dear to her strongly loving, concentrated heart. + +After her father's death Anne had been for a time passive, swept away by +grief as a dead leaf on the wind. But cold necessity came and stood by +her bedside silently and stonily, and looked at her until, recalling her +promise, she rose, choked back her sorrow, and returned to common life +and duty with an aching but resolute heart. In the effort she made to +speak at all it was no wonder that she spoke quietly, almost coldly; +having, after sleepless nights of sorrow, nerved herself to bear the +great change in her lot, should it come to her, could she trust herself +to say that she was sorry to go? Sorry!--when her whole heart was one +pain! + +The letter was as follows: + + * * * * * + +"GRANDNIECE ANNE,--I did not know that you were in existence. I have +read your letter, and have now to say the following. Your mother +willfully disobeyed me, and died. I, meanwhile, an old woman, remain as +strong as ever. + +"While I recognize no legal claim upon me (I having long since attended +to the future disposal of all my property according to my own wishes), I +am willing to help you to a certain extent, as I would help any +industrious young girl asking for assistance. If what you say of your +education is true, you need only what are called modern accomplishments +(of which I personally have small opinion, a grimacing in French and a +squalling in Italian being not to my taste) to make you a fairly well +qualified teacher in an average country boarding-school, which is all +you can expect. You may, therefore, come to New York at my expense, and +enter Madame Moreau's establishment, where, as I understand, the extreme +of everything called 'accomplishment' is taught, and much nonsense +learned in the latest style. You may remain one year; not longer. And I +advise you to improve the time, as nothing more will be done for you by +me. You will bring your own clothes, but I will pay for your books. I +send no money now, but will refund your travelling expenses (of which +you will keep strict account, without extras) upon your arrival in the +city, which must not be later than the last of October. Go directly to +Madame Moreau's (the address is inclosed), and remember that you are +simply Anne Douglas, and not a relative of your obedient servant, + +KATHARINE VANHORN." + + * * * * * + +Anne, who had read the letter aloud in a low voice, now laid it down, +and looked palely at her two old friends. + +"A hard letter," said the chaplain, indignantly. "My child, remain with +us. We will think of some other plan for you. Let the proud, +cold-hearted old woman go." + +"I told you how it would be," said Miss Lois, a bright spot of red on +each cheek-bone. "She was cruel to your mother before you, and she will +be cruel to you. You must give it up." + +"No," said Anne, slowly, raising the letter and replacing it in its +envelope; "it is a matter in which I have no choice. She gives me the +year at school, as you see, and--there are the children. I promised +father, and I must keep the promise. Do not make me falter, dear +friends, for--I _must_ go." And unable longer to keep back the tears, +she hurriedly left the room. + +Dr. Gaston, without a word, took his old felt hat and went home. Miss +Lois sat staring vaguely at the window-pane, until she became conscious +that some one was coming up the path, and that "some one" Père Michaux. +She too then went hurriedly homeward, by the back way, in order to avoid +him. The old priest, coming in, found the house deserted. Anne was on +her knees in her own room, sobbing as if her heart would break; but the +walls were thick, and he could not hear her. + +Then Tita came in. "Annet is going away," she said, softly; "she is +going to school. The letter came to-day." + +"So Miss Vanhorn consents, does she? Excellent! excellent!" said Père +Michaux, rubbing his hands, his eyes expressing a hearty satisfaction. + +"When will you say 'Excellent! excellent!' about me?" said Tita, +jealously. + +"Before long, I hope," said the priest, patting her small head. + +"But are you sure, mon père?" + +"Well, yes," said Père Michaux, "on the whole, I am." + +He smiled, and the child smiled also; but with a deep quiet triumph +remarkable in one so young. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + "To all appearance it was chiefly by Accident, and the grace of + Nature."--CARLYLE. + + +It was still September; for great sorrows come, graves are made and +turfed over, and yet the month is not out. Anne had written her letter +immediately, accepting her grandaunt's offer, and Père Michaux gave her +approval and praise; but the others did not, could not, and she suffered +from their silence. It made, however, no change in her purpose; she went +about her tasks steadily, toiling all day over the children's clothes, +for she had used part of the money in her hands to make them +comfortable, and part was to be given to Miss Lois. Her own garments +troubled her little; two strong, plain black gowns she considered amply +sufficient. Into the midst of all this swift sewing suddenly one day +came Rast. + +"Why did I do it?" he said, in answer to everybody. "Do you suppose I +was going to let Annet go away for a whole long year without saying even +good-by? Of course not." + +"It is very kind," said Anne, her tired eyes resting on his handsome +face gratefully, her sewing for the moment cast aside. Her friends had +not been overkind to her lately, and she was deeply touched by this +proof of attachment from her old playmate and companion. Rast expressed +his affection, as usual, in his own way. He did not say that he had come +back to the island because he wished to see her, but because he knew +that she wished to see him. And Anne willingly agreed. Dr. Gaston, as +guardian of this runaway collegian, gave him a long lecture on his +escapade and its consequences, his interrupted studies, a long train of +disasters to follow being pictured with stern distinctness. Rast +listened to the sermon, or rather sat through it, without impatience: he +had a fine sunny temper, and few things troubled him. He seldom gave +any attention to subtleties of meaning, or under-currents, but took the +surface impression, and answered it promptly, often putting to rout by +his directness trains of reasoning much deeper than his own. So now all +he said was, "I could not help coming, sir, because Annet is going away; +I wanted to see her." And the old man was silenced in spite of himself. + +As he was there, and it could not be helped, Rast, by common consent of +the island, was allowed to spend several days unmolested among his old +haunts. Then they all began to grow restive, to ask questions, and to +speak of the different boats. For the public of small villages has +always a singular impatience as to anything like uncertainty in the date +of departure of its guests. Many a miniature community has been stirred +into heat because it could not find out the day and hour when Mrs. Blank +would terminate her visit at her friend's mansion, and with her trunk +and bag depart on her way to the railway station; and this not because +the community has any objection to Mrs. Blank, or any wish to have her +depart, but simply because if she is going, they wish to know _when_, +and have it settled. The few days over, Rast himself was not unwilling +to go. He had seen Anne, and Anne was pressed with work, and so +constantly threatened by grief that she had to hold it down with an iron +effort at almost every moment. If she kept her eyes free from tears and +her voice steady, she did all she could; she had no idea that Rast +expected more. Rast meanwhile had learned clearly that he was a +remarkably handsome, brilliant young fellow, and that the whole world +was before him where to choose. He was fond of Anne; the best feelings +of his nature and the associations of his whole boyhood's life were +twined round her; and yet he was conscious that he had always been very +kind to her, and this coming back to the island on purpose to see +her--that was remarkably kind. He was glad to do it, of course; but she +must appreciate it. He began now to feel that as he had seen her, and as +he could not in any case stay until she went, he might as well go. He +yielded, therefore, to the first suggestion of the higher powers, +saying, however, frankly, and with real feeling, that it was hard to bid +farewell for so long a time to his old playmate, and that he did not +know how he could endure the separation. As the last words were spoken +it was Rast who had tear-dimmed eyes; it was Rast's voice that faltered. +Anne was calm, and her calmness annoyed him. He would have liked a more +demonstrative sorrow. But as he went down the long path on his way to +the pier where the steamboat was waiting, the first whistle having +already sounded, he forgot everything save his affection for her and the +loneliness in store for him after her departure. While she was on their +island she seemed near, but New York was another world. + +Down in the shadow of the great gate there was an ancient little +cherry-tree, low and gnarled, which thrust one crooked arm across the +path above the heads of the passers-by. As Rast approached he saw in the +dusky twilight a small figure perched upon this bough, and recognized +Tita. + +"Is that you, child?" he said, pausing and looking up. She answered by +dropping into his arms like a kitten, and clinging to him mutely, with +her face hidden on his shoulder. + +"What an affectionate little creature she is, after all!" he thought, +stroking her dark hair. Then, after saying good-by, and giving her a +kiss, he disengaged himself without much ceremony, and telling her to be +a good girl and mind Miss Lois during the winter, he hurried down to the +pier, the second whistle summoning all loiterers on board with shrill +harshness. Tita, left alone, looked at her arms, reddened by the force +with which she had resisted his efforts to unclasp them. They had been +pressed so closely against the rough woollen cloth of his coat that the +brown flesh showed the mark of the diagonal pattern. + +[Illustration: "SHE SAT THERE HIGH IN THE AIR WHILE THE STEAMER BACKED +OUT FROM THE PIERS."] + +"It is a hurt," she said, passionately--"it is a hurt." Her eyes +flashed, and she shook her small fist at the retreating figure. Then, as +the whistle sounded a third time, she climbed quickly to the top of the +great gates, and sat there high in the air while the steamer backed +out from the piers, turned round, and started westward through the +Straits, nothing now save a moving line of lights, the short Northern +twilight having faded into night. + +When the long sad day of parting was at last over, and everything done +that her hands could find to do in that amount of time, Anne, in her own +room alone, let her feelings come forth; she was the only watcher in the +old house, every other eye was closed in sleep. These moments alone at +night, when she allowed herself to weep and think, were like breathing +times; then her sorrows came forth. According to her nature, she did not +fear or brood upon her own future so much as upon the future of the +children; the love in her heart made it seem to her a bitter fate to be +forced to leave them and the island. The prospect of the long journey, +the city school, the harsh aunt, did not dishearten her; they were but +parts of her duty, the duty of her life. It was after midnight; still +she sat there. The old shutters, which had been rattling for some time, +broke their fastenings, and came violently against the panes with a +sound like the report of a pistol. + +"The wind is rising," she thought, vaguely, as she rose to fasten them, +opening one of the windows for the purpose. In rushed the blast, blowing +out the candle, driving books and papers across the floor, and whirling +the girl's long loosened hair over her face and round her arms like the +coils of a boa-constrictor. Blinded, breathless, she hastily let down +the sash again, and peered through the small wrinkled panes. A few stars +were visible between the light clouds which drove rapidly from north to +south in long regular lines like bars, giving a singular appearance to +the sky, which the girl recognized at once, and in the recognition came +back to present life. "The equinoctial," she said to herself; "and one +of the worst. Where can the _Huron_ be? Has she had time to reach the +shelter of the islands?" + +The _Huron_ was the steamer which had carried Rast away at twilight. She +was a good boat and stanch. But Anne knew that craft as stanch had been +wrecked and driven ashore during these fierce autumn gales which sweep +over the chain of lakes suddenly, and strew their coasts with fragments +of vessels, and steamers also, from the head of Superior to the foot of +Ontario. If there was more sea-room, vessels might escape; if there were +better harbors, steamers might seek port; in a gale, an ocean captain +has twenty chances for his vessel where the lake captain has one. Anne +stood with her face pressed against the window for a long time; the +force of the wind increased. She took her candle and went across to a +side room whose windows commanded the western pass: she hoped that she +might see the lights of the steamer coming back, seeking the shelter of +the island before the worst came. But all was dark. She returned to her +room, and tried to sleep, but could not. Dawn found her at the window, +wakeful and anxious. There was to be no sun that day, only a yellow +white light. She knelt down and prayed; then she rose, and braided anew +her thick brown hair. When she entered the sitting-room the vivid rose +freshness which always came to her in the early morning was only +slightly paled by her vigil, and her face seemed as usual to the boys, +who were waiting for her. Before breakfast was ready, Miss Lois arrived, +tightly swathed in a shawl and veils, and carrying a large basket. + +"There is fresh gingerbread in there," she said; "I thought the boys +might like some; and--it will be an excellent day to finish those +jackets, Anne. No danger of interruption." + +She did not mention the gale or Rast; neither did Anne. They sat down to +breakfast with the boys, and talked about thread and buttons. But, while +they were eating, Louis exclaimed, "Why, there's Dr. Gaston!" and +looking up, they saw the chaplain struggling to keep his hat in place as +he came up the path sideways, fighting the wind. + +"He should just have wrapped himself up, and scudded before it as I +did," said Miss Lois. + +Anne ran to open the door, and the old clergyman came panting in. + +"It is such a miserable day that I thought you would like to have that +dictionary, dear; so I brought it down to you," he said, laying the +heavy volume on the table. + +"Thanks. Have you had breakfast?" said Anne. + +"Well, no. I thought I would come without waiting for it this morning, +in order that you might have the book, you know. What! _you_ here, Miss +Lois?" + +"Yes, sir. I came to help Anne. We are going to have a good long day at +these jackets," replied Miss Lois, briskly. + +They all sat down at the table again, and Gabriel was going to the +kitchen for hot potatoes, when he spied another figure struggling +through the gate and driving up the long path. "Père Michaux!" he cried, +running to open the door. + +In another moment the priest had entered, and was greeting them +cheerfully. "As I staid in town overnight, I thought, Anne, that I would +come up and look over those books. It is a good day for it; there will +be no interruption. I think I shall find a number of volumes which I may +wish to purchase." + +"It is very kind; I shall like to think of my dear father's books in +your hands. But have you breakfasted?" + +No, the priest acknowledged that he had not. In truth, he was not hungry +when he rose; but now that he saw the table spread, he thought he might +eat something after all. + +So they sat down again, and Louis went out to help Gabriel bring in more +coffee, potatoes, and eggs. There was a good deal of noise with the +plates, a good deal of passing to and fro the milk, cream, butter, and +salt; a good deal of talking on rather a high key; a great many +questions and answers whose irrelevancy nobody noticed. Dr. Gaston told +a long story, and forgot the point; but Miss Lois laughed as heartily as +though it had been acutely present. Père Michaux then brought up the +venerable subject of the lost grave of Father Marquette; and the others +entered into it with the enthusiasm of resurrectionists, and as though +they had never heard of it before, Miss Lois and Dr. Gaston even seeming +to be pitted against each other in the amount of interest they showed +concerning the dead Jesuit. Anne said little; in truth, there was no +space left for her, the others keeping up so brisk a fire of phrases. It +was not until Tita, coming into the room, remarked, as she warmed her +hands, that breakfast was unusually early, that any stop was made, and +then all the talkers fell upon her directly, in lieu of Father +Marquette. Miss Lois could not imagine what she meant. It was sad, +indeed, to see such laziness in so young a child. Before long she would +be asking for breakfast in bed! Dr. Gaston scouted the idea that it was +early; he had often been down in the village an hour earlier. It was a +fine bracing morning for a walk. + +All this time the high ceaseless whistle of the wind, the roar of the +water on the beach, the banging to and fro of the shutters here and +there on the wide rambling old mansion, the creaking of the near trees +that brushed its sides, and the hundred other noises of the gale, made +the room seem strange and uncomfortable; every now and then the solid +old frame-work vibrated as a new blast struck it, and through the floor +and patched carpet puffs of cold air came up into the room and swept +over their feet. All their voices were pitched high to overcome these +sounds. + +Tita listened to the remarks addressed to her, noted the pretense of +bustle and hearty appetite, and then, turning to the window, she said, +during a momentary lull in the storm, "I do not wonder that you can not +eat, when poor Rast is somewhere on that black water." + +Dr. Gaston pushed away his plate, Miss Lois sat staring at the wall with +her lips tightly compressed, while Anne covered her face with her hands +to keep back the tears. Père Michaux rose and began to walk up and down +the room; for a moment, besides his step, there was no sound save the +roar of the storm. Tita's words had ended all pretense, clothed their +fear in language, and set it up in their midst. From that moment, +through the long day, there was no more disguise; every cloud, every +great wave, was watched, every fresh fierce blast swept through four +anxious hearts. They were very silent now, and as the storm grew +wilder, even the boys became awed, and curled themselves together on the +broad window-seat, speaking in whispers. At noon a vessel drove by under +bare poles; she seemed to be unmanageable, and they could see the +signals of the sailors as they passed the island. But there was no +life-boat, and nothing else could live in that sea. At two o'clock a +large bark came into view, and ran ashore on the reef opposite; there +she lay, pounding to pieces for two hours. They saw the crew try to +launch the boats; one was broken into fragments in a moment, then +another. The third and last floated, filled with humanity, and in two +minutes she also was swamped, and dark objects that they knew were men +were sucked under. Then the hull of a schooner, with one mast standing, +drove aimlessly by, so near the shore that with the glass they could see +the features of the sailors lashed to the pole. + +"Oh! if we could but save them!" said Anne. "How near they are!" But +even as she spoke the mast fell, and they saw the poor fellows drown +before their eyes. + +At four the _Huron_ came into sight from the western pass, laboring +heavily, fighting her way along inch by inch, but advancing. "Thanks be +to the Lord for this!" said the chaplain, fervently. Père Michaux took +off his velvet cap, and reverently made the sign of the cross. + +"'Twouldn't be any harm to sing a hymn, I guess," said Miss Lois, wiping +her eyes. Then Anne sang the "De Profundis." Amid the storm all the +voices rose together, the children and Miss Lois and the two priests +joining in the old psalm of King David, which belongs to all alike, +Romanist and Protestant, Jew and Christian, bond and free. + +"I do feel better," said Miss Lois. "But the steamer is still far off." + +"The danger will be when she attempts to turn," said Père Michaux. + +They all stood at the windows watching the boat as she rolled and +pitched in the heavy sea, seeming half the time to make no headway at +all, but on the contrary to be beaten back, yet doggedly persisting. At +five o'clock she had reached the point where she must turn and run the +gauntlet in order to enter port, with the gale striking full upon her +side. Every front window in the village now held gazing faces, and along +the piers men were clustered under the lee of the warehouses with ropes +and hooks, waiting to see what they could do. The steamer seemed to +hesitate a moment, and was driven back. Then she turned sharply and +started in toward the piers with all steam on. The watchers at the +Agency held their breath. For a moment or two she advanced rapidly, then +the wind struck her, and she careened until her smoke-stacks seemed +almost to touch the water. The boys cried out; Miss Lois clasped her +hands. But the boat had righted herself again by changing her course, +and was now drifting back to her old station. Again and again she made +the attempt, now coming slowly, now with all the sudden speed she could +muster; but she never advanced far before the lurch came, throwing her +on her side, with one paddle-wheel in the air, and straining every +timber in her frame. After half an hour of this work she drew off, and +began to ply slowly up and down under the partial shelter of the little +island opposite, as if resting. But there was not a place where she +could cast anchor, nor any safety in flight; the gale would outlast the +night, and the village harbor was her best hope. The wind was +increasing, the afternoon sinking into night; every one on the island +and on board also knew that when darkness fell, the danger, already +great, would be trebled. Menacing and near on every side were long low +shore-lines, which looked harmless enough, yet held in their sands the +bones of many a drowned man, the ribs of many a vessel. + +"Why doesn't she make another trial?" said Dr. Gaston, feverishly wiping +his eyeglasses. "There is no use in running up and down under that +island any longer." + +"The captain is probably making everything ready for a final attempt," +answered Père Michaux. + +And so it seemed, for, after a few more minutes had passed, the steamer +left her shelter, and proceeded cautiously down to the end of the little +island, keeping as closely in shore as she could, climbing each wave +with her bows, and then pitching down into the depth on the other side, +until it seemed as if her hind-quarters must be broken off, being too +long to fit into the watery hollows under her. Having reached the end of +the islet, she paused, and slowly turned. + +"Now for it," said Père Michaux. + +It was sunset-time in pleasant parts of the land; here the raw, cold, +yellow light, which had not varied since early morning, giving a +peculiar distinctness to all objects near or far, grew more clear for a +few moments--the effect, perhaps, of the after-glow behind the clouds +which had covered the sky all day unmoved, fitting as closely as the +cover upon a dish. As the steamer started out into the channel, those on +shore could see that the passengers were gathered on the deck as if +prepared for the worst. They were all there, even the children. But now +no one thought any more, only watched; no one spoke, only breathed. The +steamer was full in the gale, and on her side. Yet she kept along, +righting herself a little now and then, and then careening anew. It +seemed as though she would not be able to make headway with her one +wheel, but she did. Then the islanders began to fear that she would be +driven by too far out; but the captain had allowed for that. In a few +seconds more it became evident that she would just brush the end of the +longest pier, with nothing to spare. Then the men on shore ran down, the +wind almost taking them off their feet, with ropes, chains, +grappling-irons, and whatever they could lay their hands on. The +steamer, now unmanageable, was drifting rapidly toward them on her side, +the passengers clinging to her hurricane-deck and to the railings. A +great wave washed over her when not twenty feet from the pier, bearing +off several persons, who struggled in the water a moment, and then +disappeared. Anne covered her eyes with her hands, and prayed that Rast +might not be among these. When she looked again, the boat was fastened +by two, by ten, by twenty, ropes and chains to the end of the pier, bows +on, and pulling at her halters like an unmanageable steed, while women +were throwing their children into the arms of those below, and men were +jumping madly over, at the risk of breaking their ankle-bones. Anything +to be on the blessed shore! In three minutes a hundred persons were on +the pier, and Rast among them. Anne, Dr. Gaston, Père Michaux, Miss +Lois, and the children all recognized his figure instantly, and the two +old men started down through the storm to meet him, in their excitement +running along like school-boys, hand in hand. + +Rast was safe. They brought him home to the Agency in triumph, and +placed him in a chair before the fire. They all wanted to touch him, in +order to feel that he was really there, to be glad over him, to make +much of him; they all talked together. Anne came to his side with tender +affection. He was pale and moved. Instinctively and naturally as a child +turns to its mother he turned to her, and, before them all, laid his +head down upon her shoulder, and clung to her without speaking. The +elders drew away a little; the boys stopped their clamor. Only Tita kept +her place by the youth's side, and frowned darkly on the others. + +Then they broke into a group again. Rast recovered himself, Dr. Gaston +began to make puns, and Père Michaux and Miss Lois revived the subject +of Father Marquette as a safe ladder by which they could all come down +to common life again. A visit to the kitchen was made, and a grand +repast, dinner and supper combined, was proposed and carried into effect +by Miss Lois, Père Michaux, and the Irish soldier's wife, the three boys +acting as volunteers. Even Dr. Gaston found his way to the distant +sanctuary through the series of empty rooms that preceded it, and +proffering his services, was set to toasting bread--a duty he +accomplished by attentively burning one side of every slice, and +forgetting the other, so that there was a wide latitude of choice, and +all tastes were suited. With his wig pushed back, and his cheery face +scarlet from the heat, he presented a fine contrast to Père Michaux, +who, quietly and deliberately as usual, was seasoning a stew with +scientific care, while Miss Lois, beating eggs, harried the Irish +soldier's wife until she ran to and fro, at her wits' end. + +Tita kept guard in the sitting-room, where Anne had been decisively +ordered to remain and entertain Rast; the child sat in her corner, +watching them, her eyes narrowed under their partly closed lids. Rast +had now recovered his usual spirits, and talked gayly; Anne did not say +much, but leaned back in her chair listening, thankfully quiet and +happy. The evening was radiant with contentment; it was midnight when +they separated. The gale was then as wild as ever; but who cared now +whether the old house shook? + +Rast was safe. + +At the end of the following day at last the wind ceased: twenty-two +wrecks were counted in the Straits alone, with many lives lost. The dead +sailors were washed ashore on the island beaches and down the coast, and +buried in the sands where they were found. The friends of those who had +been washed overboard from the steamer came up and searched for their +bodies up and down the shores for miles; some found their lost, others, +after days of watching in vain, went away sorrowing, thinking, with a +new idea of its significance, of that time "when the sea shall give up +her dead." + +After the storm came halcyon days. The trees now showed those brilliant +hues of the American autumn which as yet no native poet has so strongly +described, no native artist so vividly painted, that the older nations +across the ocean have fit idea of their splendor. Here, in the North, +the scarlet, orange, and crimson trees were mingled with pines, which +made the green of the background; indeed, the islets all round were like +gorgeous bouquets set in the deep blue of the water, and floating +quietly there. + +Rast was to return to college in a few days. He was in such gay spirits +that Miss Lois was vexed, although she could hardly have told why. Père +Michaux, however, aided and encouraged all the pranks of the young +student. He was with him almost constantly, not returning to the +hermitage at all during the time of his stay; Miss Lois was surprised +to see how fond he was of the youth. + +"No one can see Rast a moment alone now," she said, complainingly; "Père +Michaux is always with him." + +"Why do you want to see him alone?" said Tita, from her corner, looking +up for a moment from her book. + +"Don't you know that it is rude to ask questions?" said Miss Lois, +sharply. But although she gave no reasons, it was plain that for some +reason she was disappointed and angry. + +The last day came, the last afternoon; the smoke of the coming steamer +could be seen beyond the blue line of the point. No danger now of storm; +the weather would be fair for many days. Père Michaux had proposed that +Anne, Rast, and himself should go up to the heights behind the house and +watch the sunset hues for the last time that year; they were to come +back to the Agency in time to meet Dr. Gaston and Miss Lois, and take +tea there all together, before the steamer's departure. Tita announced +that she wished to go to the heights also. + +"Come along then, Puss," said Rast, giving her his hand. + +They set out through the garden, and up the narrow winding path; but the +ascent was steep, and the priest climbed slowly, pausing now and then to +take breath. Rast staid with him, while Anne strolled forward; Tita +waited with Rast. They had been sitting on a crag for several minutes, +when suddenly Rast exclaimed: "Hallo! there's Spotty's dog! he has been +lost for three days, the scamp. I'll go up and catch him, and be back in +a moment." While still speaking he was already scaling the rocks above +them, not following the path by which Anne had ascended, but swinging +himself up, hand over hand, with the dexterity and strength of a +mountaineer; in a minute or two he was out of sight. Spotty's dog was a +favorite in the garrison, Spotty, a dilapidated old Irish soldier, being +his owner in name. Spotty said that the dog had "followed" him, when he +was passing through Detroit; if he did, he had never repeated the act, +but had persistently gone in the opposite direction ever since. But the +men always went out and hunted for him all over the island, sooner or +later finding him and bringing him back; for they liked to see him dance +on his mournful hind legs, go through the drill, and pretend to be +dead--feats which once formed parts of his répertoire as member of the +travelling canine troupe which he had deserted at Detroit. It was +considered quite an achievement to bring back this accomplished animal, +and Rast was not above the glory. But it was not to be so easy as he had +imagined: several minutes passed and he did not return, Spotty's dog +having shown his thin nose and one eye but an instant at the top of the +height, and then withdrawn them, leaving no trace behind. + +"We will go up the path, and join Anne," said Père Michaux; "we will not +wait longer for Rast. He can find us there as well as here." + +They started; but after a few steps the priest's foot slipped on a +rolling stone; he lost his balance, and half fell, half sank to the +ground, fortunately directly along the narrow path, and not beyond its +edge. When he attempted to rise, he found that his ankle was strained: +he was a large man, and he had fallen heavily. Tita bound up the place +as well as she could with his handkerchief and her own formed into a +bandage; but at best he could only hobble. He might manage to go down +the path to the house, but evidently he could not clamber further. Again +they waited for Rast, but he did not come. They called, but no one +answered. They were perched half way up the white cliff, where no one +could hear them. Tita's whole face had grown darkly red, as though the +blood would burst through; she looked copper-colored, and her expression +was full of repressed impatience. Père Michaux, himself more perturbed +and angry than so slight a hurt would seem to justify, happening to look +at her, was seized with an idea. "Run up, child," he said, "and join +Anne; do not leave her again. Tell her what has happened, and--mind what +I say exactly, Tita--do not leave her." + +Tita was off up the path and out of sight in an instant. The old priest, +left to himself, hobbled slowly down the hill and across the garden to +the Agency, not without some difficulty and pain. + +Anne had gone up to the heights, and seated herself in good faith to +wait for the others; Rast had gone after the dog in good faith, and not +to seek Anne. Yet they met, and the others did not find them. + +The dog ran away, and Rast after him, down the north path for a mile, +and then straight into the fir wood, where nothing can be caught, man or +dog. So Rast came back, not by the path, but through the forest, and +found Anne sitting in a little nook among the arbor vitæ, where there +was an opening, like a green window, overlooking the harbor. He sat down +by her side, and fanned himself with his hat for a few moments, and then +he went down to find Père Michaux and bring him up thither. But by that +time the priest had reached the house, and he returned, saying that he +saw by the foot-marks that the old man had for some reason gone down the +hill again, leaving them to watch their last sunset alone. He threw +himself down by Anne's side, and together they looked through their +green casement. + +"The steamer has turned the point," said Anne. + +They both watched it in silence. They heard the evening gun from the +fort. + +"I shall never forgive myself, Rast, for having let you go before so +carelessly. When the gale began that night, every blast seemed to go +through my heart." + +"I thought you did not appear to care much," said Rast, in an aggrieved +tone. + +"Did you notice it, then? It was only because I have to repress myself +every moment, dear, lest I should give way entirely. You know I too must +go far away--far away from all I love. I feel it very deeply." + +[Illustration: "YOU KNOW I TOO MUST GO FAR AWAY."] + +She turned toward him as she spoke, with her eyes full of tears. Her hat +was off, and her face, softened by emotion, looked for the first time to +his eyes womanly. For generally that frank brow, direct gaze, and +impersonal expression gave her the air of a child. Rast had never +thought that Anne was beautiful; he had never thought of himself as her +lover. He was very fond of her, of course; and she was very fond of +him; and he meant to be good to her always. But that was all. Now, +however, suddenly a new feeling came over him; he realized that her eyes +were very lovely, and that her lips trembled with emotion. True, even +then she did not turn from him, rather toward him; but he was too young +himself to understand these indications, and, carried away by her +sweetness, his own affection, and the impulse of the moment, he put his +arm round her, and drew her toward him, sure that he loved her, and +especially sure that she loved him. Poor Anne, who would soon have to +part with him--dear Anne, his old playmate and friend! + +Half an hour later he came into the Agency sitting-room, where the +others were waiting, with a quick step and sparkling eyes, and, with the +tone and manner of a young conqueror, announced, "Dr. Gaston, and all of +you, I am going to marry Annet. We are engaged." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + "Shades of evening, close not o'er us, + Leave our lonely bark awhile; + Morn, alas! will not restore us + Yonder dear and fading isle. + Though 'neath distant skies we wander, + Still with thee our thoughts must dwell: + Absence makes the heart grow fonder-- + Isle of beauty, fare thee well!" + + --THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY. + + +"We are engaged." + +Dr. Gaston, who was standing, sat down as though struck down. Miss Lois +jumped up, and began to laugh and cry in a breath. Père Michaux, who was +sitting with his injured foot resting on a stool, ground his hands down +suddenly on the arms of his chair with a sharp displeasure visible for +an instant on his face. But only for an instant; it was gone before any +one saw it. + +"Oh, my darling boy!" said Miss Lois, with her arms round Rast's neck. +"I always knew you would. You are made for each other, and always were. +_Now_ we shall have you both with us always, thank the Lord!" Then she +sobbed again, and took a fresh and tighter hold of him. "I'll take the +boys, dear; you need not be troubled with them. And I'll come over here +and live, so that you and Annet can have the church-house; it's in much +better repair; only there should be a new chimney. The dearest wish of +my heart is now fulfilled, and I am quite ready to die." + +Rast was kind always; it was simply impossible for him to say or do +anything which could hurt the feelings of any one present. Such a course +is sometimes contradictory, since those who are absent likewise have +their feelings; but it is always at the moment agreeable. He kissed Miss +Lois affectionately, thanked her, and led her to her chair; nor did he +stop there, but stood beside her with her hand in his until she began to +recover her composure, wipe her eyes, and smile. Then he went across to +Dr. Gaston, his faithful and early friend. + +"I hope I have your approval, sir?" he said, looking very tall and +handsome as he stood by the old man's chair. + +"Yes, yes," said the chaplain, extending his hand. "I was--I was +startled at first, of course; you have both seemed like children to me. +But if it must be, it must be. Only--make her happy, Rast; make her +happy." + +"I shall try, sir." + +"Come, doctor, acknowledge that you have always expected it," said Miss +Lois, breaking into permanent sunshine, and beginning to wipe her +spectacles in a business-like way, which showed that the moisture was +ended for the present. + +"No--yes; I hardly know what I have expected," answered the chaplain, +still a little suffocated, and speaking thickly. "I do not think I have +expected anything." + +"Is there any one else you would prefer to have Rast marry? Answer me +that." + +"No, no; certainly not." + +"Is there any one you would prefer to have Anne marry?" + +"Why need she marry at all?" said the chaplain, boldly, breaking +through the chain of questions closing round him. "I am sure you +yourself are a bright example, Miss Hinsdale, of the merits of single +life." + +But, to his surprise, Miss Lois turned upon him. + +"What! have Anne live through my loneliness, my +always-being-misunderstood-ness, my general sense of a useless ocean +within me, its breaking waves dashed high on a stern and rock-bound +coast?" she said, quoting vehemently from the only poem she knew. +"Never!" + +While Dr. Gaston was still gazing at her, Rast turned to Père Michaux. +"I am sure of your approval," he said, smiling confidently. "I have had +no doubt of that." + +"Haven't you?" said the priest, dryly. + +"No, sir: you have always been my friend." + +"And I shall continue to be," said Père Michaux. But he rose as he +spoke, and hobbled into the hall, closing the door behind him. + +Tita was hurrying through the garden on her way from the heights; he +waited for her. + +"Where have you been?" he asked, sternly. + +The child seemed exhausted, her breath came in panting gasps; her skirt +was torn, her hair streaming, and the dark red hue of her face was +changed to a yellow pallor. + +"I have run and run, I have followed and followed, I have listened with +my ear on the ground; I have climbed trees to look, I have torn a path +through bushes, and I have not found them," she said, huskily, a slight +froth on her dry lips as she spoke, her eyes bright and feverish. + +"They are here," said Père Michaux; "they have been at home some time. +What can you have been about, Angélique?" + +"I have told you," said the child, rolling her apron tightly in her +small brown hands. "I followed his track. He went down the north path. I +traced him for a mile; then I lost him. In the fir wood. Then I crept, +and looked, and listened." + +"You followed Rast, then, when I told you to go to Anne! Enough. I +thought, at least, you were quick, Tita; but it seems you are dull--dull +as an owl," said the priest, turning away. He hobbled to the front door +and sat down on the threshold. "After all my care," he said to himself, +"to be foiled by a rolling stone!" + +Through the open window he heard Miss Lois ask where Anne was. "Did she +not come back with you, Rast?" + +"Yes, but she was obliged to go directly to the kitchen. Something about +the tea, I believe." + +"Oh no; it was because she did not want to face us," said Miss Lois, +archly. "I will go and bring her, the dear child!" + +Père Michaux smiled contemptuously in the twilight outside; but he +seemed to have recovered his equanimity also. "Something about the tea!" +he said to himself. "Something about the tea!" He rose and hobbled into +the sitting-room again with regained cheerfulness. Miss Lois was leading +in Anne. "Here she is," said the old maid. "I found her; hiding, of +course, and trembling." + +Anne, smiling, turned down her cuffs, and began to light the lamp as +usual. "I had to watch the broiling of the birds," she said. "You would +not like to have them burned, would you?" + +Père Michaux now looked thoroughly happy. "By no means," he replied, +hobbling over and patting her on the head--"by no means, my dear." Then +he laughed contentedly, and sat down. The others might talk now; he was +satisfied. + +When the lamp was lighted, everybody kissed Anne formally, and wished +her happiness, Père Michaux going through the little rite with his +finest Parisian courtesy. The boys added their caresses, and Gabriel +said, "Of course _now_ you won't go away, Annet?" + +"Yes, dear, I must go just the same," said the sister. + +"Certainly," said Père Michaux. "Erastus can not marry yet; he must go +through college, and afterward establish himself in life." + +"They could be married next spring," suggested Miss Lois: "we could help +them at the beginning." + +"Young Pronando is less of a man than I suppose, if he allows any one +save himself to take care of his wife," said Père Michaux, +sententiously. + +[Illustration: TITA LISTENING.] + +"Of course I shall not," said Rast, throwing back his handsome head with +an air of pride. + +"That is right; stand by your decision," said the priest. "And now let +us have tea. Enough has happened for one day, I think, and Rast must go +at dawn. He can write as many letters as he pleases, but in real life he +has now to show us what metal he is made of; I do not doubt but that it +will prove pure ore." + +Dr. Gaston sat silent; he drank his tea, and every now and then looked +at Anne. She was cheerful and contented; her eyes rested upon Rast with +confidence; she smiled when he spoke as if she liked to hear his voice; +but of consciousness, embarrassment, hesitation, there was not a trace. +The chaplain rubbed his forehead again and again, and pushed his wig so +far back that it looked like a brown aureole. But if he was perplexed, +Miss Lois was not; the happy old maid supplied all the consciousness, +archness, and sentimental necessities of the occasion. She had kept them +suppressed for years, and had a large store on hand. She radiated +romance. + +While they were taking tea, Tita entered, languid and indifferent as a +city lady. No, she did not care for any tea, she said; and when the +boys, all together, told her the great news, she merely smiled, fanned +herself, and said she had long expected it. + +Miss Lois looked up sharply, with the intention of contradicting this +statement, but Tita gazed back at her so calmly that she gave it up. + +After Père Michaux had left her in the hall, she had stolen to the back +door of the sitting-room, laid her ear on the floor close to the crack +under it, and overheard all. Then, trembling and silent, she crept up to +her own room, bolted the door, and, throwing herself down upon the +floor, rolled to and fro in a sort of frenzy. But she was a supple, +light little creature, and made no sound. When her anger had spent +itself, and she had risen to her feet, those below had no consciousness +that the ceiling above them had been ironed all over on its upper side +by the contact of a fierce little body, hot and palpitating wildly. + +Père Michaux threw himself into that evening with all the powers he +possessed fully alert; there were given so many hours to fill, and he +filled them. The young lover Rast, the sentimental Miss Lois, the +perplexed old chaplain, even the boys, all gave way to his influence, +and listened or laughed at his will. Only Tita sat apart, silent and +cold. Ten o'clock, eleven o'clock--it was certainly time to separate. +But the boys, although sleepy and irritable, refused to go to bed, and +fought with each other on the hearth-rug. Midnight; the old priest's +flow of fancy and wit was still in full play, and the circle unbroken. + +At last Dr. Gaston found himself yawning. "The world will not stop, even +if we do go to bed, my friends," he said, rising. "We certainly ought +not to talk or listen longer to-night." + +Père Michaux rose also, and linked his arm in Rast's. "I will walk home +with you, young sir," he said, cordially. "Miss Lois, we will take you +as far as your gate." + +Miss Lois was willing, but a little uncertain in her movements; inclined +toward delay. Would Anne lend her a shawl? And, when the young girl had +gone up stairs after it, would Rast take the candle into the hall, lest +she should stumble on her way down? + +"She will not stumble," said Père Michaux. "She never stumbled in her +life, Miss Lois. Of what are you thinking?" + +Miss Lois put on the shawl; and then, when they had reached the gate, +"Run back, Rast," she said; "I have left my knitting." + +"Here it is," said the priest, promptly producing it. "I saw it on the +table, and took charge of it." + +Miss Lois was very much obliged; but she was sure she heard some one +calling. Perhaps it was Anne. If Rast-- + +"Only a night-bird," said Père Michaux, walking on. He left Miss Lois at +the church-house; and then, linking his arm again in Rast's, accompanied +him to his lodgings. "I am going to give you a parting present," he +said--"a watch, the one I am wearing now. I have another, which will do +very well for this region." + +The priest's watch was a handsome one, and Rast was still young enough +to feel an immense satisfaction in such a possession. He took it with +many thanks, and frankly expressed delight. The old priest accompanied +his gift with fatherly good wishes and advice. It was now so late that +he would take a bed in the house, he thought. In this way, too, he would +be with Rast, and see the last of him. + +But love laughs at parsons. + +Père Michaux saw his charge to bed, and went to bed himself in an +adjoining room. He slept soundly; but at the first peep of dawn his +charge was gone--gone to meet Anne on the heights, as agreed between +them the night before. + +O wise Père Michaux! + +The sun was not yet above the horizon, but Anne was there. The youth +took her hands in his, and looked at her earnestly. He was half +surprised himself at what he had done, and he looked at her again to see +how it had happened. All his life from earliest childhood she had been +his dearest companion and friend; but now she was his betrothed wife, +would she be in any way different? The sun came up, and showed that she +was just the same--calm, clear-eyed, and sweet-voiced. What more could +he ask? + +"_Do_ you love me, Annet?" he said more than once, looking at her as +though she ought to be some new and only half-comprehended person. + +"You know I do," she answered. Then, as he asked again, "Why do you ask +me?" she said. "Has not my whole life shown it?" + +"Yes," he answered, growing more calm. "I believe you _have_ loved me +all your life, Annet." + +"I have," replied the girl. + +He kissed her gently. "I shall always be kind to you," he said. Then, +with a half-sigh, "You will like to live here?" + +"It is my home, Rast. However, other places will not seem strange after +I have seen the great city. For of course I must go to New York, just +the same, to learn to be a teacher, and help the children: we may be +separated for years." + +"Oh no; I shall be able to take care of you all before long," said Rast, +grandly. "As soon as I have been through college I shall look about and +decide upon something. Would you like me to be a lawyer? Or a surgeon? +Then there is always the army. Or we might have a farm." + +"There is only Frobisher's." + +"Oh, you mean here on the island? Well, Frobisher's would do. We could +repair the old house, and have a pony-cart, and drive in to town." Here +the steamer sounded its first whistle. That meant that it would start in +half an hour. Rast left the future and his plans in mid-air, and took +Anne in his arms with real emotion. "Good-by, dear, good-by," he said. +"Do not grieve, or allow yourself to be lonely. I shall see you soon in +some way, even if I have to go to New York for the purpose. Remember +that you are my betrothed wife now. That thought will comfort you." + +"Yes," said Anne, her sincere eyes meeting his. Then she clung to him +for a few moments, sobbing. "You must go away, and I must go away," she +said, amid her tears: "nothing is the same any more. Father is dead, and +the whole world will be between us. Nothing is the same any more. +Nothing is the same." + +"Distance is nothing nowadays," said the youth, soothing her; "I can +reach you in almost no time, Annet." + +"Yes, but nothing is the same any more; nothing ever will be the same +ever again," she sobbed, oppressed for the first time in her life by the +vague uncertainties of the future. + +"Oh yes, it will," said her companion, decidedly. "I will come back here +if you wish it so much, and you shall come back, and we will live here +on this same old island all our lives. A man has but to choose his home, +you know." + +Anne looked somewhat comforted. Yet only part of her responded to his +words; she still felt that nothing would ever be quite the same again. +She could not bring back her father; she could not bring back their long +happy childhood. The door was closed behind them, and they must now go +out into the wide world. + +The second whistle sounded--another fifteen minutes gone. They ran down +the steep path together, meeting Miss Lois on her way up, a green +woollen hood on her head as a protection against the morning air. + +"You will want a ring, my dears," she said, breathlessly, as she kissed +them--"an engagement ring; it is the custom, and fortunately I have one +for you." + +With a mixture of smiles and tears of delight and excitement, she took +from a little box an old-fashioned ring, and handed it to Rast. + +"It was your mother's, dear," she said to Anne; "your father gave it to +me as a memento of her when you were a baby. It is most fit that you +should wear it." + +Rast examined the slender little circlet without much admiration. It was +a hoop of very small rubies placed close together, with as little gold +visible as was possible. "I meant to give Annet a diamond," he said, +with the tone of a young duke. + +"Oh no, Rast," exclaimed the girl. + +"But take this for the present," urged the old maid. "You must not let +her go from you without one; it would be a bad sign. Put it on yourself, +Rast; I want to see you do it." + +Rast slipped the circlet into its place on Anne's finger, and then, with +a little flourish which became him well, he uncovered his head, bent his +knee, and raised the hand to his lips. + +"But you have put it on the right hand," said Miss Lois, in dismay. + +"It does not make any difference," said Rast. "And besides, I like the +right hand; it means more." + +Rast did not admire the old-fashioned ring, but to Anne it was both +beautiful and sacred. She gazed at it with a lovely light in her eyes, +and an earnest thoughtfulness. Any one could see how gravely she +regarded the little ceremony. + +When they came back to the house, Dr. Gaston was already there, and Père +Michaux was limping up the path from the gate. He caught sight of Rast +and Anne together. "Check!" he said to himself. "So much for being a +stupid old man. Outwitted yesterday by a rolling stone, and to-day by +your own inconceivable dullness. And you gave away your watch--did +you?--to prevent what has happened! The girl has probably bound herself +formally, and now you will have her conscience against you as well as +all the rest. Bah!" + +But while thinking this, he came forward and greeted them all happily +and cheerfully, whereas the old chaplain, who really had no especial +objection to the engagement, was cross and silent, and hardly greeted +anybody. He knew that he was ill-tempered, and wondered why he should +be. "Anything unexpected is apt to disturb the mind," he remarked, +apologetically, to the priest, taking out his handkerchief and +rubbing his forehead violently, as if to restore equanimity by +counter-circulation. But however cross or quiet the others might be, +Miss Lois beamed for all; she shed forth radiance like Roman candles +even at that early hour, when the air was still chill and the sky gray +with mist. The boys came down stairs with their clothes half on, and +then Rast said good-by, and hurried down to the pier, and they all stood +together on the old piazza, and watched the steamer back out into the +stream, turn round, and start westward, the point of the island soon +hiding it from view. Then Dr. Gaston took his unaccountable ill temper +homeward, Père Michaux set sail for the hermitage, Anne sat down to sew, +and only Miss Lois let every-day life take care of itself, and cried on. + +"I know there will be no more storms," she said; "it isn't that. But it +is everything that has happened, Anne dear: the engagement, and the +romance of it all!" + +Tita now entered: she had not appeared before. She required that fresh +coffee should be prepared for her, and she obtained it. For the Irish +soldier's wife was almost as much afraid of her as the boys were. She +glanced at Miss Lois's happy tears, at Anne's ruby ring, at the general +disorder. + +"And all this for a mere boy!" she said, superbly. + +Miss Lois stopped crying from sheer astonishment. "And pray, may I ask, +what are you?" she demanded. + +"A girl; and about on a line with the boy referred to," replied Miss +Tita, composedly. "Anne is much too old." + +The boys gave a laugh of scorn. Tita turned and looked at them, and they +took to the woods for the day. Miss Lois cried no more, but began to +sew; there was a vague dread in her heart as to what the winter would be +with Tita in the church-house. "If I could only cut off her hair!" she +thought, with a remembrance of Samson. "Never was such hair seen on any +child before." + +As Tita sat on her low bench, the two long thick braids of her black +hair certainly did touch the floor; and most New England women, who, +whether from the nipping climate or their Roundhead origin, have, as a +class, rather scanty locks, would have agreed with Miss Lois that "such +a mane" was unnatural on a girl of that age--indeed, intolerable. + +Amid much sewing, planning, and busy labor, time flew on. Dr. Gaston did +not pretend to do anything else now save come down early in the morning +to the Agency, and remain nearly all day, sitting in an arm-chair, +sometimes with a book before him, but hardly turning a page. His dear +young pupil, his almost child, was going away. He tried not to think how +lonely he should be without her. Père Michaux came frequently; he spoke +to Tita with a new severity, and often with a slight shade of sarcasm in +his voice. "Are you not a little too severe with her?" asked Miss Lois +one day, really fearing lest Tita, in revenge, might go out on some dark +night and set fire to the house. + +"He is my priest, isn't he, and not yours? He shall order me to do what +he pleases, and I shall do it," answered the small person whom she had +intended to defend. + +And now every day more and more beautiful grew the hues on the trees; it +was a last intensity of color before the long, cold, dead-white winter. +All the maple and oak leaves were now scarlet, orange, or crimson, each +hue vivid; they died in a glory to which no tropical leaf ever attains. +The air was warm, hazy, and still--the true air of Indian summer; and as +if to justify the term, the Indians on the mainland and islands were +busy bringing potatoes and game to the village to sell, fishing, cutting +wood, and begging, full of a tardy activity before the approach of +winter. Anne watched them crossing in their canoes, and landing on the +beach, and when occasionally the submissive, gentle-eyed squaws, +carrying their little pappooses, came to the kitchen door to beg, she +herself went out to see them, and bade the servant give them something. +They were Chippewas, dark-skinned and silent, wearing short calico +skirts, and a blanket drawn over their heads. Patient and uncomplaining +by nature, they performed almost all the labor on their small farms, +cooked for their lords and masters, and took care of the children, as +their share of the duties of life, the husbands being warriors, and +above common toil. Anne knew some of these Chippewa women personally, +and could talk to them in their own tongue; but it was not old +acquaintance which made her go out and see them now. It was the feeling +that they belonged to the island, to the life which she must soon leave +behind. She felt herself clinging to everything--to the trees, to the +white cliffs, to the very sunshine--like a person dragged along against +his will, who catches at every straw. + +The day came at last; the eastern-bound steamer was at the pier; Anne +must go. Dr. Gaston's eyes were wet; with choked utterance he gave her +his benediction. Miss Lois was depressed; but her depression had little +opportunity to make itself felt, on account of the clamor and wild +behavior of the boys, which demanded her constant attention. The clamor, +however, was not so alarming as the velvety goodness of Tita. What could +the child be planning? The poor old maid sighed, as she asked herself +this question, over the life that lay before her. But twenty such lives +would not wear out Lois Hinsdale. Père Michaux was in excellent spirits, +and kept them all in order. He calmed the boys, encouraged Anne, cheered +the old chaplain and Miss Lois, led them all down the street and on +board the boat, then back on the pier again, where they could see Anne +standing on the high deck above them. He shook the boys when they howled +in their grief too loudly, and as the steamer moved out into the stream +he gave his arm to Miss Lois, who, for the moment forgetting everything +save that the dear little baby whom she had loved so long was going +away, burst into convulsive tears. Tita sat on the edge of the pier, and +watched the boat silently. She did not speak or wave her handkerchief; +she shed no tears. But long after the others had gone home, when the +steamer was a mere speck low down on the eastern horizon, she sat there +still. + +Yes, Anne was gone. + +And now that she was gone, it was astonishing to see what a void was +left. No one had especially valued or praised her while she was there; +she was a matter of course. But now that she was absent, the whole life +of the village seemed changed. There was no one to lead the music on +Sundays, standing by the organ and singing clearly, and Miss Lois's +playing seemed now doubly dull and mechanical. There was no one going up +to the fort at a certain hour every morning, passing the windows where +the fort ladies sat, with books under her arm. There was no one working +in the Agency garden; no one coming with a quick step into the butcher's +little shop to see what he had, and consult him, not without hidden +anxiety, as to the possibility of a rise in prices. There was no one +sewing on the piazza, or going out to find the boys, or sailing over to +the hermitage with the four black-eyed children, who plainly enough +needed even more holy instruction than they obtained. They all knew +everything she did, and all her ways. And as it was a small community, +they missed her sadly. The old Agency, too, seemed to become suddenly +dilapidated, almost ruinous; the boys were undeniably rascals, and Tita +"a little minx." Miss Lois was without doubt a dogmatic old maid, and +the chaplain not what he used to be, poor old man--fast breaking up. +Only Père Michaux bore the test unaltered. But then he had not leaned +upon this young girl as the others had leaned--the house and garden, the +chaplain as well as the children: the strong young nature had in one way +supported them all. + +Meanwhile the girl herself was journeying down the lake. She stood at +the stern, watching the island grow distant, grow purple, grow lower and +lower on the surface of the water, until at last it disappeared; then +she covered her face and wept. After this, like one who leaves the +vanished past behind him, and resolutely faces the future, she went +forward to the bow and took her seat there. Night came on; she remained +on deck through the evening: it seemed less lonely there than among the +passengers in the cabin. She knew the captain; and she had been +especially placed in his charge, also, by Père Michaux, as far as one of +the lower-lake ports, where she was to be met by a priest and taken to +the eastern-bound train. The captain, a weather-beaten man, past middle +age, came after a while and sat down near her. + +"What is that red light over the shore-line?" said Anne to her taciturn +companion, who sat and smoked near by, protecting her paternally by his +presence, but having apparently few words, and those husky, at his +command. + +"Fire in the woods." + +"Is it not rather late in the season for a forest fire?" + +"Well, there it is," answered the captain, declining discussion of the +point in face of obvious fact. + +Anne had already questioned him on the subject of light-houses. Would he +like to live in a light-house? + +No, he would not. + +But they might be pleasant places in summer, with the blue water all +round them: she had often thought she would like to live in one. + +Well, _he_ wouldn't. + +But why? + +Resky places sometimes when the wind blew: give him a good stiddy boat, +now. + +After a time they came nearer to the burning forest. Anne could see the +great columns of flame shoot up into the sky; the woods were on fire for +miles. She knew that the birds were flying, dizzy and blinded, before +the terrible conqueror, that the wild-cats were crying like children, +that the small wolves were howling, and that the more timid wood +creatures were cowering behind fallen trunks, their eyes dilated and +ears laid flat in terror. She knew all this because she had often heard +it described, fires miles long in the pine forests being frequent +occurrences in the late summer and early autumn; but she had never +before seen with her own eyes the lurid splendor, as there was no +unbroken stretch of pineries on the Straits. She sat silently watching +the great clouds of red light roll up into the dark sky, and the shower +of sparks higher still. The advance-guard was of lapping tongues that +caught at and curled through the green wood far in front; then came a +wall of clear orange-colored roaring fire, then the steady incandescence +that was consuming the hearts of the great trees, and behind, the long +range of dying fires like coals, only each coal was a tree. It grew +late; she went to her state-room in order that the captain might be +relieved from his duty of guard. But for several hours longer she sat by +her small window, watching the flames, which turned to a long red line +as the steamer's course carried her farther from the shore. She was +thinking of those she had left behind, and of the island; of Rast, and +her own betrothal. The betrothal seemed to her quite natural; they had +always been together in the past, and now they would always be together +in the future; she was content that it was so. She knew so little of the +outside world that few forebodings as to her own immediate present +troubled her. She was on her way to a school where she would study hard, +so as soon to be able to teach, and help the children; the boys were to +be educated one by one, and after the first year, perhaps, she could +send for Tita, since Miss Lois never understood the child aright, +failing to comprehend her peculiar nature, and making her, poor little +thing, uncomfortable. It would be a double relief--to Miss Lois as well +as Tita. It was a pity that her grand-aunt was so hard and ill-tempered; +but probably she was old and infirm. Perhaps if she could see Tita, she +might take a fancy to the child; Tita was so small and so soft-voiced, +whereas she, Anne, was so overgrown and awkward. She gave a thought of +regret to her own deficiencies, but hardly a sigh. They were matters of +fact which she had long ago accepted. The coast fire had now faded into +a line of red dots and a dull light above them; she knelt down and +prayed, not without the sadness which a lonely young traveller might +naturally feel on the broad dark lake. + +At the lower-lake port she was met by an old French priest, one of Père +Michaux's friends, who took her to the railway station in a carriage, +bought her ticket, checked her trunk, gave her a few careful words of +instruction as to the journey, and then, business matters over, sat down +by her side and talked to her with enchanting politeness and ease until +the moment of departure. Père Michaux had arranged this: although not of +their faith, Anne was to travel all the way to New York in the care of +the Roman Catholic Church, represented by its priests, handed from one +to the next, and met at the entrance of the great city by another, who +would cross the river for the purpose, in order that her young island +eyes might not be confused by the crowd and turmoil. At first Dr. Gaston +had talked of escorting Anne in person; but it was so long since he had +travelled anywhere, and he was so absent-minded, that it was evident +even to himself that Anne would in reality escort him. Miss Lois had the +children, and of course could not leave them. + +"I would go myself if there was any necessity for it," said Père +Michaux, "but there is not. Let me arrange it, and I promise you that +Anne shall reach her school in safety; I will have competent persons to +meet her all along the route--unless, indeed, you have friends of your +own upon whom you prefer to rely?" + +This was one of the little winds which Père Michaux occasionally sent +over the self-esteem of his two Protestant companions: he could not help +it. Dr. Gaston frowned: he had not an acquaintance between New York and +the island, and Père Michaux knew it. But Miss Lois, undaunted, rushed +into the fray. + +"Oh, certainly, it would be quite easy for us to have her met by friends +on the way," she began, making for the moment common and Protestant +cause with Dr. Gaston; "it would require only a few letters. In New +England I should have my own family connections to call upon--persons of +the highest respectability, descendants, most of them, of the celebrated +patriot Israel Putnam." + +"Certainly," replied Père Michaux. "I understand. Then I will leave Anne +to you." + +"But unfortunately, as Anne is going to New York, not Boston, my +connections do not live along the route, exactly," continued Miss Lois, +the adverb standing for a small matter of a thousand miles or so; "nor," +she added, again admitting Dr. Gaston to a partnership, "can we make +them." + +"There remain, then, the pastors of your church," said the priest. + +"Certainly--the pastors. It will be the simplest thing in the world for +Dr. Gaston to write to them; they will be delighted to take charge of +any friend of ours." + +The chaplain pushed his wig back a little, and murmured, "Church +Almanac." + +Miss Lois glanced at him angrily. "I am sure I do not know what Dr. +Gaston means by mentioning 'Church Almanac' in that way," she said, +sharply. "We know most of the prominent pastors, of course. Dr. +Shepherd, for instance, and Dr. Dell." + +Dr. Shepherd and Dr. Dell, who occasionally came up to the island during +the summer for a few days of rest, lived in the lower-lake town where +Anne's long railway journey began. They were not pastors, but rectors, +and the misuse of the terms grated on the chaplain's Anglican ear. But +he was a patient man, and accustomed now to the heterogeneous phrasing +of the Western border. + +"And besides," added Miss Lois, triumphantly, "there is the bishop!" + +Now the bishop lived five miles farther. It was not evident, therefore, +to the ordinary mind what aid these reverend gentlemen could give to +Anne, all living, as they did, at the western beginning of her railway +journey; but Miss Lois, who, like others of her sex, possessed the +power (unattainable by man) of rising above mere logical sequence, felt +that she had conquered. + +"I have no bishops to offer," said Père Michaux, with mock humility; +"only ordinary priests. I will therefore leave Anne to your care, Miss +Lois--yours and Dr. Gaston's." + +So the discussion ended, and Miss Lois came off with Protestant colors +flying. None the less Père Michaux wrote his letters; and Dr. Gaston did +not write his. For the two men understood each other. There was no need +for the old chaplain to say, plainly, "I have lived out of the world so +long that I have not a single clerical friend this side of New York upon +whom I can call"; the priest comprehended it without words. And there +was no need for Père Michaux to parade the close ties and net-work of +communication which prevailed in the ancient Church to which he +belonged; the chaplain knew them without the telling. Each understood +the other; and being men, they could do without the small teasing +comments, like the buzzing of flies, with which women enliven their +days. Thus it happened that Anne Douglas travelled from the northern +island across to the great city on the ocean border in the charge of the +Roman Catholic Church. + +She arrived in New York worn out and bewildered, and having lost her +sense of comparison by the strangeness and fatigue of the long journey, +she did not appreciate the city's size, the crowded streets, and roar of +traffic, but regarded everything vaguely, like a tired child who has +neither surprise nor attention to give. + +At length the carriage stopped; she went up a broad flight of stone +steps; she was entering an open door. Some one was speaking to her; she +was in a room where there were chairs, and she sank down. The priest who +had brought her from the other side of the river was exchanging a few +words with a lady; he was going; he was gone. The lady was coming toward +her. + +"You are very tired, my child;" she said. "Let me take you a moment to +Tante, and then you can go to your room." + +"To Tante?" said Anne. + +"Yes, to Tante, or Madame Moreau, the principal of the school. She +expects you." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + "Manners--not what, but _how_. Manners are happy ways of doing + things; each once a stroke of genius or of love--now repeated and + hardened into usage. Manners require time; nothing is more vulgar + than haste."--EMERSON. + + +Madame Moreau was a Frenchwoman, small and old, with a thin shrewd face +and large features. She wore a plain black satin gown, the narrow skirt +gathered in the old-fashioned style, and falling straight to the floor; +the waist of the gown, fastened behind, was in front plaited into a long +rounded point. Broad ruffles of fine lace shielded her throat and hands, +and her cap, garnished with violet velvet, was trimmed with the same +delicate fabric. She was never a handsome woman even in youth, and she +was now seventy-five years of age; yet she was charming. + +She rose, kissed the young girl lightly on each cheek, and said a few +words of welcome. Her manner was affectionate, but impersonal. She never +took fancies; but neither did she take dislikes. That her young ladies +were all charming young persons was an axiom never allowed to be brought +into question; that they were simply and gracefully feminine was with +equal firmness established. Other schools of modern and American origin +might make a feature of public examinations, with questions by bearded +professors from boys' colleges; but the establishment of Madame Moreau +knew nothing of such innovations. The Frenchwoman's idea was not a bad +one; good or bad, it was inflexible. She was a woman of marked +character, and may be said to have accomplished much good in a +mannerless generation and land. Thoroughly French, she was respected and +loved by all her American scholars; and it will be long ere her name +and memory fade away. + +Miss Vanhorn did not come to see her niece until a week had passed. Anne +had been assigned to the lowest French class among the children, had +taken her first singing lesson from one Italian, fat, rosy, and smiling, +and her first Italian lesson from another, lean, old, and soiled, had +learned to answer questions in the Moreau French, and to talk a little, +as well as to comprehend the fact that her clothes were remarkable, and +that she herself was considered an oddity, when one morning Tante sent +word that she was to come down to the drawing-room to see a visitor. + +The visitor was an old woman with black eyes, a black wig, shining false +teeth, a Roman nose, and a high color (which was, however, natural), and +she was talking to Tante, who, with her own soft gray hair, and teeth +which if false did not appear so, looked charmingly real beside her. +Miss Vanhorn was short and stout; she was muffled in an India shawl, and +upon her hands were a pair of cream-colored kid gloves much too large +for her, so that when she fumbled, as she did every few moments, in an +embroidered bag for aromatic seeds coated with sugar, she had much +difficulty in finding them, owing to the empty wrinkled ends of the +glove fingers. She lifted a gold-rimmed eye-glass to her eyes as Anne +entered, and coolly inspected her. + +"Dear me! dear me!" she said. Then, in execrable French, "What can be +done with such a young savage as this?" + +"How do you do, aunt?" said Anne, using the conventional words with a +slight tremor in her voice. This was the woman who had brought up her +mother--her dear, unremembered mother. + +"Grandaunt," said Miss Vanhorn, tartly. "Sit down; I can not bear to +have people standing in front of me. How old are you?" + +"I am seventeen, grandaunt." + +[Illustration: "DEAR ME, WHAT CAN BE DONE WITH SUCH A YOUNG SAVAGE?"] + +Miss Vanhorn let her eyeglass drop, and groaned. "_Can_ anything be done +with her?" she asked, closing her eyes tightly, and turning toward +Tante, while Anne flushed crimson, not so much from the criticism as the +unkindness. + +"Oh yes," said Tante, taking the opportunity given by the closed eyes to +pat the young girl's hand encouragingly. "Miss Douglas is very +intelligent; and she has a fine mezzo-soprano voice. Signor Belzini is +much pleased with it. It would be well, also, I think, if you would +allow her to take a few dancing lessons." + +"She will have no occasion for dancing," answered Miss Vanhorn, still +with her eyes closed. + +"It was not so much for the dancing itself as for grace of carriage," +replied Tante. "Miss Douglas has a type of figure rare among American +girls." + +"I should say so, indeed!" groaned the other, shaking her head gloomily, +still voluntarily blinded. + +"But none the less beautiful in its way," continued Tante, unmoved. "It +is the Greek type." + +"I am not acquainted with any Greeks," replied Miss Vanhorn. + +"You are still as devoted as ever to the beautiful and refined study of +plant life, dear madame," pursued Tante, changing the current of +conversation. "How delightful to have a young relative to assist you, +with the fresh and ardent interest belonging to her age, when the +flowers bloom again upon the rural slopes of Haarderwyck!" As Tante said +this, she looked off dreamily into space, as if she saw aunt and niece +wandering together through groves of allegorical flowers. + +"She is not likely to see Haarderwyck," answered Miss Vanhorn. Then, +after a moment's pause--a pause which Tante did not break--she peered at +Anne with half-open eyes, and asked, abruptly, "Do you, then, know +anything of botany?" + +Tante made a slight motion with her delicate withered old hand. But Anne +did not comprehend her, and answered, honestly, "No, grandaunt, I do +not." + +"Bah!" said Miss Vanhorn; "I might have known without the asking. Make +what you can of her, madame. I will pay your bill for one year: no +longer. But no nonsense, no extras, mind that." Again she sought a +caraway seed, pursuing it vindictively along the bottom of her bag, and +losing it at the last, after all. + +"As regards wardrobe, I would advise some few changes," said Tante, +smoothly. "It is one of my axioms that pupils study to greater advantage +when their thoughts are not disturbed by deficiencies in dress. +Conformity to our simple standard is therefore desirable." + +"It may be desirable; it is not always, on that account, attainable," +answered Miss Vanhorn, conveying a finally caught seed to her mouth, +dropping it at the last moment, and carefully and firmly biting the seam +of the glove finger in its place. + +"Purchases are made for the pupils with discretion by one of our most +experienced teachers," continued Tante. + +"Glad to hear it," said her visitor, releasing the glove finger, and +pretending to chew the seed which was not there. + +"But I do not need anything, Tante," interposed Anne, the deep color +deepening in her cheeks. + +"So much the better," said her grandaunt, dryly, "since you will have +nothing." + +She went away soon afterward somewhat placated, owing to skillful +reminiscences of a favorite cousin, who, it seemed, had been one of +Tante's "dearest pupils" in times past; "a true Vanhorn, worthy of her +Knickerbocker blood." The word "Neeker-bo-ker," delicately comprehended, +applied, and, what was more important still, limited, was one of Tante's +most telling achievements--a shibboleth. She knew all the old Dutch +names, and remembered their intermarriages; she was acquainted with the +peculiar flavor of Huguenot descent; she comprehended the especial +aristocracy of Tory families, whose original property had been +confiscated by a raw republic under George Washington. Ah! skillful old +Tante, what a general you would have made! + +Anne Douglas, the new pupil, was now left to face the school with her +island-made gowns, and what courage she could muster. Fortunately the +gowns were black and severely plain. Tante, not at all disturbed by +Miss Vanhorn's refusal, ordered a simple cloak and bonnet for her +through an inexpensive French channel, so that in the street she passed +unremarked; but, in the house, every-day life required more courage than +scaling a wall. Girls are not brutal, like boys, but their light wit is +pitiless. The Southern pupils, provided generously with money in the +lavish old-time Southern way, the day scholars, dressed with the +exquisite simplicity of Northern school-girls of good family, glanced +with amusement at the attire of this girl from the Northwest. This girl, +being young, felt their glances; as a refuge, she threw herself into her +studies with double energy, and gaining confidence respecting what she +had been afraid was her island patois, she advanced so rapidly in the +French classes that she passed from the lowest to the highest, and was +publicly congratulated by Tante herself. In Italian her progress was +more slow. Her companion, in the class of two, was a beautiful dark-eyed +Southern girl, who read musically, but seldom deigned to open her +grammar. The forlorn, soiled old exile to whom, with unconscious irony, +the bath-room had been assigned for recitations in the crowded house, +regarded this pupil with mixed admiration and despair. Her remarks on +Mary Stuart, represented by Alfieri, were nicely calculated to rouse him +to patriotic fury, and then, when the old man burst forth in a torrent +of excited words, she would raise her soft eyes in surprise, and inquire +if he was ill. The two girls sat on the bath-tub, which was decorously +covered over and cushioned; the exile had a chair for dignity's sake. +Above, in a corresponding room, a screen was drawn round the tub, and a +piano placed against it. Here, all day long, another exile, a German +music-master, with little gold rings in his ears, gave piano lessons, +and Anne was one of his pupils. To Signor Belzini, the teacher of vocal +music, the drawing-room itself was assigned. He was a prosperous and +smiling Italian, who had a habit of bringing pieces of pink cream candy +with him, and arranging them in a row on the piano for his own +refreshment after each song. There was an atmosphere of perfume and +mystery about Belzini. It was whispered that he knew the leading +opera-singers, even taking supper with them sometimes after the opera. +The pupils exhausted their imaginations in picturing to each other the +probable poetry and romance of these occasions. + +Belzini was a musical trick-master; but he was not ignorant. When Anne +came to take her first lesson, he smiled effusively, as usual, took a +piece of candy, and, while enjoying it, asked if she could read notes, +and gave her the "Drinking Song" from _Lucrezia Borgia_ as a trial. Anne +sang it correctly without accompaniment, but slowly and solemnly as a +dead march. It is probable that "Il Segreto" never heard itself so sung +before or since. Belzini was walking up and down with his plump hands +behind him. + +"You have never heard it sung?" he said. + +"No," replied Anne. + +"Sing something else, then. Something you like yourself." + +After a moment's hesitation, Anne sang an island ballad in the voyageur +patois. + +"May I ask who has taught you, mademoiselle?" + +"My father," said the pupil, with a slight tremor in her voice. + +"He must be a cultivated musician, although of the German school," said +Belzini, seating himself at the piano and running his white fingers over +the keys. "Try these scales." + +It was soon understood that "the islander" could sing as well as study. +Tolerance was therefore accorded to her. But not much more. It is only +in "books for the young" that poorly clad girls are found leading whole +schools by the mere power of intellectual or moral supremacy. The +emotional type of boarding-school, also, is seldom seen in cities; its +home is amid the dead lethargy of a winter-bound country village. + +The great event in the opening of Anne's school life was her first +opera. Tante, not at all blinded by the country garb and silence of the +new pupil, had written her name with her own hand upon the opera list +for the winter, without consulting Miss Vanhorn, who would, however, +pay for it in the end, as she would also pay for the drawing and dancing +lessons ordered by the same autocratic command. For it was one of +Tante's rules to cultivate every talent of the agreeable and decorative +order which her pupils possessed; she bathed them as the photographer +bathes his shadowy plate, bringing out and "setting," as it were, as +deeply as possible, their colors, whatever they happened to be. Tante +always attended the opera in person. Preceded by the usher, the old +Frenchwoman glided down the awkward central aisle of the Academy of +Music, with her inimitable step, clad in her narrow satin gown and all +her laces, well aware that tongues in every direction were saying: +"There is Madame Moreau at the head of her school, as usual. What a +wonderful old lady she is!" While the pupils were filing into their +places, Tante remained in the aisle fanning herself majestically, and +surveying them with a benignant smile. When all were seated, with a +graceful little bend she glided into her place at the end, the motion of +sitting down and the bend fused into one in a manner known only to +herself. + +Anne's strong idealism, shown in her vivid although mistaken conceptions +of Shakspeare's women, was now turned into the channel of opera music. +After hearing several operas, she threw herself into her Italian songs +with so much fervor that Belzini sat aghast; this was not the manner in +which demoiselles of private life should sing. Tante, passing one day +(by the merest chance, of course) through the drawing-room while Anne +was singing, paused a moment to listen. "Ma fille," she said, when the +song was ended, tapping Anne's shoulder affably, "give no more +expression to the Italian words you sing than to the syllables of your +scales. Interpretations are not required." The old Frenchwoman always +put down with iron hand what she called the predominant tendency toward +too great freedom--sensationalism--in young girls. She spent her life in +a constant struggle with the American "jeune fille." + +During this time Rast wrote regularly; but his letters, not being +authorized by Miss Vanhorn, Anne's guardian, passed first through the +hands of one of the teachers, and the knowledge of this inspection +naturally dulled the youth's pen. But Anne's letters to him passed the +same ordeal without change in word or in spirit. Miss Lois and Dr. +Gaston wrote once a week; Père Michaux contented himself with +postscripts added to the long, badly spelled, but elaborately worded +epistles with which Mademoiselle Tita favored her elder sister. It was +evident to Anne that Miss Lois was having a severe winter. + +The second event in Anne's school life was the gaining of a friend. + +At first it was but a musical companion. Helen Lorrington lived not far +from the school; she was one of Tante's old scholars, and this Napoleon +of teachers especially liked this pupil, who was modelled after her own +heart. Helen held what may be called a woman's most untrammelled +position in life, namely, that of a young widow, protected but not +controlled, rich, beautiful, and without children. She was also heir to +the estate of an eccentric grandfather, who detested her, yet would not +allow his money to go to any collateral branch. He detested her because +her father was a Spaniard, whose dark eyes had so reprehensibly +fascinated his little Dutch daughter that she had unexpectedly plucked +up courage to marry in spite of the paternal prohibition, and not only +that, but to be very happy also during the short portion of life +allotted to her afterward. The young Spanish husband, with an +unaccountable indifference to the wealth for which he was supposed to +have plotted so perseveringly, was pusillanimous enough to die soon +afterward, leaving only one little pale-faced child, a puny girl, to +inherit the money. The baby Helen had never possessed the dimples and +rose tints that make the beauty of childhood; the girl Helen had not the +rounded curves and peach-like bloom that make the beauty of youth. At +seventeen she was what she was now; therefore at seventeen she was old. +At twenty-seven she was what she was then; therefore at twenty-seven she +was young. + +She was tall, and extremely, marvellously slender; yet her bones were +so small that there were no angles visible in all her graceful length. +She was a long woman; her arms were long, her throat was long, her eyes +and face were long. Her form, slight enough for a spirit, was as natural +as the swaying grasses on a hill-side. She was as flexible as a ribbon. +Her beauties were a regally poised little head, a delicately cut +profile, and a remarkable length of hair; her peculiarities, the color +of this hair, the color of her skin, and the narrowness of her eyes. The +hue of her hair was called flaxen; but it was more than that--it was the +color of bleached straw. There was not a trace of gold in it, nor did it +ever shine, but hung, when unbound, a soft even mass straight down below +the knee. It was very thick, but so fine that it was manageable; it was +never rough, because there were no short locks. The complexion which +accompanied this hair was white, with an under-tint of ivory. There are +skins with under-tints of pink, of blue, and of brown; but this was +different in that it shaded off into cream, without any indication of +these hues. This soft ivory-color gave a shade of fuller richness to the +slender straw-haired woman--an effect increased by the hue of the eyes, +when visible under the long light lashes. For Helen's eyes were of a +bright dark unexpected brown. The eyes were so long and narrow, however, +that generally only a line of bright brown looked at you when you met +their gaze. Small features, narrow cheeks, delicate lips, and little +milk-white teeth, like a child's, completed this face which never had a +red tint, even the lips being but faintly colored. There were many men +who, seeing Helen Lorrington for the first time, thought her exquisitely +beautiful; there were others who, seeing her for the first time, thought +her singularly ugly. The _second_ time, there was never a question. Her +grandfather called her an albino; but he was nearly blind, and could +only see the color of her hair. He could not see the strong brown light +of her eyes, or the soft ivory complexion, which never changed in the +wind, the heat, or the cold. + +Mrs. Lorrington was always dressed richly, but after a fashion of her +own. Instead of disguising the slenderness of her form, she intensified +it; instead of contrasting hues, she often wore amber tints like her +hair. Amid all her silks, jewels, and laces, there was always supreme +her own personality, which reduced her costumes to what, after all, +costumes should be, merely the subordinate coverings of a beautiful +woman. + +Helen had a clear, flute-like voice, with few low notes, and a +remarkably high range. She continued her lessons with Belzini whenever +she was in the city, more in order that he might transpose her songs for +her than for any instruction he could now bestow. She was an old pupil +of his, and the sentimental Italian adored her; this adoration, however, +did not prevent him from being very comfortable at home with his portly +wife. One morning Helen, coming in for a moment to leave a new song, +found Anne at the piano taking her lesson. Belzini, always anxious to +please his fair-haired divinity, motioned to her to stay and listen. +Anne's rich voice pleased her ears; but she had heard rich voices +before. What held her attention now was the girl herself. For although +Helen was a marvel of self-belief, although she made her own peculiar +beauty an object of worship, and was so saturated with knowledge of +herself that she could not take an attitude which did not become her, +she yet possessed a comprehension of other types of beauty, and had, if +not an admiration for, at least a curiosity about, them. In Anne she +recognized at once what Tante had also recognized--unfolding beauty of +an unfamiliar type, the curves of a nobly shaped form hidden under an +ugly gown, above the round white throat a beautiful head, and a +singularly young face shadowed by a thoughtfulness which was very grave +and impersonal when compared with the usual light, self-centred +expressions of young girls' faces. At once Helen's artistic eye had Anne +before her, robed in fit attire; in imagination she dressed her slowly +from head to foot as the song went on, and was considering the question +of jewels when the music ceased, and Belzini was turning toward her. + +"I hope I may become better acquainted with this rich voice," she said, +coming back gracefully to the present. "May I introduce myself? I +should like to try a duet with you, if you will allow me, Miss--" + +"Douglas," said Belzini; "and this, mademoiselle, is Mrs. Lorrington." + +Such was the beginning. + +In addition to Helen's fancy for Anne's fair grave face, the young +girl's voice proved a firmer support for her high soprano than it had +ever obtained. Her own circle in society and the music classes had been +searched in vain more than once. For she needed a soprano, not a +contralto. And as soprani are particularly human, there had never been +any lasting co-operation. Anne, however, cheerfully sang whatever +Belzini put before her, remained admiringly silent while Helen executed +the rapid runs and trills with which she always decorated her part, and +then, when the mezzo was needed again, gave her full voice willingly, +supporting the other as the notes of an organ meet and support a flute +after its solo. + +Belzini was in ecstasies; he sat up all night to copy music for them. He +said, anxiously, to Helen: "And the young girl? You like her, do you +not? Such a voice for you!" + +"But I can not exactly buy young girls, can I?" said Mrs. Lorrington, +smiling. + +More and more, however, each day she liked "the young girl" for herself +alone. She was an original, of course; almost an aboriginal; for she +told the truth exactly upon all occasions, appropriate or inappropriate, +and she had convictions. She was not aware, apparently, of the +old-fashioned and cumbrous appearance of these last-named articles of +mental furniture. But the real secret of Helen's liking lay in the fact +that Anne admired her, and was at the same time neither envious nor +jealous, and from her youth she had been troubled by the sure +development of these two feelings, sooner or later, in all her girl +companions. In truth, Helen's lot _was_ enviable; and also, whether +consciously or unconsciously, she had a skill in provoking jealousy. She +was the spoiled child of fortune. It was no wonder, therefore, that +those of her own sex and age seldom enjoyed being with her: the +contrast was too great. Helen was, besides, the very queen of Whim. + +The queen of Whim! By nature; which means that she had a highly +developed imagination. By the life she had led, having never, save for +the six short months of her husband's adoring rule, been under the +control, or even advice, of any man. For whim can be thoroughly +developed only in feminine households: it is essentially feminine. And +Helen had been brought up by a maiden aunt, who lived alone. A man, +however mild, demands in a home at least a pretense of fixed hours and +regularity; only a household of women is capable of no regularity at +all, of changing the serious dinner hour capriciously, and even giving +up dinner altogether. Only a household of women has sudden inspirations +as to journeys and departures within the hour; brings forth sudden ideas +as to changes of route while actually on the way, and a going southward +instead of westward, with a total indifference to supper. Helen's +present whim was Anne. + +"I want you to spend part of the holidays with me," she said, a few days +before Christmas. "Come on Monday, and stay over New-Year's Day." + +"Oh, I can not," said Anne, startled. + +"Why not? Tante will consent if I ask her; she always does. Do you love +this crowded house so much that you can not leave it?" + +"It is not that. But--" + +"But you are shy. But Miss Vanhorn might not like it. You do not know +Aunt Margaretta. You have no silk gown. Now let _me_ talk. I will write +to Miss Vanhorn. Aunt Margaretta is as gentle as a dove. I am bold +enough for two. And the silk dress shall come from me." + +"I could not take that, Mrs. Lorrington." + +"Because you are proud?" + +"No; but because I would rather not. It would be too great an +obligation." + +"You repay me by your voice a thousandfold, Anne. I have never had the +right voice for mine until now; and therefore the obligation is on my +side. I do not speak of the pleasure your visit will give me, because I +hope to make that mutual. But say no more. I intend to have my way." + +And she had her way. "I have always detested Miss Vanhorn, with her +caraway seeds, and her malice," she explained to Tante. "Much as I like +Anne for herself alone, it will be delicious also to annoy the old +dragon by bringing into notice this unknown niece whom she is hiding +here so carefully. Now confess, Tante, that it will be delicious." + +Tante shook her head reprovingly. But she herself was in her heart by no +means fond of Miss Vanhorn; she had had more than one battle royal with +that venerable Knickerbocker, which had tested even her celebrated +suavity. + +Helen's note was as follows: + + * * * * * + +"DEAR MISS VANHORN,--I very much wish to persuade your charming niece, +Miss Douglas, to spend a portion of the holidays with me. Her voice is +marvellously sweet, and Aunt Margaretta is most anxious to hear it; +while _I_ am desirous to have her in my own home, even if but for a few +days, in order that I may learn more of her truly admirable qualities, +which she inherits, no doubt, from your family. + +"I trust you will add your consent to Tante's, already willingly +bestowed, and make me thereby still more your obliged friend, + +"HELEN ROOSBROECK LORRINGTON." + + * * * * * + +The obliged friend had the following answer: + + * * * * * + +"Miss Vanhorn presents her compliments to Mrs. Lorrington, with thanks +for her note, which, however, was an unnecessary attention, Miss Vanhorn +claiming no authority over the movements of Anne Douglas (whose +relationship to her is remote), beyond a due respect for the rules of +the institution where she has been placed. Miss Vanhorn is gratified to +learn that Miss Douglas's voice is already of practical use to her, and +has the honor of remaining Mrs. Lorrington's obliged and humble servant. + +"MADISON SQUARE, _Tuesday_." + + * * * * * + +Tears sprang to Anne's eyes when Helen showed her this note. + +"Why do you care? She was always a dragon; forget her. Now, Anne, +remember that it is all understood, and the carriage will come for you +on Monday." Then, seeing the face before her still irresolute, she +added: "If you are to have pupils, some of them may be like me. You +ought, therefore, to learn how to manage _me_, you know." + +"You are right," said Anne, seriously. "It is strange how little +confidence I feel." + +Helen, looking at her as she stood there in her island gown, coarse +shoes, and old-fashioned collar, did not think it strange at all, but +wondered, as she had wondered a hundred times before, why it was that +this girl did not think of herself and her own appearance. "And you must +let me have my way, too, about something for you to wear," she added. + +"It shall be as you wish, Helen. It can not be otherwise, I suppose, if +I go to you. But--I hope the time will come when I can do something for +you." + +"Never fear; it will. I feel it instinctively. You will either save my +life or take it--one or the other; but I am not sure which." + +Monday came; and after her lonely Christmas, Anne was glad to step into +Miss Teller's carriage, and be taken to the home on the Avenue. The +cordial welcome she received there was delightful to her, the luxury +novel. She enjoyed everything simply and sincerely, from the late +breakfast in the small warm breakfast-room, from which the raw light of +the winter morning was carefully excluded, to the chat with Helen over +the dressing-room fire late at night, when all the house was still. +Helen's aunt, Miss Teller, was a thin, light-eyed person of fifty-five +years of age. Richly dressed, very tall, with a back as immovable and +erect as though made of steel, and a tower of blonde lace on her head, +she was a personage of imposing aspect, but in reality as mild as a +sheep. + +"Yes, my dear," she said, when Anne noticed the tinted light in the +breakfast-room; "I take great care about light, which I consider an +influence in our households too much neglected. The hideous white glare +in most American breakfast-rooms on snowy winter mornings has often made +me shudder when I have been visiting my friends; only the extremely +vigorous can enjoy this sharp contact with the new day. Then the +æsthetic effect: children are always homely when the teeth are changing +and the shoulder-blades prominent; and who wishes to see, besides, each +freckle and imperfection upon the countenances of those he loves? I have +observed, too, that even morning prayer, as a family observance, fails +to counter-act the influence of this painful light. For if as you kneel +you cover your face with your hands, the glare will be doubly unbearable +when you remove them; and if you do _not_ cover your brow, you will +inevitably blink. Those who do not close their eyes at all are the most +comfortable, but I trust we would all prefer to suffer rather than be +guilty of such irreverence." + +"Now that is Aunt Gretta exactly," said Helen, as Miss Teller left the +room. "When you are once accustomed to her height and blonde caps, you +will find her soft as a down coverlet." + +Here Miss Teller returned. "My dear," she said, anxiously, addressing +Anne, "as to soap for the hands--what kind do you prefer?" + +"Anne's hands are beautiful, and she will have the white soap in the +second box on the first shelf of the store-room--the rose; _not_ the +heliotrope, which is mine," said Helen, taking one of the young girl's +hands, and spreading out the firm taper fingers. "See her wrists! Now my +wrists are small too, but then there is nothing but wrist all the way +up." + +"My dear, your arms have been much admired," said Miss Margaretta, with +a shade of bewilderment in her voice. + +"Yes, because I choose they shall be. But when I spoke of Anne's hands, +I spoke artistically, aunt." + +"Do you expect Mr. Blum to-day?" said Miss Teller. + +"Oh no," said Helen, smiling. "Mr. Blum, Anne, is a poor artist whom +Aunt Gretta is cruel enough to dislike." + +"Not on account of his poverty," said Miss Margaretta, "but on account +of my having half-brothers, with large families, all with weak lungs, +taking cold, I may say, at a breath--a mere breath; and Mr. Blum insists +upon coming here without overshoes when there has been a thaw, and +sitting all the evening in wet boots, which naturally makes me think of +my brothers' weak families, to say nothing of the danger to himself." + +"Well, Mr. Blum is not coming. But Mr. Heathcote is." + +"Ah." + +"And Mr. Dexter may." + +"I am always glad to see Mr. Dexter," said Aunt Margaretta. + +Mr. Heathcote did not come; Mr. Dexter did. But Anne was driving with +Miss Teller, and missed the visit. + +"A remarkable man," said the elder lady, as they sat at the dinner table +in the soft radiance of wax lights. + +"You mean Mr. Blum?" said Helen. "This straw-colored jelly exactly +matches me, Anne." + +"I mean Mr. Dexter," said Miss Teller, nodding her head impressively. +"Sent through college by the bounty of a relative (who died immediately +afterward, in the most reprehensible way, leaving him absolutely +nothing), Gregory Dexter, at thirty-eight, is to-day a man of modern and +distinct importance. Handsome--you do not contradict me there, Helen?" + +"No, aunt." + +"Handsome," repeated Miss Teller, triumphantly, "successful, moral, +kind-hearted, and rich--what would you have more? I ask you, Miss +Douglas, what would you have more?" + +"Nothing," said Helen. "Anne has confided to me--nothing. Long live +Gregory Dexter! And I feel sure, too, that he will outlive us all. I +shall go first. You will see. I always wanted to be first in +everything--even the grave." + +"My dear!" said Miss Margaretta. + +"Well, aunt, now would you like to be last? Think how lonely you would +be. Besides, all the best places would be taken," said Helen, in +business-like tones, taking a spray of heliotrope from the vase before +her. + +New-Year's Day was, in the eyes of Margaretta Teller, a solemn festival; +thought was given to it in June, preparation for it began in September. +Many a call was made at the house on that day which neither Miss +Margaretta, nor her niece, Mrs. Lorrington, attracted, but rather the +old-time dishes and the old-time punch on their dining-room table. Old +men with gouty feet, amateur antiquarians of mild but obstinate aspect, +to whom Helen was "a slip of a girl," and Miss Margaretta still too +youthful a person to be of much interest, called regularly on the old +Dutch holiday, and tasted this New-Year's punch. They cherished the idea +that they were thus maintaining the "solid old customs," and they spoke +to each other in moist, husky under-tones when they met in the hall, as +much as to say, "Ah, ah! you here? That's right--that's right. A +barrier, sir--a barrier against modern innovation!" + +Helen had several friends besides Anne to assist her in receiving, and +the young island girl remained, therefore, more or less unnoticed, owing +to her lack of the ready, graceful smiles and phrases which are the +current coin of New-Year's Day. She passed rapidly through the different +phases of timidity, bewilderment, and fatigue; and then, when more +accustomed to the scene, she regained her composure, and even began to +feel amused. She ceased hiding behind the others; she learned to repeat +the same answers to the same questions without caring for their inanity; +she gave up trying to distinguish names, and (like the others) massed +all callers into a constantly arriving repetition of the same person, +who was to be treated with a cordiality as impersonal as it was +glittering. She tried to select Mr. Dexter, and at length decided that +he was a certain person standing near Helen--a man with brown hair and +eyes; but she was not sure, and Helen's manner betrayed nothing. + +The fatiguing day was over at last, and then followed an hour or two of +comparative quiet; the few familiar guests who remained were glad to +sink down in easy-chairs, and enjoy connected sentences again. The faces +of the ladies showed fine lines extending from the nostril to the chin; +the muscles that had smiled so much were weary. + +And now Anne discovered Gregory Dexter; and he was not the person she +had selected. Mr. Dexter was a tall, broad-shouldered man, with an +appearance of persistent vigor in his bearing, and a look of +determination in his strong, squarely cut jaw and chin. His face was +rather short, with good features and clear gray eyes, which met the +gazer calmly; and there was about him that air of self-reliance which +does not irritate in a large strong man, any more than imperiousness in +a beautiful woman. + +The person with brown eyes proved to be Mr. Heathcote. He seemed +indolent, and contributed but few words to the general treasury of +conversation. + +Mr. Blum was present also; but on this occasion he wore the peculiarly +new, shining, patent-leather boots dear to the hearts of his countrymen +on festal occasions, and Miss Teller's anxieties were quiescent. Helen +liked artists; she said that their ways were a "proud assertion that a +ray of beauty outvalued all the mere utilities of the world." + +"Are bad boots rays of beauty?" inquired Miss Margaretta. + +"Yes. That is, a man whose soul is uplifted by art may not always +remember his boots; to himself, no doubt, his feet seem winged." + +"Very far from winged are Blum's feet," responded Miss Margaretta, +shaking her head gravely. "Very, very far." + +Late in the evening, when almost all the guests had departed, Helen +seemed seized with a sudden determination to bring Anne into +prominence. Mr. Dexter still lingered, and the artist. Also Ward +Heathcote. + +"Anne, will you sing now? First with me, then alone?" she said, going to +the piano. + +A bright flush rose in Anne's face; the prominent blue eyes of the +German artist were fixed upon her; Gregory Dexter had turned toward her +with his usual prompt attention. Even the indolent Heathcote looked up +as Helen spoke. But having once decided to do a thing, Anne knew no way +save to do it; having accepted Helen's generous kindness, she must now +do what Helen asked in return. She rose in silence, and crossed the +brightly lighted room on her way to the piano. Few women walk well; by +well, is meant naturally. Helen was graceful; she had the lithe shape +and long step which give a peculiar swaying grace, like that of elm +branches. Yet Helen's walk belonged to the drawing-room, or at best the +city pavement; one could not imagine her on a country road. Anne's gait +was different. As she crossed the room alone, it drew upon her for the +first time the full attention of the three gentlemen who were present. +Blum stared gravely. Dexter's eyes moved up to her face, as if he saw it +now with new interest. Heathcote leaned back on the sofa with an amused +expression, glancing from Anne to Helen, as if saying, "I understand." + +Anne wore one of Helen's gifts, a soft silk of pale gray, in deference +to her mourning garb; the dress was high over the shoulders, but cut +down squarely in front and behind, according to a fashion of the day. +The sleeves came to the elbow only; the long skirt was severely plain. +They had taken off their gloves, and the girl's beautiful arms were +conspicuous, as well as her round, full, white throat. + +The American Venus is thin. + +American girls are slight; they have visible collar-bones and elbows. +When they pass into the fullness of womanhood (if they pass at all), it +is suddenly, leaving no time for the beautiful pure virginal outlines +which made Anne Douglas an exception to her kind. Anne's walk was +entirely natural, her poise natural; yet so perfect were her +proportions that even Tante, artificial and French as she was, refrained +from the suggestions and directions as to step and bearing which +encircled the other pupils like an atmosphere. + +The young girl's hair had been arranged by Helen's maid, under Helen's +own direction, in a plain Greek knot, leaving the shape of the head, and +the small ear, exposed; and as she stood by the piano, waiting, she +looked (as Helen had intended her to look) like some young creature from +an earlier world, startled and shy, yet too proud to run away. + +They sang together; and in singing Anne recovered her self-possession. +Then Helen asked her to sing without accompaniment a little island +ballad which was one of her favorites, and leading her to the centre of +the room, left her there alone. Poor Anne! But, moved by the one desire +of pleasing Helen, she clasped her hands in simple child-like fashion, +and began to sing, her eyes raised slightly so as to look above the +faces of her audience. It was an old-fashioned ballad or chanson, in the +patois of the voyageurs, with a refrain in a minor key, and it told of +the vanishing of a certain petite Marie, and the sorrowing of her +mother--a common-place theme long drawn out, the constantly recurring +refrain, at first monotonous, becoming after a while sweet to the ear, +like the wash of small waves on a smooth beach. But it was the ending +upon which Helen relied for her effect. Suddenly the lament of the +long-winded mother ended, the time changed, and a verse followed +picturing the rapture of the lovers as they fled away in their +sharp-bowed boat, wing and wing, over the blue lake. Anne sang this as +though inspired; she forgot her audience, and sang as she had always +sung it on the island for Rast and the children. Her voice floated +through the house, she shaded her eyes with her hand, and leaned +forward, gazing, as though she saw the boat across the water, and then +she smiled, as, with a long soft note, the song ended. + +But the instant it was over, her timidity came back with double force, +and she hastily sought refuge beside Helen, her voice gone, in her eyes +a dangerous nearness to tears. + +There was now an outburst of compliments from Blum; but Helen kindly met +and parried them. Mr. Dexter began a few well-chosen sentences of +praise; but in the midst of his fluent adjectives, Anne glanced up so +beseechingly that he caught the mist in her eyes, and instantly ceased. +Nor was this all; he opened a discussion with Miss Teller, dragging in +Heathcote also (against the latter's will), and thus secured for Anne +the time to recover herself. She felt this quick kindness, and was +grateful. She decided that she liked him; and she wondered whether Helen +liked him also. + +The next morning the fairy-time was over; she went back to school. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + "There are three sorts of egoists: those who live themselves and + let others live; those who live themselves and don't let others + live; and those who neither live themselves nor let others live." + + "With thoughts and feelings very simple but very + strong."--TOURGUÉNIEFF. + + +The winter passed. The new pupil studied with diligence, and insisted +upon learning the beginnings of piano-playing so thoroughly that the +resigned little German master with ear-rings woke up and began to ask +her whether she could not go through a course of ten years or so, and +become "a real blayer, not like American blayers, who vant all to learn +de same biece, and blay him mit de loud pedal down." Sometimes Helen +bore her away to spend a Sunday; but there were no more New-Year's Days, +or occasions for the gray silk. When together at Miss Teller's, the two +sat over the dressing-room fire at night, talking with that delightful +mixture of confidence and sudden little bits of hypocrisy in which women +delight, and which undress seems to beget. The bits of hypocrisy, +however, were all Helen's. + +She had long ago gathered from Anne her whole simple history; she was +familiar with the Agency, the fort, Miss Lois, Père Michaux, Dr. +Gaston, Rast, Tita, and the boys, even old Antoine and his dogs, René +and Lebeau. Anne, glad to have a listener, had poured out a flood of +details from her lonely homesick heart, going back as far as her own +lost mother, and her young step-mother Angélique. But it was not until +one of these later midnight talks that the girl had spoken of her own +betrothal. Helen was much surprised--the only surprise she had shown. "I +should never have dreamed it, Crystal!" she exclaimed. "Never!" (Crystal +was her name for Anne.) + +"Why not?" + +"Because you are so--young." + +"But it often happens at my age. The fort ladies were married at +eighteen and nineteen, and my own dear mother was only twenty." + +"You adore this Rast, I suppose?" + +"Yes, I like him." + +"Nonsense! You mean that you adore him." + +"Perhaps I do," said Anne, smiling. "I have noticed that our use of +words is different." + +"And how long have you adored him?" + +"All my life." + +The little sentence came forth gravely and sincerely. Helen surveyed the +speaker with a quizzical expression in her narrow brown eyes. "No one +'adores' all one's life," she answered. Then, as Anne did not take up +the challenge, she paused, and, after surveying her companion in silence +for a moment, added, "There is no time fixed as yet for this marriage?" + +"No; Rast has his position to make first. And I myself should be better +pleased to have four or five years to give to the children before we are +married. I am anxious to educate the boys." + +"Bon!" said Helen. "All will yet end well, Virginie. My compliments to +Paul. It is a pretty island pastoral, this little romance of yours; you +have my good wishes." + +The island pastoral was simple indeed compared with the net-work of +fancies and manoeuvres disclosed by Helen. Her life seemed to be a drama. +Her personages were masked under fictitious names; the Poet, the +Haunted Man, the Knight-errant, the Chanting Tenor, and the Bishop, all +figured in her recitals, to which Anne listened with intense interest. +Helen was a brilliant story-teller. She could give the salient points of +a conversation, and these only. She colored everything, of course, +according to her own fancy; but one could forgive her that for her +skillful avoidance of dull details, whose stupid repetition, simply +because they are true, is a habit with which many good people are +afflicted. + +The narrations, of course, were of love and lovers: it is always so in +the midnight talks of women over the dying fire. Even the most secluded +country girl will on such occasions unroll a list as long as +Leporello's. The listener may know it is fictitious, and the narrator +may know that she knows it. But there seems to be a fascination in the +telling and the hearing all the same. + +Helen amused herself greatly over the deep interest Anne took in her +stories; to do her justice, they were generally true, the conversations +only being more dramatic than the reality had been. This was not Helen's +fault; she performed her own part brilliantly, and even went over, on +occasion, and helped on the other side. But the American man is not +distinguished for conversational skill. This comes, not from dullness or +lack of appreciation, but rather from overappreciation. Without the +rock-like slow self-confidence of the Englishman, the Frenchman's +never-failing wish to please, or the idealizing powers of the German, +the American, with a quicker apprehension, does not appear so well in +conversation as any one of these compeers. He takes in an idea so +quickly that elaborate comment seems to him hardly worth while; and thus +he only has a word or two where an Englishman has several +well-intentioned sentences, a Frenchman an epigram, and a German a whole +cloud of philosophical quotations and comments. But it is, more than all +else, the enormous strength which ridicule as an influence possesses in +America that makes him what he is; he shrinks from the slightest +appearance of "fine talking," lest the ever-present harpies of mirth +should swoop down and feed upon his vitals. + +Helen's friends, therefore, might not always have recognized themselves +in her sparkling narratives, as far as their words were concerned; but +it is only justice to them to add that she was never obliged to +embellish their actions. She related to Anne apart, during their music +lessons, the latest events in a whisper, while Belzini gave two minutes +to cream candy and rest; the stories became the fairy tales of the +school-girl's quiet life. Through all, she found her interest more and +more attracted by "the Bishop," who seemed, however, to be anything but +an ecclesiastical personage. + +Miss Vanhorn had been filled with profound astonishment and annoyance by +Helen's note. She knew Helen, and she knew Miss Teller: what could they +want of Anne? After due delay, she came in her carriage to find out. + +Tante, comprehending her motive, sent Anne up stairs to attire herself +in the second dress given by Helen--a plain black costume, simply but +becomingly made, and employed the delay in talking to her visitor +mellifluously on every conceivable subject save the desired one. She +treated her to a dissertation on intaglii, to an argument or two on +architecture, and was fervently asking her opinion of certain recently +exhibited relics said to be by Benvenuto Cellini, when the door opened +and Anne appeared. + +The young girl greeted her grandaunt with the same mixture of timidity +and hope which she had shown at their first interview. But Miss +Vanhorn's face stiffened into rigidity as she surveyed her. + +"She is impressed at last," thought the old Frenchwoman, folding her +hands contentedly and leaning back in her chair, at rest (temporarily) +from her labors. + +But if impressed, Miss Vanhorn had no intention of betraying her +impression for the amusement of her ancient enemy; she told Anne curtly +to put on her bonnet, that she had come to take her for a drive. Once +safely in the carriage, she extracted from her niece, who willingly +answered, every detail of her acquaintance with Helen, and the holiday +visit, bestowing with her own eyes, meanwhile, a close scrutiny upon the +black dress, with whose texture and simplicity even her angry annoyance +could find no fault. + +"She wants to get something out of you, of course," she said, abruptly, +when the story was told; "Helen Lorrington is a thoroughly selfish +woman. I know her well. She introduced you, I suppose, as Miss Vanhorn's +niece?" + +"Oh no, grandaunt. She has no such thought." + +"What do you know of her thoughts! You continue to go there?" + +"Sometimes, on Sundays--when she asks me." + +"Very well. But you are not to go again when company is expected; I +positively forbid it. You were not brought down from your island to +attend evening parties. You hear me?" + +"Yes." + +"Perhaps you are planning for a situation here at Moreau's next winter?" +said the old woman, after a pause, peering at Anne suspiciously. + +"I could not fill it, grandaunt; I could only teach in a country +school." + +"At Newport, or some such place, then?" + +"I could not get a position of that kind." + +"Mrs. Lorrington could help you." + +"I have not asked her to help me." + +"I thought perhaps she had some such idea of her own," continued Miss +Vanhorn. "You can probably prop up that fife-like voice of hers in a way +she likes; and besides, you are a good foil for her, with your big +shoulders and bread-and-milk face. You little simpleton, don't you know +that to even the most skillful flirt a woman friend of some kind or +other is necessary as background and support?" + +"No, I did not know it," said Anne, in a disheartened voice. + +"What a friend for Helen Lorrington! No wonder she has pounced upon you! +You would never see one of her manoeuvres, although done within an inch +of you. With your believing eyes, and your sincerity, you are worth your +weight in silver to that straw-faced mermaid. But, after all, I do not +interfere. Let her only obtain a good situation for you next year, and +pay you back in more useful coin than fine dresses, and I make no +objection." + +She settled herself anew in the corner of the carriage, and began the +process of extracting a seed, while Anne, silent and dejected, gazed +into the snow-covered street, asking herself whether Helen and all this +world were really as selfish and hypocritical as her grandaunt +represented. But these thoughts soon gave way to the predominant one, +the one that always came to her when with Miss Vanhorn--the thought of +her mother. + +"During the summer, do you still live in the old country house on the +Hudson, grandaunt?" + +Miss Vanhorn, who had just secured a seed, dropped it. "I am not aware +that my old country house is anything to you," she answered, tartly, +fitting on her flapping glove-fingers, and beginning a second search. + +A sob rose in Anne's throat; but she quelled it. Her mother had spent +all her life, up to the time of her marriage, at that old river +homestead. + +Soon after this, Madame Moreau sent out cards of invitation for one of +her musical evenings. Miss Vanhorn's card was accompanied by a little +note in Tante's own handwriting. + + * * * * * + +"The invitation is merely a compliment which I give myself the pleasure +of paying to a distinguished patron of my school" (wrote the old French +lady). "There will be nothing worthy of her ear--a simple school-girls' +concert, in which Miss Douglas (who will have the kind assistance of +Mrs. Lorrington) will take part. I can not urge, for so unimportant an +affair, the personal presence of Miss Vanhorn; but I beg her to accept +the inclosed card as a respectful remembrance from + +"HORTENSE-PAULINE MOREAU." + + * * * * * + +"That will bring her," thought Tante, sealing the missive, in her +old-fashioned way, with wax. + +She was right; Miss Vanhorn came. + +Anne sang first alone. Then with Helen. + +"Isn't that Mrs. Lorrington?" said a voice behind Miss Vanhorn. + +"Yes. My Louise tells me that she has taken up this Miss Douglas +enthusiastically--comes here to sing with her almost every day." + +"Who is the girl?" + +Miss Vanhorn prepared an especially rigid expression of countenance for +the item of relationship which she supposed would follow. But nothing +came; Helen was evidently waiting for a more dramatic occasion. She felt +herself respited; yet doubly angry and apprehensive. + +When the song was ended, there was much applause of the subdued +drawing-room kind--applause, however, plainly intended for Helen alone. +Singularly enough, Miss Vanhorn resented this. "If I should take Anne, +dress her properly, and introduce her as my niece, the Lorrington would +be nowhere," she thought, angrily. It was the first germ of the idea. + +It was not allowed to disappear. It grew and gathered strength slowly, +as Tante and Helen intended it should; the two friendly conspirators +never relaxed for a day their efforts concerning it. Anne remained +unconscious of these manoeuvres; but the old grandaunt was annoyed, and +urged, and flattered, and menaced forward with so much skill that it +ended in her proposing to Anne, one day in the early spring, that she +should come and spend the summer with her, the children on the island to +be provided for meanwhile by an allowance, and Anne herself to have a +second winter at the Moreau school, if she wished it, so that she might +be fitted for a higher position than otherwise she could have hoped to +attain. + +"Oh, grandaunt!" cried the girl, taking the old loosely gloved hand in +hers. + +"There is no occasion for shaking hands and grandaunting in that way," +said Miss Vanhorn. "If you wish to do what I propose, do it; I am not +actuated by any new affection for you. You will take four days to +consider; at the end of that period, you may send me your answer. But, +with your acceptance, I shall require the strictest obedience. And--no +allusion whatever to your mother." + +"What are to be my duties?" asked Anne, in a low voice. + +"Whatever I require," answered the old woman, grimly. + +At first Anne thought of consulting Tante. But she had a strong +under-current of loyalty in her nature, and the tie of blood bound her +to her grandaunt, after all: she decided to consult no one but herself. +The third day was Sunday. In the twilight she sat alone on her narrow +bed, by the window of the dormitory, thinking. It was a boisterous March +evening; the wildest month of the twelve was on his mad errands as +usual. Her thoughts were on the island with the children; would it not +be best for them that she should accept the offered allowance, and go +with this strange grandaunt of hers, enduring as best she might her cold +severity? Miss Lois's income was small; the allowance would make the +little household comfortable. A second winter in New York would enable +her to take a higher place as teacher, and also give the self-confidence +she lacked. Yes; it was best. + +But a great and overwhelming loneliness rose in her heart at the thought +of another long year's delay before she could be with those she loved. +Rast's last letter was in her pocket; she took it out, and held it in +her hand for comfort. In it he had written of the sure success of his +future; and Anne believed it as fully as he did. Her hand grew warmer as +she held the sheet, and as she recalled his sanguine words. She began to +feel courageous again. Then another thought came to her: must she tell +Miss Vanhorn of her engagement? In their new conditions, would it not be +dishonest to keep the truth back? "I do not see that it can be of any +interest to her," she said to herself. "Still, I prefer to tell her." +And then, having made her decision, she went to Tante. + +Tante was charmed with the news (and with the success of her plan). She +discoursed upon family affection in very beautiful language. "You will +find a true well-spring of love in the heart of your venerable +relative," she remarked, raising her delicate handkerchief, like the +suggestion of a happiness that reached even to tears. "Long, long have I +held your cherished grandaunt in a warm corner of my memory and heart." + +This was true as regarded the time and warmth; only the latter was of a +somewhat peppery nature. + +The next morning Helen was told the news. She threw back her head in +comic despair. "The old dragon has taken the game out of my hands at +last," she said, "and ended all the sport. Excuse the title, Anne. But I +am morally certain she has all sorts of vinegarish names for me. And +now--am I to congratulate you upon your new home?" + +"It is more a matter of duty, I think, than congratulation," said Anne, +thoughtfully. "And next, I must tell her of my engagement." + +"I wouldn't, if I were you, Crystal." + +"Why?" + +"She would rather have you free." + +"I shall be free, as far as she is concerned." + +"Do not be too sure of that. And take my advice--do not tell her." + +Anne, however, paid no heed to this admonition; some things she did +simply because she could not help doing them. She had intended to make +her little confession immediately; but Miss Vanhorn gave her no +opportunity. "That is enough talking," she said. "I have neuralgia in my +eyebrow." + +"But, grandaunt, I feel that I ought to tell you." + +"Tell me nothing. Don't you know how to be silent? Set about learning, +then. When I have neuralgia in my eyebrow, you are to speak only from +necessity; when I have it in the eye itself, you are not to speak at +all. Find me a caraway, and don't bungle." + +She handed her velvet bag to Anne, and refitted the fingers of her +yellow glove: evidently the young girl's duties were beginning. + +Several days passed, but the neuralgia always prevented the story. At +last the eyebrow was released, and then Anne spoke. "I wish to tell +you, grandaunt, before I come to you, that I am engaged--engaged to be +married." + +"Who cares?" said Miss Vanhorn. "To the man in the moon, I suppose; most +school-girls are." + +"No, to--" + +"Draw up my shawl," interrupted the old woman. "_I_ do not care who it +is. Why do you keep on telling me?" + +"Because I did not wish to deceive you." + +"Wait till I ask you not to deceive me. Who is the boy?" + +"His name is Erastus Pronando," began Anne; "and--" + +"Pronando?" cried Katharine Vanhorn, in a loud, bewildered +voice--"Pronando? And his father's name?" + +"John, I believe," said Anne, startled by the change in the old face. +"But he has been dead many years." + +Old Katharine rose; her hands trembled, her eyes flashed. "You will give +up this boy at once and forever," she said, violently, "or my compact +with you is at an end." + +"How can I, grandaunt? I have promised--" + +"I believe I am mistress of my own actions; and in this affair I will +have no sort of hesitation," continued the old woman, taking the words +from Anne, and tapping a chair back angrily with her hand. "Decide +now--this moment. Break this engagement, and my agreement remains. +Refuse to break it, and it falls. That is all." + +"You are unjust and cruel," said the girl, roused by these arbitrary +words. + +Miss Vanhorn waved her hand for silence. + +"If you will let me tell you, aunt--" + +The old woman bounded forward suddenly, as if on springs, seized her +niece by both shoulders, and shook her with all her strength. "There!" +she said, breathless. "_Will_ you stop talking! All I want is your +answer--yes, or no." + +The drawing-room of Madame Moreau had certainly never witnessed such a +sight as this. One of its young ladies shaken--yes, absolutely shaken +like a refractory child! The very chairs and tables seemed to tremble, +and visibly hope that there was no one in the _salon des élèves_, +behind. + +Anne was more startled than hurt by her grandaunt's violence. "I am +sorry to displease you," she said, slowly and very gravely; "but I can +not break my engagement." + +Without a word, Miss Vanhorn drew her shawl round her shoulders, pinned +it, crossed the room, opened the door, and was gone. A moment later her +carriage rolled away, and Anne, alone in the drawing-room, listened to +the sound of the wheels growing fainter and fainter, with a chilly +mixture of blank surprise, disappointment, and grief filling her heart. +"But it _was_ right that I should tell her," she said to herself as she +went up stairs--"it _was_ right." + +Right and wrong always presented themselves to her as black and white. +She knew no shading. She was wrong; there are grays. But, so far in her +life, she had not been taught by sad experience to see them. "It _was_ +right," she repeated to Helen, a little miserably, but still +steadfastly. + +"I am not so sure of that," replied Mrs. Lorrington. "You have lost a +year's fixed income for those children, and a second winter here for +yourself; and for what? For the sake of telling the dragon something +which does not concern her, and which she did not wish to know." + +"But it was true." + +"Are we to go out with trumpets and tell everything we know, just +because it is true? Is there not such a thing as egotistical +truthfulness?" + +"It makes no difference," said Anne, despairingly. "I had to tell her." + +"You are stubborn, Crystal, and you see but one side of a question. But +never fear; we will circumvent the dragon yet. I wonder, though, why she +was so wrought up by the name Pronando? Perhaps Aunt Gretta will know." + +Miss Teller did not know; but one of the husky-voiced old gentlemen who +kept up the "barrier, sir, against modern innovation," remembered the +particulars (musty and dusty now) of Kate Vanhorn's engagement to one of +the Pronandos--the wild one who ran away. He was younger than she was, a +handsome fellow (yes, yes, he remembered it all now), and "she was +terribly cut up about it, and went abroad immediately." Abroad--great +panacea for American woes! To what continent can those who live "abroad" +depart when trouble seizes _them_ in its pitiless claws? + +Time is not so all-erasing as we think. Old Katharine Vanhorn, at +seventy, heard from the young lips of her grandniece the name which had +not been mentioned in her presence for nearly half a century--the name +which still had power to rouse in her heart the old bitter feeling. For +John Pronando had turned from her to an uneducated common girl--a +market-gardener's daughter. The proud Kate Vanhorn resented the +defection instantly; she broke the bond of her betrothal, and sailed for +England before Pronando realized that she was offended. This idyl of the +gardener's daughter was but one of his passing amusements; and so he +wrote to his black-browed goddess. But she replied that if he sought +amusement of that kind during the short period of betrothal, he would +seek it doubly after marriage, and _then_ it would not be so easy to +sail for Europe. She considered that she had had an escape. Pronando, +handsome, light-hearted, and careless, gave up his offended Juno without +much heartache, and the episode of Phyllis being by this time finished, +he strayed back to his Philadelphia home, to embroil himself as usual +with his family, and, later, to follow out the course ordained for him +by fate. Kate Vanhorn had other suitors; but the old wound never healed. + +"Come and spend the summer with me," said Helen. "I trust I am as +agreeable as the dragon." + +"No; I must stay here. Even as it is, she is doing a great deal for me; +I have no real claim upon her," replied Anne, trying not to give way to +the loneliness that oppressed her. + +"Only that of being her nearest living relative, and natural heir." + +"I have not considered the question of inheritance," replied the island +girl, proudly. + +"I know you have not; yet it is there. Old ladies, however, instead of +natural heirs, are apt to prefer unnatural ones--cold-blooded Societies, +Organizations, and the endless Heathen. But I am in earnest about the +summer, Crystal: spend it with me." + +"You are always generous to me," said Anne, gratefully. + +"No; I never was generous in my life. I do not know how to be generous. +But this is the way it is: I am rich; I want a companion; and I like +_you_. Your voice supports mine perfectly, and is not in the least too +loud--a thing I detest. Besides, we look well together. You are an +excellent background for me; you make me look poetic; whereas most women +make me look like a caricature of myself--of what I really am. As though +a straw-bug should go out walking with a very attenuated grasshopper. +Now if the straw-bug went out always with a plump young toad or +wood-turtle, people might be found to admire even _his_ hair-like +fineness of limb and yellow transparency, by force, you know, of +contrast." + +Anne laughed; but there was also a slight change of expression in her +face. + +"I can read you, Crystal," said Helen, laughing in her turn. "Old +Katharine has already told you all those things--sweet old lady! She +understands me so well! Come; call it selfishness or generosity, as you +please; but accept." + +"It is generosity, Helen; which, however, I must decline." + +"It must be very inconvenient to be so conscientious," said Mrs. +Lorrington. "But mind, I do not give it up. What! lose so good a +listener as you are? To whom, then, can I confide the latest particulars +respecting the Poet, the Bishop, the Knight-errant, and the Haunted +Man?" + +"I like the Bishop," said Anne, smiling back at her friend. She had +acquired the idea, without words, that Helen liked him also. + +The story of Miss Vanhorn's change was, of course, related to Tante: +Anne had great confidence both in the old Frenchwoman's kindness of +heart and excellent judgment. + +Tante listened, asked a question or two, and then said: "Yes, yes, I +see. For the present, nothing more can be done. She will allow you to +finish your year here, and as the time is of value to you, you shall +continue your studies through the vacation. But not at my New Jersey +farm, as she supposes; at a better place than that. You shall go to +Pitre." + +"A place, Tante?" + +"No; a friend of mine, and a woman." + +Mademoiselle Jeanne-Armande Pitre was not so old as Tante (Tante had +friends of all ages); she was about fifty, but conveyed the impression +of never having been young. "She is an excellent teacher," continued the +other Frenchwoman, "and so closely avaricious that she will be glad to +take you even for the small sum you will pay. She is employed in a +Western seminary somewhere, but always returns to this little house of +hers for the summer vacation. Your opportunity for study with her will +be excellent; she has a rage for study. Write and tell your grandaunt, +ma fille, what I have decided." + +"Ma fille" wrote; but Miss Vanhorn made no reply. + +Early in June, accompanied by "monsieur," Anne started on her little +journey. The German music master said farewell with hearty regret. He +was leaving also; he should not be with Madame Moreau another winter, he +said. The Italian atmosphere stifled him, and the very sight of Belzini +made him "dremble vit a er-righteous er-rage." He gave Anne his address, +and begged that she would send to him when she wanted new music; "music +_vort_ someding." Monsieur Laurent, Anne's escort, was a nephew of +Tante's, a fine-looking middle-aged Frenchman, who taught the verbs with +a military air. But it was not so much his air as his dining-room which +gave him importance in the eyes of the school. The "salle à manger de +monsieur" was a small half-dark apartment, where he took his meals by +himself. It was a mysterious place; monsieur was never seen there; it +was not known even at what hour he dined. But there were stories in +whispered circulation of soups, sauces, salads, and wines served there +in secret, which made the listeners hungry even in the mere recital. +They peered into the dim little room as they passed, but never saw +anything save a brown linen table-cloth, an old caster, and one chair. +It was stated, however, that this caster was not a common caster, but +that it held, instead of the ordinary pepper and mustard, various +liquids and spices of mysterious nature, delightfully and wickedly +French. + +In less than an hour the travellers reached Lancaster. Here monsieur +placed Anne in a red wagon which was in waiting, said good-by hastily +(being, perhaps, in a hurry to return to his dining-room), and caught +the down train back to the city. He had lived in America so long that he +could hurry like a native. + +The old horse attached to the red wagon walked slowly over a level +winding road, switching his tail to and fro, and stopping now and then +to cough, with the profundity which only a horse's cough possesses. At +last, turning into a field, he stopped before what appeared to be a +fragment of a house. + +"Is this the place?" said Anne, surprised. + +"It's Miss Peter's," replied the boy driver. + +The appearance of Mademoiselle Pitre in person at the door now removed +all doubt as to her abode. "I am glad to see you," she said, extending a +long yellow hand. "Enter." + +The house, which had never been finished, was old; the sides and back +were of brick, and the front of wood, temporarily boarded across. The +kitchen and one room made all the depth; above, there were three small +chambers. After a while, apparently, windows and a front door had been +set in the temporary boarding, and a flight of steps added. Mademoiselle +had bought the house in its unfinished condition, and had gradually +become an object of great unpopularity in the neighborhood because, as +season after season rolled by, she did nothing more to her purchase. +What did she mean, then? Simple comment swelled into suspicion; the +penny-saving old maid was now considered a dark and mysterious person at +Lancaster. Opinions varied as to whether she had committed a crime in +her youth, or intended to commit one in her age. At any rate, she was +not like other people--in the country a heinous crime. + +The interior of this half-house was not uncomfortable, although arranged +with the strictest economy. The chief room had been painted a brilliant +blue by the skillful hands of mademoiselle herself; there was no carpet, +but in summer one can spare a carpet; and Anne thought the bright color, +the growing plants and flowers, the gayly colored crockery, the four +white cats, the sunshine, and the cool open space unfilled by furniture, +quaintly foreign and attractive. + +The mistress of the house was tall and yellow. She was attired in a +black velvet bodice, and a muslin skirt whereon a waving design, like an +endless procession of spindling beet roots, or fat leeches going round +and round, was depicted in dark crimson. This muslin was secretly +admired in the neighborhood; but as mademoiselle never went to church, +and, what was worse, made no change in her dress on the Sabbath-day, it +was considered a step toward rationalism to express the liking. + +Anne slept peacefully on her narrow bed, and went down to a savory +breakfast the next morning. The old Irish servant, Nora, who came out +from the city every summer to live with mademoiselle, prepared with +skill the few dishes the careful mistress ordered. But when the meal was +over, Anne soon discovered that the careful mistress was also an expert +in teaching. Her French, Italian, music, and drawing were all reviewed +and criticised, and then Jeanne-Armande put on her bonnet, and told her +pupil to make ready for her first lesson in botany. + +"Am I to study botany?" said Anne, surprised. + +[Illustration: IN THE WOODS.] + +"All study botany who come to me," replied Jeanne-Armande, much in the +tone of "Lasciate ogni speranza voi ch' entrate." "Is that all the +bonnet you have? It is far too fine. I will buy you a Shaker at the +shop." And with her tin flower case slung from her shoulder, she +started down the road toward the country store at the corners; here +she bought a Shaker bonnet for her pupil, selecting one that was bent, +and demanding a reduction in price in consequence of the "irreparable +injury to the fibre of the fabric." The shop-keeper, an anxious little +man with a large family, did his best to keep on good terms with "the +foreigner" privately, and to preserve on other occasions that appearance +of virtuous disapproval which the neighborhood required of him. He lived +haunted by a fear lest the Frenchwoman and her chief detractors should +meet face to face in the narrow confines of his domain; and he had long +determined that in case of such event he would be down in the cellar +drawing molasses--an operation universally known to consume time. But +the sword of Damocles does not fall; in this instance, as in others, +mademoiselle departed in safety, bearing Anne away to the woods, her +face hidden in the depths of the Shaker. + +Wild flowers, that seem so fresh and young, are, singularly enough, the +especial prey of old maids. Young girls love the garden flowers; +beautiful women surround themselves with hot-house hues and perfumes. +But who goes into the woods, explores the rocky glens, braves the +swamps? Always the ardent-hearted old maid, who, in her plain garb and +thick shoes, is searching for the delicate little wild blossoms, the +world over. + +Jeanne-Armande had an absorbing love for flowers, a glowing enthusiasm +for botany. She now taught Anne the flower study with what Tante would +have called "a rage." More than once the pupil thought how strange it +was that fate should have forced into her hands at this late hour the +talisman that might once have been the key to her grandaunt's favor. It +did not occur to her that Tante was the Fate. + +Letters had come from all on the island, and from Rast. Regarding her +course in telling Miss Vanhorn of her engagement, Miss Lois wrote that +it was "quite unnecessary," and Dr. Gaston that it was "imprudent." Even +Rast (this was hardest to bear) had written, "While I am proud, dearest, +to have your name linked with mine, still, I like better to think of the +time when I can come and claim you in person, in the face of all the +grandaunts in the world, who, if they _knew_ nothing, could not in the +mean time harass and annoy you." + +Père Michaux made no comment. Anne looked through Tita's letters for +some time expectantly, but no message in his small, clear handwriting +appeared. + +The weeks passed. The pupil learned the real kindness of the teacher, +and never thought of laughing at her oddities, until--Helen came. + +For Helen came: on her way home from her grandfather's bedside, whither +she had been summoned (as usual two or three times each year) "to see +him die." + +"Grandpapa always recovers as soon as I enter the door," she said. "I +should think he would insist upon my living there as a safeguard! This +time I did not even see him--he did not wish me in the room; and so, +having half a day to spare, I decided to send my maid on, and stop over +and see _you_, Crystal." + +Anne, delighted and excited, sat looking at her friend with happy eyes. +"I am so glad, glad, to see you!" she said. + +"Then present me to your hostess and jailer. For I intend to remain +overnight, and corrupt the household." + +Jeanne-Armande was charmed with their visitor; she said she was "a lady +decidedly as it should be." Helen accompanied them on their botany walk, +observed the velvet bodice and beet-root muslin, complimented the +ceremonious courses of the meagre little dinner, and did not laugh until +they were safely ensconced in Anne's cell for the night. + +"But, Crystal," she said, when she had imitated Jeanne-Armande, and Anne +herself as pupil, with such quick and ridiculous fidelity that Anne was +obliged to bury her face in the pillow to stifle her laughter, "I have a +purpose in coming here. The old dragon has appeared at Caryl's, where +Aunt Gretta and I spent last summer, and where we intend to spend the +remainder of this; she is even there to-night, caraway seeds, malice, +and all. Now I want you to go back with me, as my guest for a week or +two, and together we will annihilate her." + +"Do not call her by that name, Helen." + +"Not respectful enough? Grand Llama, then; the double l scintillates +with respect. The Grand Llama being present, I want to bring you on the +scene as a charming, botanizing, singing niece whom she has strangely +neglected. Will you go?" + +"Of course I can not." + +"You have too many principles; and, mind you, principles are often +shockingly egotistical and selfish. I would rather have a mountain of +sins piled up against me on the judgment-day, and a crowd of friends +whom I had helped and made happy, than the most snowy empty pious record +in the world, and no such following." + +"One does not necessitate the other," said Anne, after her usual pause +when with Helen: she was always a little behind Helen's fluent phrases. +"One can have friends without sins." + +"Wait and see," said Helen. + +In the morning the brilliant visitor took her departure, and the +half-house fell back into its usual quietude. Anne did not go with +Helen; but Helen avowed her purpose of bringing her to Caryl's yet, in +spite of fate. "I am not easily defeated," she said. "When I wish a +thing, it always happens. But, like the magicians, nobody notices how +hard I have worked to have it happen." + +She departed. And within a week she filled Caryl's with descriptions of +Jeanne-Armande, the velvet bodice, the beet-root skirt, the blue room, +the white cats, and the dinner, together with the solitary pupil, whose +knowledge of _botany_ was something unparalleled in the history of the +science. Caryl's was amused with the descriptions, and cared nothing for +the reality. But when Miss Vanhorn heard the tale, it was the reality +that menaced her. No one knew as yet the name of the solitary pupil, nor +the relationship to herself; but of course Mrs. Lorrington was merely +biding her time. What was her purpose? In her heart she pondered over +this new knowledge of botany, expressly paraded by Helen; her own eyes +and hands were not as sure and deft as formerly. Sometimes now when she +stooped to gather a flower, it was only a leaf with the sun shining on +it, or a growth of fungus, yellowly white. "Of course it is all a plan +of old Moreau's," she said to herself. "Anne would never have thought of +studying botany to gain my favor; she hasn't wit enough. It is old +Moreau and the Lorrington together. Let us see what will be their next +step." + +But Helen merely decorated her stories, and told nothing new. One day +some one asked: "But who is this girl? All this while you have not told +us; nor the place where this remarkable half-house is." + +"I am not at liberty to tell," replied Helen's clear even voice. "That +is not permitted--at present." + +Miss Vanhorn fidgeted in her corner, and put up her glass to catch any +wandering expressions that might be turning in her direction; but there +were none. "She is giving me a chance of having Anne here peaceably," +she thought. "If, after a reasonable time, I do not accept it, she will +declare war, and the house will ring with my hard-heartedness. +Fortunately I do not care for hard-heartedness." + +She went off on her solitary drive; mistook two flowers; stumbled and +hurt her ankle; lost her magnifying-glass. On her way home she sat and +meditated. It would be comfortable to have young eyes and hands to +assist her. Also, if Anne was really there in person, then, when all the +duets were sung, and the novelty (as well as difficulty) over, Mrs. +Lorrington would be the first to weary of her protégée, and would let +her fall like a faded leaf. And that would be the end of that. Here a +sudden and new idea came to her: might not this very life at Caryl's +break up, of itself, the engagement which was so obnoxious? If she +should bring Anne here and introduce her as her niece, might not her +very ignorance of the world and crude simplicity attract the attention +of some of the loungers at Caryl's, who, if they exerted themselves, +would have little difficulty in effacing the memory of that boy on the +island? They would not, of course, be in earnest, but the result would +be accomplished all the same. Anne was impressionable, and truthfulness +itself. Yes, it could be done. + +Accompanied by her elderly maid, she went back to New York; and then out +to the half-house. + +"I have changed my mind," she announced, abruptly, taking her seat upon +Jeanne-Armande's hard sofa. "You are to come with me. This is the blue +room, I suppose; and there are the four cats. Where is the bodiced +woman? Send her to me; and go pack your clothes immediately." + +"Am I to go to Caryl's--where Helen is?" said Anne, in excited surprise. + +"Yes; you will see your Helen. You understand, I presume, that she is at +the bottom of all this." + +"But--do you like Helen, grandaunt?" + +"I am extremely fond of her," replied Miss Vanhorn, dryly. "Run and make +ready; and send the bodiced woman to me. I give you half an hour; no +longer." + +Jeanne-Armande came in with her gliding step. In her youth a lady's +footfall was never heard. She wore long narrow cloth gaiters without +heels, met at the ankles by two modest ruffles, whose edges were visible +when the wind blew. The exposure of even a hair's-breadth rim of ankle +would have seemed to her an unpardonable impropriety. However, there was +no danger; the ruffles swept the ground. + +The Frenchwoman was grieved to part with her pupil; she had conceived a +real affection for her in the busy spot which served her as a heart. She +said good-by in the privacy of the kitchen, that Miss Vanhorn might not +see the tears in her eyes; then she returned to the blue room and went +through a second farewell, with a dignity appropriate to the occasion. + +"Good-by," said Anne, coming back from the doorway to kiss her thin +cheek a second time. Then she whispered: "I may return to you after all, +mademoiselle. Do not forget me." + +"The dear child!" said Jeanne-Armande, waving her handkerchief as the +carriage drove away. And there was a lump in her yellow old throat which +did not disappear all day. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + "Those who honestly make their own way without the aid of fortunate + circumstances and by the force of their own intelligence. This + includes the great multitude of Americans." + + --GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS. + + "He is a good fellow, spoiled. Whether he can be unspoiled, is + doubtful. It might be accomplished by the Blessing we call Sorrow." + + +When the two travellers arrived at Caryl's, Helen was gone. Another +telegraphic dispatch had again summoned her to her frequently dying +grandfather. + +"You are disappointed," said Miss Vanhorn. + +"Yes, grandaunt." + +"You will have all the more time to devote to me," said the old woman, +with her dry little laugh. + +Caryl's was a summer resort of an especial kind. Persons who dislike +crowds, persons who seek novelty, and, above all, persons who spend +their lives in carefully avoiding every thing and place which can even +remotely be called popular, combine to make such nooks, and give them a +brief fame--a fame which by its very nature must die as suddenly as it +is born. Caryl's was originally a stage inn, or "tarvern," in the +dialect of the district. But the stage ran no longer, and as the railway +was several miles distant, the house had become as isolated as the old +road before its door, which went literally nowhere, the bridge which had +once spanned the river having fallen into ruin. Some young men belonging +to those New York families designated by Tante as "Neeker-bokers" +discovered Caryl's by chance, and established themselves there as a +place free from new people, with some shooting, and a few trout. The +next summer they brought their friends, and from this beginning had +swiftly grown the present state of things, namely, two hundred persons +occupying the old building and hastily erected cottages, in rooms which +their city servants would have refused with scorn. + +The crowd of summer travellers could not find Caryl's; Caryl's was not +advertised. It was not on the road to anywhere. It was a mysterious +spot. The vogue of such places changes as fantastically as it is +created; the people who make it take flight suddenly, and never return. +If it exist at all, it falls into the hands of another class; and there +is a great deal of wondering (deservedly) over what was ever found +attractive in it. The nobler ocean beaches, grand mountains, and +bounteous springs will always be, must always be, popular; it is +Nature's ironical method, perhaps, of forcing the would-be exclusives to +content themselves with her second best, after all. + +Caryl's, now at the height of its transient fame, was merely a quiet +nook in the green country, with no more attractions than a hundred +others; but the old piazza was paced by the little high-heeled shoes of +fashionable women, the uneven floors swept by their trailing skirts. +French maids and little bare-legged children sported in the +old-fashioned garden, and young men made up their shooting parties in +the bare office, and danced in the evening--yes, really danced, not +leaving it superciliously to the boys--in the rackety bowling-alley, +which, refloored, did duty as a ball-room. There was a certain woody, +uncloying flavor about Caryl's (so it was asserted), which could not +exist amid the gilding of Saratoga. All this Miss Vanhorn related to her +niece on the day of their arrival. "I do not expect you to understand +it," she said; "but pray make no comment; ask no question. Accept +everything, and then you will pass." + +Aunt and niece had spent a few days in New York, _en route_. The old +lady was eccentric about her own attire; she knew that she could afford +to be eccentric. But for her niece she purchased a sufficient although +simple supply of summer costumes, so that the young girl made her +appearance among the others without attracting especial attention. +Helen was not there; no one identified Miss Douglas as the _rara avis_ +of her fantastic narrations. And there was no surface sparkle about +Anne, none of the usual girlish wish to attract attention, which makes +the eyes brighten, the color rise, and the breath quicken when entering +a new circle. + +That old woman of the world, Katharine Vanhorn, took no step to attract +notice to her niece. She knew that Anne's beauty was of the kind that +could afford to wait; people would discover it for themselves. Anne +remained, therefore, quietly by her side through several days, while +she, not unwilling at heart to have so fresh a listener, talked on and +instructed her. Miss Vanhorn was not naturally brilliant, but she was +one of those society women who, in the course of years of fashionable +life, have selected and retained for their own use excellent bits of +phrasing not original with themselves, idiomatic epithets, a way of +neatly describing a person in a word or two as though you had ticketed +him, until the listener really takes for brilliancy what is no more than +a thread-and-needle shop of other people's wares. + +"Any man," she said, as they sat in the transformed bowling-alley--"any +man, no matter how insignificant and unattractive, can be made to +believe that any woman, no matter how beautiful or brilliant, is in love +with him, at the expense of two looks and one sigh." + +"But who cares to make him believe?" said Anne, with the unaffected, +cheerful indifference which belonged to her, and which had already +quieted Miss Vanhorn's fears as to any awkward self-consciousness. + +"Most women." + +"Why?" + +"To swell their trains," replied the old woman. "Isabel Varce, over +there in blue, and Rachel Bannert, the one in black, care for nothing +else." + +"Mrs. Bannert is very ugly," said Anne, with the calm certainty of +girlhood. + +"Oh, is she?" said Miss Vanhorn, laughing shortly. "You will change your +mind, my Phyllis; you will learn that a dark skin and half-open eyes are +superb." + +"If _Helen_ was here, people would see real beauty," answered Anne, with +some scorn. + +"They are a contrast, I admit; opposite types. But we must not be +narrow, Phyllis; you will find that people continue to look at Mrs. +Bannert, no matter who is by. Here is some one who seems to know you." + +"Mr. Dexter," said Anne, as the tall form drew near. "He is a friend of +Helen's." + +"Helen has a great many friends. However, I happen to have heard of this +Mr. Dexter. You may present him to me--I hope you know how." + +All Madame Moreau's pupils knew how. Anne performed her task properly, +and Dexter, bringing forward one of the old broken-backed chairs (which +formed part of the "woody and uncloying flavor" of Caryl's), sat down +beside them. + +"I am surprised that you remembered me, Mr. Dexter," said the girl. "You +saw me but once, and on New-Year's Day too, among so many." + +"But you remembered me, Miss Douglas." + +"That is different. You were kind to me--about the singing. It is +natural that I should remember." + +"And why not as natural that I should remember the singing?" + +"Because it was not good enough to have made any especial impression," +replied Anne, looking at him calmly with her clear violet eyes. + +"It was at least new--I mean the simplicity of the little ballad," said +Dexter, ceasing to compliment, and speaking only the truth. + +"Simplicity!" said Miss Vanhorn: "I am tired of it. I hope, Anne, you +will not sing any simplicity songs here; those ridiculous things about +bringing an ivy leaf, only an ivy leaf, and that it was but a little +faded flower. They show an extremely miserly spirit, I think. If you can +not give your friends a whole blossom or a fresh one, you had better not +give them any at all." + +"Who was it who said that he was sated with poetry about flowers, and +that if the Muses must come in everywhere, he wished they would not +always come as green-grocers?" said Dexter, who knew perfectly the home +of this as of every other quotation, but always placed it in that way to +give people an opportunity of saying, "Charles Lamb, wasn't it?" or +"Sheridan?" It made conversation flowing. + +"The flowers do not need the Muses," said Miss Vanhorn--"slatternly +creatures, with no fit to their gowns. And that reminds me of what Anne +was saying as you came up, Mr. Dexter; she was calmly and decisively +observing that Mrs. Bannert was very ugly." + +A smile crossed Dexter's face in answer to the old woman's short dry +laugh. + +"I added that if Mrs. Lorrington was here, people would see real +beauty," said Anne, distressed by this betrayal, but standing by her +guns. + +Miss Vanhorn laughed again. "Mr. Dexter particularly admires Mrs. +Bannert, child," she said, cheerfully, having had the unexpected +amusement of two good laughs in an evening. + +But Anne, instead of showing embarrassment, turned her eyes toward +Dexter, as if in honest inquiry. + +"Mrs. Bannert represents the Oriental type of beauty," he answered, +smiling, as he perceived her frank want of agreement. + +"Say creole," said Miss Vanhorn. "It is a novelty, child, which has made +its appearance lately; a reaction after the narrow-chested type which +has so long in America held undisputed sway. We absolutely take a +quadroon to get away from the consumptive, blue-eyed saint, of whom we +are all desperately tired." + +"New York city is now developing a type of its own, I think," said +Dexter. "You can tell a New York girl at a glance when you meet her in +the West or the South. Women walk more in the city than they do +elsewhere, and that has given them a firm step and bearing, which are +noticeable." + +"To think of comparisons between different parts of this raw land of +ours, as though they had especial characteristics of their own!" said +Miss Vanhorn, looking for a seed. + +"You have not traveled much in this country, I presume," said Dexter. + +"No, man, no. When I travel, I go abroad." + +"I have never been abroad," answered Dexter, quietly. "But I can see a +difference between the people of Massachusetts and the people of South +Carolina, the people of Philadelphia and the people of San Francisco, +which is marked and of the soil. I even think that I can tell a +Baltimore, Buffalo, Chicago, Louisville, or St. Louis family at sight." + +"You go to all those places?" said Miss Vanhorn, half closing her eyes, +and speaking in a languid voice, as if the subject was too remote for +close attention. + +"Yes. You are not aware that I am a business man." + +"Ah? What is it you do?" said the old woman, who knew perfectly Dexter's +entire history, but wanted to hear his own account of himself. + +"I am interested in iron; that is, I have iron mills, and--other +things." + +"Exactly; as you say--other things. Does that mean politics?" + +"Partly," said Dexter, smiling. + +"And oil?" + +"No. I have never had any opportunity to coin gold with the Aladdin's +lamp found in Pennsylvania. There is no magic in any of my occupations; +they are all regular and commonplace." + +"Are you in Congress now?" + +"No; I was only there one term." + +"A bore, isn't it?" + +"Not to me." + +"Congress is always a riot," said Miss Vanhorn, still with her eyes +closed. + +"I can not agree with you," said Dexter, his face taking on one of its +resolute expressions. "I have small patience with those Americans who +affect to be above any interest in the government of the country in +which they live. It _is_ their country, and they can no more alter that +fact than they can change their plain grandfathers into foreign +noblemen." + +"Dear me! dear me!" said Miss Vanborn, carelessly. "You talk to me as if +I were a mass-meeting." + +"I beg your pardon," said Dexter, his former manner returning. "I forgot +for the moment that no one is in earnest at Caryl's." + +"By-the-way, how did _you_ ever get in here?" said Miss Vanhorn, with +frank impertinence. + +"I came because I like to see all sides of society," he replied, smiling +down upon her with amused eyes. + +"Give me your arm. You amount to something," said the old woman, rising. +"We will walk up and down for a few moments; and, Anne, you can come +too." + +"I am almost sure that he is Helen's Knight-errant," thought Anne. "And +I like him _very_ much." + +A niece of Miss Vanhorn's could not of course be slighted. The next day +Isabel Varce came up and talked a while; later, Mrs. Bannert and the +others followed. Gregory Dexter was with aunt and niece frequently; and +Miss Vanhorn was pleased to be very gracious. She talked to him herself +most of the time, while Anne watched the current of the new life round +her. Other men had been presented to her; and among them she thought she +recognized the Chanting Tenor and the Poet of Helen's narratives. She +could not write to Helen; the eccentric grandfather objected to letters. +"Fools and women clog the mails," was one of his favorite assertions. +But although Anne could not write, Helen could smuggle letters +occasionally into the outgoing mail-bags, and when she learned that Anne +was at Caryl's, she wrote immediately. "Have you seen Isabel Varce yet?" +ran the letter. "And Rachel Bannert? The former is my dearest rival, the +latter my deadliest friend. Use your eyes, I beg. What amusement I shall +have hearing your descriptions when I come! For of course you will make +the blindest mistakes. However, a blind man has been known to see +sometimes what other people have never discovered. How is the Grand +Llama? I conquered her at last, as I told you I should. With a high +pressure of magnanimity. But it was all for my own sake; and now, +behold, I am here! But you can study the Bishop, the Poet, the Tenor, +and the Knight-errant in the flesh; how do you like the Knight?" + +"This place is a prison," wrote Helen, again; "and I am in the mean time +consumed with curiosity to know _what_ is going on at Caryl's. Please +answer my letters, and put the answers away until I come; it is the only +method I can think of by which I can get the aroma of each day. Or, +rather, not the aroma, but the facts; you do not know much of aromas. If +facts were 'a divine thing' to Frederick the Great (Mr. Dexter told me +that, of course), they are certainly extremely solemn to you. Tell me, +then, what everybody is doing. And particularly the Bishop and the +Knight-errant." + +And Anne answered the letters faithfully, telling everything she +noticed, especially as to Dexter. Who the Bishop was she had not been +able to decide. + +In addition to the others, Ward Heathcote had now arrived at Caryl's, +also Mr. Blum. + +In the mean time Miss Vanhorn had tested without delay her niece's new +knowledge of botany. Her face was flushed and her hand fairly trembled +with eagerness as she gave Anne her first wild flower, and ordered her +to analyze it. Would she blunder, or show herself dull and incompetent? +One thing was certain: no pretended zeal could deceive old +Katharine--she knew the reality too well. + +But there was no pretense. Anne, honest as usual, analyzed the flower +with some mistakes, but with real interest; and the keen black eyes +recognized the genuine hue of the feeling, as far as it went. After that +initiation, every morning they drove to the woods, and Anne searched in +all directions, coming back loaded down with spoil. Every afternoon +there followed analyzing, pressing, drying, and labelling, for hours. + +"Pray leave the foundations of our bridge intact," called Isabel Varce, +passing on horseback, accompanied by Ward Heathcote, and looking down at +Anne digging up something on the bank below, while at a little distance +Miss Vanhorn's coupé was waiting, with the old lady's hard face looking +out through the closed window. + +Anne laughed, and turned her face, glowing with rose-color, upward to +look at them. + +"Do you like that sort of thing?" said Isabel, pausing, having noted at +a glance that the young girl was attired in old clothes, and appeared in +every way at a disadvantage. She had no especial malice toward Anne in +this; she merely acted on general principles as applied to all of her +own sex. But even the most acute feminine minds make mistakes on one +subject, namely, they forget that to a man dress is not the woman. Anne, +in her faded gown, down on the muddy bank, with her hat off, her boots +begrimed, and her zeal for the root she was digging up, seemed to Ward +Heathcote a new and striking creature. The wind ruffled her thick brown +hair and blew it into little rings and curls about her face, her eyes, +unflinching in the brilliant sunshine, laughed back at them as they +looked over the railing; the lines of her shoulder and extended arms +were of noble beauty. To a woman's eyes a perfect sleeve is of the +highest importance; it did not occur to Isabel that through the ugly, +baggy, out-of-date sleeve down there on the bank, the wind, sturdily +blowing, was revealing an arm whose outline silk and lace could never +rival. Satisfied with her manoeuvre, she rode on: Anne certainly looked +what all women would have called "a fright." + +Yet that very evening Heathcote approached, recalled himself to Miss +Vanhorn's short memory, and, after a few moments of conversation, sat +down beside Anne, who received him with the same frank predisposition to +be pleased which she gave to all alike. Heathcote was not a talker like +Dexter; he seemed to have little to say at any time. He was one of a +small and unimportant class in the United States, which would be very +offensive to citizens at large if it came in contact with them; but it +seldom does. To this class there is no city in America save New York, +and New York itself is only partially endurable. National reputations +are nothing, politics nothing. Money is necessary, and ought to be +provided in some way; and generally it is, since without it this class +could not exist in a purely democratic land. But it is inherited, not +made. It may be said that simply the large landed estates acquired at an +early date in the vicinity of the city, and immensely increased in value +by the growth of the metropolis, have produced this class, which, +however, having no barriers, can never be permanent, or make to itself +laws. Heathcote's great-grandfather was a landed proprietor in +Westchester County; he had lived well, and died at a good old age, to be +succeeded by his son, who also lived well, and died not so well, and +poorer than his father. The grandson increased the ratio in both cases, +leaving to his little boy, Ward, but a small portion of the original +fortune, and departing from the custom of the house in that he died +early. The boy, without father, mother, brother, or sister, grew up +under the care of guardians, and, upon coming of age, took possession of +the remnant left to him. A good portion of this he himself had lost, not +so much from extravagance, however, as carelessness. He had been abroad, +of course, and had adopted English ways, but not with any violence. He +left that to others. He passed for good-natured in the main; he was not +restless. He was quite willing that other men should have more luxuries +than he had--a yacht, for instance, or fine horses; he felt no +irritation on the subject. On the other hand, he would have been much +surprised to learn that any one longed to take him out and knock him +down, simply as an insufferable object. Yet Gregory Dexter had that +longing at times so strongly that his hand fairly quivered. + +Heathcote was slightly above middle height, and well built, but his gait +was indolent and careless. Good features unlighted by animation, a brown +skin, brown eyes ordinarily rather lethargic, thick brown hair and +mustache, and heavy eyebrows standing out prominently from the face in +profile view, were the items ordinarily given in a general description. +He had a low-toned voice and slow manner, in which, however, there was +no affectation. What was the use of doing anything with any particular +effort? He had no antipathy for persons of other habits; the world was +large. It was noticed, however (or rather it was _not_ noticed), that he +generally got away from them as soon as he quietly could. He had lived +to be thirty-two years old, and had on the whole enjoyed life so far, +although he was neither especially important, handsome, nor rich. The +secret of this lay in one fact: women liked him. + +What was it that they found to like in him? This was the question asked +often in irritation by his brother man. And naturally. For the women +themselves could not give a reasonable reason. The corresponding side of +life is not the same, since men admire with a reason; the woman is +plainly beautiful, or brilliant, or fascinating round whom they gather. +At Caryl's seven or eight men were handsomer than Heathcote; a number +were more brilliant; many were richer. Yet almost all of these had +discovered, at one time or another, that the eyes they were talking to +were following Heathcote furtively; and they had seen attempts that made +them tingle with anger--all the more so because they were so +infinitesimally delicate and fine, as became the actions of well-bred +women. One or two, who had married, had had explained to them +elaborately by their wives what it was they (in their free days, of +course) had liked in Heathcote--elaborately, if not clearly. The +husbands gathered generally that it was only a way he had, a manner; the +liking was half imaginative, after all. Now Heathcote was not in the +least imaginative. But the women were. + +Manly qualities, good hearts, handsome faces, and greater wealth held +their own in fact against him. Marriages took place in his circle, +wedding chimes pealed, and brides were happy under their veils in spite +of him. Yet, as histories of lives go, there was a decided balance in +his favor of feminine regard, and no one could deny it. + +He had now but a small income, and had been obliged to come down to a +very simple manner of life. Those who disliked him said that of course +he would marry money. As yet, however, he had shown no signs of +fulfilling his destiny in this respect. He seldom took the trouble to +express his opinions, and therefore passed as having none; but those who +were clear-sighted knew better. Dexter was one of these, and this +entire absence of self-assertion in Ward Heathcote stung him. For Dexter +always asserted himself; he could not help it. He came in at this +moment, and noted Heathcote's position near Anne. Obeying an impulse, he +crossed the room immediately, and began a counter-conversation with Miss +Vanhorn, the chaperon. + +"Trying to interest that child," he thought, as he listened to the +grandaunt with the air of deferential attention she liked so well. With +eyes that apparently never once glanced in their direction, he kept +close watch of the two beyond. "She is no match for him," he thought, +with indignation; "she has had no experience. It ought not to be +allowed." + +But Dexter always mistook Heathcote; he gave him credit for plans and +theories of which Heathcote never dreamed. In fact, he judged him by +himself. Heathcote was merely talking to Anne now in the absence of +other entertainment, having felt some slight curiosity about her because +she had looked so bright and contented on the mud-bank under the bridge. +He tried to recall his impression of her on New-Year's Day, and +determined to refresh his memory by Blum; but, in the mean time, +outwardly, his manner was as though, silently of course, but none the +less deeply, he had dwelt upon her image ever since. It was this +impalpable manner which made Dexter indignant. He knew it so well! He +said to himself that it was a lie. And, generally speaking, it was. But +possibly in this case (as in others) it was not so much the falsity of +the manner as its success which annoyed the other man. + +He could not hear what was said; and the words, in truth, were not many +or brilliant. But he knew the sort of quiet glance with which they were +being accompanied. Yet Dexter, quick and suspicious as he was, would +never have discovered that glance unaided. He had learned it from +another, and that other, of course, a woman. For once in a while it +happens that a woman, when roused to fury, will pour out the whole story +of her wrongs to some man who happens to be near. No man does this. He +has not the same need of expression; and, besides, he will never show +himself at such a disadvantage voluntarily, even for the sake of +comfort. He would rather remain uncomforted. But women of strong +feelings often, when excited, cast wisdom to the winds, and even seem to +find a desperate satisfaction in the most hazardous imprudences, which +can injure only themselves. In a mood of this kind, some one had poured +out to Gregory Dexter bitter testimony against Heathcote, one-sided, +perhaps, but photographically accurate in all the details, which are so +much to women. Dexter had listened with inward anger and contempt; but +he had listened. And he had recognized, besides, the accent of truth in +every word. The narrator was now in Austria with a new and foreign +husband, apparently as happy as the day is long. But the listener had +never forgotten or forgiven her account of Heathcote's method and +manner. He said to himself that he despised it, and he did despise it. +Still, in some occult way, one may be jealous of results attained even +by ways and means for which one feels a righteous contempt; and the more +so when one has a firm confidence in his own abilities, which have not +yet, however, been openly recognized in that field. In all other fields +Gregory Dexter was a marked type of American success. + +As the days moved slowly on, he kept watch of Heathcote. It was more a +determination to foil him than interest in Anne which made him add +himself as a third whenever he could unobtrusively; which was not often, +since Miss Vanhorn liked to talk to him herself, and Anne knew no more +how to aid him than a nun. After a while Heathcote became conscious of +this watchfulness, and it amused him. His idea of Dexter was "a clever +sort of fellow, who has made money, and is ambitious. Goes in for +politics, and that sort of thing. Talks well, but too much. Tiresome." +He began to devote himself to Anne now in a different way; hitherto he +had been only entertaining himself (and rather languidly) by a study of +her fresh naïve truthfulness. He had drawn out her history; he, too, +knew of the island, the fort, and the dog trains. Poor Anne was always +eloquent on these subjects. Her color rose, her words came quickly. + +"You are fond of the island," he said, one evening, as they sat on the +piazza in the moonlight, Dexter within three feet of them, but unable to +hear their murmured words. For Heathcote had a way of interposing his +shoulder between listeners and the person to whom he was talking, which +made the breadth of woollen cloth as much a barrier as a stone wall; he +did this more frequently now that he had discovered Dexter's +watchfulness. + +"Yes," said Anne, in as low a voice as his own. Then suddenly, plainly +visible to him in the moonlight, tears welled up and dropped upon her +cheeks. + +She had been homesick all day. Sometimes Miss Vanhorn was hard and cold +as a bronze statue in winter; sometimes she was as quick and fiery as if +charged with electricity. Sometimes she veered between the two. To-day +had been one of the veering days, and Anne had worked over the dried +plants five hours in a close room, now a mark for sarcastic darts of +ridicule, now enduring an icy silence, until her lot seemed too heavy to +bear. She had learned to understand the old woman's moods, but +understanding pain does not make it lighter. Released at last, a great +wave of homesickness had swept over her, which did not, however, break +bounds until Heathcote's words touched the spring; then the gates opened +and the tears came. + +They had no sooner dropped upon her cheeks, one, two, three, than she +was overwhelmed with hot shame at having allowed them to fall, and with +fear lest any one should notice them. Mr. Heathcote had seen them, that +was hopelessly certain; but if only she could keep them from her +grandaunt! Yet she did not dare to lift her handkerchief lest its white +should attract attention. + +But Heathcote knew what to do. + +As soon as he saw the tears (to him, of course, totally unexpected; but +girls are so), he raised his straw hat, which lay on his knee, and, +holding it by the crown, began elaborately to explain some peculiarity +in the lining (he called it South American) invented for the occasion, +at the same time, by the motion, screening her face completely from +observation on the other side. But Anne could not check herself; the +very shelter brought thicker drops. He could not hold his hat in that +position forever, even to look at Brazilian linings. He rose suddenly, +and standing in front so as to screen her, he cried, "A bat! a bat!" at +the same time making a pass with his hat as though he saw it in the air. + +Every one on the piazza rose, darted aside hither and thither, the +ladies covering their heads with their fans and handkerchiefs, the men +making passes with their hats, as usual on bat occasions; every one was +sure the noxious creature flew by. For a number of minutes confusion +reigned. When it was over, Anne's cheeks were dry, and a little cobweb +tie had been formed between herself and Heathcote. It was too slight to +be noticed, but it was there. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + "Le hasard sait ce qu'il fait!"--_French Proverb._ + + +The next day there was a picnic. No one wished to go especially save +Isabel Varce, but no one opposed her wish. At Caryl's they generally +followed whatever was suggested, with indolent acquiescence. Miss +Vanhorn, however, being a contrary planet revolving in an orbit of her +own, at first declined to go; there were important plants to finish. But +Mr. Dexter persuaded her to change her mind, and, with Anne, to +accompany him in a certain light carriage which he had ordered from the +next town, more comfortable than the Caryl red wagons, and not so heavy +as her own coupé. Miss Vanhorn liked to be comfortable, and she was +playing the part also of liking Gregory Dexter; she therefore accepted. +She knew perfectly well that Dexter's "light carriage" had not come from +the next town, but from New York; and she smiled at what she considered +the effort of this new man to conceal his lavishness. But she was quite +willing that he should spend his money to gain her favor (she having +already decided to give it to him), and therefore it was with +contentment that she stepped into the carriage--a model of its kind--on +the morning of the appointed day, and put up her glass to watch the +others ascending, by a little flight of steps, to the high table-land of +the red wagons. Mr. Heathcote was on horseback; he dismounted, however, +to assist Mrs. Bannert to her place. He raised his hat to Anne with his +usual quiet manner, but she returned his salutation with a bright smile. +She was grateful to him. Had he not been kind to her? + +The picnic was like most picnics of the sort--heavy work for the +servants, languid amusement, not unmixed with only partially concealed +ennui, on the part of the guests. There was but little wandering away, +the participants being too few for much severance. They strolled through +the woods in long-drawn links; they went to see a view from a knoll; +they sang a few songs gently, faint pipings from the ladies, and nothing +from the men (Blum being absent) save the correct bass of Dexter, which +seemed very far down indeed in the cellars of melody, while the ladies +were on the high battlements. The conversation was never exactly allowed +to die out, yet it languished. Almost all would rather have been at +home. The men especially found small pleasure in sitting on the ground; +besides, a distinct consciousness that the attitude was not becoming. +For the American does not possess a taste for throwing himself heartily +down upon Mother Earth. He can camp; he can hunt, swim, ride, walk, use +Indian clubs, play base-ball, drive, row, sail a yacht, or even guide a +balloon; but when it comes to grass, give him a bench. + +Isabel Varce, in a wonderful costume of woodland green, her somewhat +sharp features shaded by a shepherdess hat, carried out her purpose--the +subjugation of a certain Peter Dane, a widower of distinction, a late +arrival at Caryl's. Mrs. Bannert had Ward Heathcote by her side, +apparently to the satisfaction of both. Other men and women were +contented or discontented as it happened; and two or three school-girls +of twelve or thirteen really enjoyed themselves, being at the happy age +when blue sky and golden sunshine, green woods and lunch on the grass, +are all that is necessary for supreme happiness. + +There was one comic element present, and by mistake. A reverend +gentleman of the kind that calls everybody "brother" had arrived +unexpectedly at Caryl's; he was journeying for the purpose of +distributing certain thin pamphlets of powerfully persuasive influence +as to general virtue, and as he had not been over that ground for some +years, he had no suspicion that Caryl's had changed, or that it was any +more important than Barr's, Murphy's, Allen's, and other hamlets in the +neighborhood and possessive case, with whose attributes he was familiar. +Old John Caryl had taken him in for a night or two, and had ordered the +unused school-house at the cross-roads to be swept out for a hamlet +evening service; but the hamlet could not confine the Reverend Ezra +Sloane. His heart waxed warm within him at the sight of so many persons, +all well-to-do, pleasant to the eye, and apparently not pressed for +time. He had spent his life in ministering to the poor in this world's +goods, and to the workers who had no leisure; it was a new pleasure to +him simply to be among the agreeable, well-dressed, and unanxious. He +took his best coat from his lean valise, and wore it steadily. He was so +happy in his child-like satisfaction that no one rebuffed him, and when +he presented himself, blandly smiling, to join the picnic party, no one +had the heart to tell him of his mistake. As he climbed complacently +into one of the wagons, however, stiff old Mrs. Bannert, on the back +seat, gave John Caryl, standing at the horses' heads, a look which he +understood. The Reverend Ezra must depart the next morning, or be +merged--conclusively merged--in the hamlet. His fate was sealed. But +to-day he disported himself to his heart's content; his smiling face was +everywhere. He went eagerly through the woods, joining now one group, +now another; he laughed when they laughed, understanding, however, but +few of their allusions. He was restlessly anxious to join in the +singing, but could not, as he did not know their songs, and he proposed, +in entire good faith, one or two psalms, giving them up, however, +immediately, when old Mrs. Bannert, who had taken upon herself the task +of keeping him down, remarked sternly that no one knew the tunes. He +went to see the view, and extending his hand, said, in his best manner, +"Behold! brethren, is there not hill, and dale, and mountain, and +valley, and--river?" As he said "river" he closed his eyes impressively, +and stood there among them the image of self-complacence. The wind blew +out his black coat, and showed how thin it was, and the wearer as well. + +[Illustration: "HE TOOK HIS BEST COAT FROM HIS LEAN VALISE."] + +"Why is it always a thin, weakly man like that who insists upon calling +people 'brethren'?" said Heathcote, as they stood a little apart. + +"Because, being weakly, we can not knock him down for it, as we +certainly should do if he was stronger," said Dexter. + +But it was especially at lunch that the Reverend Ezra shone forth; +rising to the occasion, he brought forth all the gallant speeches of his +youth, which had much the air of his grandfather's Green Mountain +musket. Some of his phrases Anne recognized: Miss Lois used them. The +young girl was pained to see how out of place he was, how absurd in his +well-intentioned efforts; and she therefore drew him a little apart, and +strove to entertain him herself. She had known plain people on the +island, and had experienced much of their faithful goodness and +generosity in times of trouble; it hurt her to have him ridiculed. It +came out, during this conversation, that he knew something of botany, +and on the strength of this passport she took him to Miss Vanhorn. The +Reverend Ezra really did understand the flora of the district, through +which he had journeyed many times in former years on his old mare; Miss +Vanhorn's sharp questions brought out what he knew, and gave him also +the grateful sensation of imparting valuable information. He now +appeared quite collected and sensible. He mentioned, after a while, that +an orchid grew in these very woods at some distance up the mountain--an +orchid which was rare. Miss Vanhorn had never seen that particular +orchid in its wild state; a flush rose in her cheek. + +"We can drive out to-morrow and look for it, grandaunt," said Anne. + +"No," replied Miss Vanhorn, firmly; "that orchid must be found to-day, +while Mr.--Mr.--" + +"Sloane," said the minister, affably. + +"--while Mr. Stone is with you to point out the exact locality. I desire +you to go with him immediately, Anne; _this_ is a matter of importance." + +"It is about two miles up the mountain," objected the missionary, loath +to leave the festival. + +"Anne is not afraid of two short miles," replied the old woman, +inflexibly. "And as for yourself, Mr. Doane, no doubt you will be glad +to abandon this scene of idle frivolity." And then the Reverend Ezra, a +little startled by this view of the case, yielded, and sought his hat +and cane. + +This conversation had taken place at one side. Mr. Dexter, however, +talking ceremoniously with old Mrs. Bannert, overheard it, and +immediately thought of a plan by which it might be made available for +his own purposes. The picnic had not given him much satisfaction so far; +it had been too languid. With all his effort, he could not quite enter +into the continuous indolence of Caryl's. True, he had taken Anne from +Heathcote, thus checking for the moment that gentleman's lazy supremacy, +at least in one quarter; but there were other quarters, and Heathcote +was now occupying the one which Dexter himself coveted most of all, +namely, the seat next to Rachel Bannert. Rachel was a widow, and +uncomfortably dependent upon her mother-in-law. The elder Mrs. Bannert +was sharp-eyed as a hawk, wise as a serpent, and obstinate as a +hedge-hog; Rachel as soft-voiced and soft-breasted as a dove; yet the +latter intended to have, and did in the end have, the Bannert estate, +and in the mean time she "shared her mother-in-law's home." There were +varying opinions as to the delights of that home. + +Dexter, fretted by Heathcote's unbroken conversation with Rachel, and +weary of the long inaction of the morning, now proposed that they should +all go in search of the orchid; his idea was that at least it would +break up existing proximities, and give them all something to do. Lunch +had been prolonged to the utmost extent of its vitality, and the +participants were in the state of nerveless leaves in Indian summer, +ready to float away on the first breeze. They strolled off, therefore, +all save the elder ladies, through the wood, led by the delighted Ezra, +who had that "God-bless-you-all-my-friends" air with which many worthy +people are afflicted. The apparent self-effacement effected by +good-breeding, even in the wicked, is certainly more agreeable to an +ordinary world than the unconscious egotism of a large class of the +good. + +After a quarter of an hour the woodman's trail they were following +turned and went up the mountain-side. No one save Anne and the +missionary had the slightest intention of walking two miles to look for +a flower, but they were willing to stroll on for a while. They came to +the main road, and crossed it, making many objections to its being +there, with its commonplace daylight, after the shade, flickering +sunbeams, and vague green vistas of the forest. But on this road, in the +dust, a travelling harp-player was trudging along, accompanied by a +wizened little boy and a still more wizened monkey. + +"Let us carry them off into the deepest woods, and have a dance," said +Isabel. "We will be nymphs and dryades, and all sorts of woodland +things." + +It is difficult to dance on uneven ground, in the middle of the day, to +the sound of an untuned old harp, and a violin held upside down, and +scraped by a melancholy boy. But Isabel had her way, or rather took it, +and they all set off somewhat vaguely for "the deepest woods," leaving +the woodman's path, and following another track, which Isabel pronounced +"such a dear little trail it must lead somewhere." The Reverend Ezra was +disturbed. He thought he held them all under his own guidance, when, lo! +they were not only leaving him and his orchid without a word of excuse, +but were actually departing with a wandering harpist to find a level +spot on which to dance! + +"I--I think that path leads only to an old quarry," he said, with a +hesitating smile. + +But no one paid any attention to him, save Anne, who had paused also, +uncertain what to do. + +"We will get the orchid afterward, Miss Douglas," said Dexter. "I +promise that you shall have it." + +"But Mr. Sloane," said Anne, glancing toward the deserted missionary. + +"Come with us, dominie," said Dexter, with the ready good-nature that +was one of his outward characteristics. It was a quick, tolerant +good-nature, and seemed to belong to his broad, strong frame. + +But the dominie had a dignity of his own, after all. When he realized +that he was forsaken, he came forward and said quietly that he would go +up the mountain alone and get the orchid, joining them at the main-road +crossing on the way back. + +"As you please," said Dexter. "And I, for one, shall feel much indebted +to you, sir, if you bring back the flower, because I have promised Miss +Douglas that she should have it, and should be obliged to go for it +myself, ignorant as I am, were it not for your kindness." + +He raised his hat courteously, and went off with Anne to join the +others, already out of sight. + +"I suppose he does not approve of the dancing," said the girl, looking +back. + +But Dexter did not care whether he approved or disapproved; he had +already dismissed the dominie from his mind. + +The path took them to a deserted stone-quarry in the side of the hill. +There was the usual yawning pit, floored with broken jagged masses, and +chips of stone, the straight bare wall of rock above, and the forest +greenery coming to the edge of the desolation on all sides, and leaning +over to peep down. The quarrymen had camped below, and the little open +space where once their lodge of boughs had stood was selected by Isabel +for the dancing floor. The harpist, a small old man clad in a grimy +velveteen coat, played a waltz, to which the little Italian boy added a +lagging accompaniment; the monkey, who seemed to have belonged to some +defunct hand-organ, sat on a stump and surveyed the scene. They did not +all dance, but Isabel succeeded in persuading a few to move through a +quadrille whose figures she improvised for the occasion. But the scene +was more picturesque when, after a time, the dull partners in coats were +discarded, and the floating draperies danced by themselves, joining +hands in a ring, and circling round and round with merry little motions +which were charmingly pretty, like kittens at play. Then they made the +boy sing, and he chanted a tune which had (musically) neither beginning +nor end, but a useful quality of going on forever. But whatever he did, +and whatever they gave him, made no difference in his settled +melancholy, which the monkey's small face seemed to caricature. Then +they danced again, and this time Dexter took part, while the other +coated ones remained on the grass, smoking. It ended in his waltzing +with them all in turn, and being overwhelmed with their praises, which, +however, being levelled at the heads of the others by strongly implied +comparison, were not as valuable as they seemed. Dexter knew that he +gained nothing by joining in that dance; but where there was something +to do, he could not resist doing it. When the waltz was over, and the +wandering musicians sent on their way with a lavish reward of silver, +which the monkey had received cynically as it was placed piece by piece +in his little paw, Isabel led off all the ladies "to explore the +quarry," expressly forbidding the others to follow. With an air of great +enjoyment in their freedom and solitude the floating draperies departed, +and the smokers were left under the trees, content, on their side also, +to have half an hour of quiet. Mr. Peter Dane immediately and heartily +yawned at full width, and was no longer particular as to the position of +his legs. In truth, it was the incipient fatigue on the face of this +distinguished widower which had induced Isabel to lead off her exploring +party; for when a man is over fifty, nothing is more dangerous than to +tire him. He never forgives it. + +Isabel led her band round to an ascent, steep but not long; her plan was +to go up the hill through the wood, and appear on the top of the quarry, +so many graceful figures high in the air against the blue sky, for the +indolent smokers below to envy and admire. Isabel was a slender creature +with a pale complexion; the slight color produced by the exercise would +be becoming. Rachel, who was dimpled, "never could climb"; her "ankles" +were "not strong." (And certainly they were very small ankles for such a +weight of dimples.) The party now divided itself under these two +leaders; those who were indolent staid with Rachel; those who were not +afraid of exercise went with Isabel. A few went for amusement, without +motive; among these was Anne. One went for wrath; and this was Valeria +Morle. + +It is hard for a neutral-faced girl with a fixed opinion of her own +importance to learn the lesson of her real insignificance, when removed +from the background of home, at a place like Caryl's. Valeria was there, +mistakenly visiting an aunt for two weeks, and with the calm security of +the country mind, she had mentally selected Ward Heathcote as her knight +for the time being, and had bestowed upon him in consequence several +little speeches and smiles carefully calculated to produce an +impression, to mean a great deal to any one who was watching. But +Heathcote was not watching; the small well-regulated country smiles had +about as much effect as the twitterings of a wren would have in a wood +full of nightingales. Miss Morle could not understand it; had they not +slain their thousands, nay, ten thousands (young lady's computation), in +Morleville? She now went up the hill in silent wrath, glad to do +something and to be away from Heathcote. Still, she could not help +believing that he would miss her; men had been known to be very much +interested in girls, and yet make no sign for a long time. They watched +them from a distance. In this case Valeria was to have her hopes +realized. She was to be watched, and from a distance. + +The eight who reached the summit sported gayly to and fro for a while, +now near the edge, now back, gathering flowers and throwing them over, +calling down to the smokers, who lay and watched them, without, however, +any burning desire especially visible on their countenances to climb up +and join them. Valeria, with a stubborn determination to make herself in +some way conspicuous, went to the edge of the cliff, and even leaned +over; she had one arm round a young tree, but half of her shoes (by no +means small ones) were over the verge, and the breeze showed that they +were. Anne saw it, and spoke to Isabel. + +"If she will do it, she will," answered Isabel; "and the more we notice +her, the more she will persist. She is one of those dull girls intended +by Nature to be always what is called sensible. And when one of _those_ +girls takes to making a fool of herself, her idiocy is colossal." + +But Isabel's philosophy did not relieve Anne's fear. She called to +Valeria, warningly, "You are very near the edge, Miss Morle; wouldn't it +be safer to step back a little?" + +But Valeria would not. They were all noticing her at last. They should +see how strong her nerves were, how firm her poise. The smokers below, +too, were now observing her. She threw back her head, and hummed a +little tune. If the edge did not crumble, she was, in truth, safe +enough. To a person who is not dizzy, five inches of foot-hold is as +safe as five yards. + +But--the edge did crumble. And suddenly. The group of women behind had +the horror, of seeing her sway, stagger, slip down, frantically writhe +on the verge half an instant, and then, with an awful scream, slide over +out of sight, as her arm was wrenched from the little tree. Those below +had seen it too. They sprang to their feet, and ran first forward, then +round and up the hill behind. + +For she had not slipped far. The cliff jutted out slightly a short +distance below the verge, and, by what seemed a miracle, the girl was +held by this second edge. Eight inches beyond, the sheer precipice +began, with the pile of broken stones sixty feet below. Anne was the +first to discover this, reaching the verge as the girl sank out of +sight; the others, shuddering, put their hands over their eyes and clung +together. + +"She has not fallen far," cried Anne, with a quick and burning +excitement. "Lie still, Valeria," she called down. "Close your eyes, +and make yourself perfectly motionless; hardly breathe. We will save you +yet." + +She took hold of the young tree to test its strength, at the same time +speaking rapidly to the others. "By lying down, and clasping that tree +trunk with one arm, and then stretching over, I can just reach her hand, +I think, and seize it. Do you see? That is what I am going to try to do. +I can not tell how strong this tree is; but--there is not a moment to +lose. After I am down, and have her hand, do anything you think best to +secure us. Either hold me yourselves or make ropes of your sacques and +shawls. If help comes soon, we can save her." While still speaking, she +threw herself down upon the edge, clasped one arm strongly round the +tree trunk, and stretching down sideways, her head and shoulder over the +verge, she succeeded in first touching, then clasping, the wrist of the +girl below, who could not see her rescuer as she lay facing the +precipice with closed eyes, helpless and inert. It was done, but only +two girls' wrists as a link. + +The others had caught hold of Anne as strongly as they could. + +"No," said Isabel, taking command excitedly; "one of you hold her +firmly, and the rest clasp arms and form a chain, all sitting down, to +that large tree in the rear. If the strain comes, throw yourselves +toward the large tree." + +So they formed a chain. Isabel, looking over, saw that the girl below +had clasped Anne's wrist with her own fingers also--a strong grasp, a +death-grasp. If she slipped farther, Anne must slip too. + +All this had not taken two minutes--scarcely a minute and a half. They +were now all motionless; they could hear the footsteps of the men +hurrying up the hill behind, coming nearer and nearer. But how slow they +were! How long! The men were exactly three minutes, and it is safe to +say that never in their lives had they rushed up a hill with such +desperate haste and energy. But--women expect wings. + +Heathcote and Dexter reached the summit first. There they beheld five +white-cheeked women, dressed in various dainty floating fabrics, and +adorned with ferns and wild flowers, sitting on the ground, clasping +each others' hands and arms. They formed a line, of which the woman at +one end had her arm round a large tree, and the woman at the other round +the body of a sixth, who was half over the cliff. A seventh and free +person, Isabel, stood at the edge, her eyes fixed on the heavy form +poised along the second verge below. No one spoke but Isabel. "She has +caught on something, and Anne is holding her," she explained, in quick +although low tones, as if afraid to disturb even the air. But while she +was speaking the two men had gone swiftly to the edge, at a little +distance below the group, and noted the position themselves. + +"Let me--" began Dexter. + +"No, you are too heavy," answered Heathcote. "_You_ must hold _me_." + +"Yes," said Isabel. "Quick! quick!" A woman in a hurry would say +"Quick!" to the very lightning. + +But if men are slow, they are sure. Heathcote stretched himself down +carefully on the other side of the little tree, but without touching it, +that being Anne's chief support, and bearing his full weight upon +Dexter, who in turn was held by the other men, who had now come up, he +seized Valeria's arm firmly above Anne's hand, and told Anne to let go +her hold. They were face to face; Anne's forehead was suffused with red, +owing to her cramped position. + +"I can not; she has grasped my wrist," she answered. + +"Let go, Miss Morle," called Heathcote. "I have you firmly; do you not +feel my hand?" + +But Valeria would not; perhaps could not. + +"Some of you take hold of Miss Douglas, then," called Heathcote to the +men above. "The girl below will not loosen her hold, and you will have +to draw us all up together." + +"Ready?" called the voices above, after an instant. + +"Ready," answered Heathcote. + +Then he felt himself drawn upward slowly, an inch, two inches; so did +Anne. The two downward-stretched arms tightened; the one upward-lifted +arm began to rise from the body to which it belonged. But what a weight +for that one arm! Valeria was a large, heavy girl, with a ponderous +weight of bone. In the position in which she lay, it seemed probable +that her body might swing over the edge, and almost wrench the arm from +its socket by its weight. + +"Stop," said Heathcote, perceiving this. The men above paused. "Are you +afraid to support her for one instant alone, Anne?" he asked. + +"No," murmured Anne. Her eyes were blood-shot; she saw him through a +crimson cloud. + +"Keep me firmly," he called out, warningly, to Dexter. Then, letting go +his first hold, he stretched down still farther, made a slight spring +forward, and succeeded in grasping Valeria's waist. "_Now_ pull up, and +quickly," he said, panting. + +And thus, together, Valeria firmly held by Heathcote, the two rescuers +and the rescued were drawn safely up from danger to safe level again. +Only a few feet, but all the difference between life and death. + +When the others looked down upon the now uncovered space, they saw that +it was only the stump of a slender cedar sapling, a few inches in +height, and two little edges of rock standing up unevenly here and +there, which had formed the parapet. A person might have tried all day, +with an acrobat's net spread below for safety, to cling there, without +success; Valeria had fallen at the one angle and in the one position +which made it possible. Two arms were strained, and that was all. + +Isabel was white with nervous fear; the others showed traces of tears. +But the cause of all this anxiety and trouble, although entirely +uninjured and not nervous (she had not seen herself), sat smiling upon +them all in a sweet suffering-martyr way, and finally went down the hill +with masculine escort on each side--apotheosis not before attained. Will +it be believed that this girl, fairly well educated and in her sober +senses, was simpleton enough to say to Heathcote that evening, in a +sentimental whisper, "How I wish that Miss Douglas had not touched me!" +There was faint moonlight, and the simpering expression of the neutral +face filled him with astonishment. Dexter would have understood: Dexter +was accustomed to all varieties of women, even the Valeria variety: but +Heathcote was not. All he said, therefore, was, "Why?" + +"Because then _you_ alone would have saved me," murmured Valeria, +sweetly. + +"If Miss Douglas had not grasped you as she did, we might all have been +too late," replied Heathcote, looking at her in wonder. + +"Ah, no; I did not slip farther. You would have been in time," said the +belle of Morleville, with what she considered a telling glance. And she +actually convinced herself that she had made an impression. + +"I ought not to have done it, of course, Louisa," she said to her +bosom-friend, in the privacy of her own room, after her return to +Morleville; "but I really felt that he deserved at least _that_ reward +for his great devotion to me, poor fellow!" + +"And why couldn't you like him, after all, Valeria dear?" urged Louisa, +deeply interested, and not a little envious. + +"I could not--I could not," replied Valeria, slowly and virtuously, +shaking her head. "He had not the principles I require in a man. But--I +felt sorry for him." + +Oh, ineffable Valerias! what would life be without you? + +Dexter had been the one to offer his arm to Anne when she felt able to +go down the hill. At the main-road crossing they found the Reverend Mr. +Sloane faithfully sitting on a dusty bank, with the orchid in his hand, +waiting for them. It seemed to Anne that a long and vague period of time +had passed since they parted from him. But she was glad to get the +orchid; she knew that no slight extraneous affair, such as the saving of +a life, would excuse the absence of that flower. Rachel Bannert had +chafed Heathcote's strained arm with her soft hands, and arranged a +sling for it made of her sash. She accompanied him back to the picnic +ground. It was worth while to have a strained arm. + +Miss Vanhorn considered that it was all nonsense, and was inclined to +reprove her niece. But she had the orchid; and when Dexter came up, and +in a few strong words expressed his admiration for the young girl's +courage, she changed her mind, and agreed with him, although regretting +"the display." + +"Girls like that Morle should be manacled," she said. + +"And I, for one, congratulate myself that there was, as you call it, a +display--a display of the finest resolution I have ever seen in a young +girl," said Dexter, warmly. "Miss Douglas was not even sure that the +little tree was firm; and of course she could not tell how long it would +take us to come." + +"They all assisted, I understand," said Miss Vanhorn, impassively. + +"They all assisted _afterward_. But not one of them would have taken her +place. Miss Morle seized her wrist immediately, and with the grasp of a +vise. They must inevitably have gone over together." + +"Well, well; that is enough, I think," said Miss Vanhorn. "We will drive +home now," she added, giving her orders as though both the carriage and +its owner were her own property. + +When she had been assisted into her place, and Anne had taken her seat +beside her, Heathcote, who had not spoken to his fellow-rescuer since +they reached level ground, came forward to the carriage door, with his +arm in its ribbon sling, and offered his hand. He said only a word or +two; but, as his eyes met hers, Anne blushed--blushed suddenly and +vividly. She was realizing for the first time how she must have looked +to him, hanging in her cramped position, with crimson face and wild +falling hair. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + "So on the tip of his subduing tongue + All kinds of arguments and questions deep." + + --SHAKSPEARE. + + "What is the use of so much talking? Is not this wild rose sweet + without a comment?"--HAZLITT. + + +Early the next morning Miss Vanhorn, accompanied by her niece, drove off +on an all-day botanizing expedition. Miss Vanhorn understood the worth +of being missed. At sunset she returned; and the girl she brought back +with her was on the verge of despair. For the old woman had spent the +hours in making her doubt herself in every possible way, besides +covering her with ridicule concerning the occurrences of the day before. +It was late when they entered the old ball-room, Anne looking newly +youthful and painfully shy; as they crossed the floor she did not raise +her eyes. Dexter was dancing with Rachel, whose soft arms were visible +under her black gauze, encircled with bands of old gold. Anne was +dressed in a thick white linen fabric (Miss Vanhorn having herself +selected the dress and ordered her to wear it), and appeared more like a +school-girl than ever. Miss Vanhorn, raising her eye-glass, had selected +her position on entering, like a general on the field: Anne was placed +next to Isabel on the wooden bench that ran round the room. And +immediately Miss Varce seemed to have grown suddenly old. In addition, +her blonde beauty was now seen to be heightened by art. Isabel herself +did not dream of this. Hardly any woman, whose toilet is a study, can +comprehend beauty in unattractive unfashionable attire. So she kept her +seat unconsciously, sure of her Paris draperies, while the superb youth +of Anne, heightened by the simplicity of the garb she wore, reduced the +other woman, at least in the eyes of all the men present, to the +temporary rank of a faded wax doll. + +Dexter soon came up and asked Anne to dance. She replied, in a low voice +and without looking up, that she would rather not; her arm was still +painful. + +"Go," said Miss Vanhorn, overhearing, "and do not be absurd about your +arm. I dare say Miss Morle's aches quite as badly." She was almost +always severe with her niece in Dexter's presence: could it have been +that she wished to excite his sympathy? + +Anne rose in silence; they did not dance, but, after walking up and down +the room once or twice, went out on the piazza. The windows were open: +it was the custom to sit here and look through at the dancers within. +They sat down near a window. + +"I have not had an opportunity until now, Miss Douglas, to tell you how +deeply I have admired your wonderful courage," began Dexter. + +"Oh, pray do not speak of it," said Anne, with intense embarrassment. +For Miss Vanhorn had harried her niece so successfully during the long +day, that the girl really believed that she had overstepped not only the +edge of the cliff, but the limits of modesty as well. + +"But I must," said Dexter. "In the life I have lived, Miss Douglas, I +have seen women of all classes, and several times have been with women +in moments of peril--on the plains during an Indian attack, at the mines +after an explosion, and once on a sinking steamer. Only one showed +anything like your quick courage of yesterday, and she was a mother who +showed it for her child. You did your brave deed for a stranger; and you +seem, to my eyes at least, hardly more than a child yourself. It is but +another proof of the innate nobility of our human nature, and I, an +enthusiast in such matters, beg you to let me personally thank you for +the privilege of seeing your noble act." He put out his hand, took hers, +and pressed it cordially. + +It was a set speech, perhaps--Dexter made set speeches; but it was +cordial and sincere. Anne, much comforted by this view of her impulsive +action, looked at him with thankfulness. This was different from Miss +Vanhorn's idea of it; different and better. + +"I once helped one of my little brothers, who had fallen over a cliff, +in much the same way," she said, with a little sigh of relief. "I am +glad you think it was excusable." + +"Excusable? It was superb," said Dexter. "And permit me to add, too, +that I am a better judge of heroism than the people here, who belong, +most of them, to a small, prejudiced, and I might say ignorant, class. +They have no more idea of heroism, of anything broad and liberal, or of +the country at large, than so many canary-birds born and bred in a cage. +They ridicule the mere idea of being in earnest about anything in this +ridiculous world. Yet the world is not so ridiculous as they think, and +earnestness carries with it a tremendous weight sometimes. All the great +deeds of which we have record have been done by earnest beliefs and +earnest enthusiasms, even though mistaken ones. It is easy enough, by +carefully abstaining from doing anything one's self, to maintain the +position of ridiculing the attempts of others; but it is more than +probable--in fact it is almost certain--that those very persons who +ridicule and criticise could not themselves do the very least of those +deeds, attain the very lowest of those successes, which afford them so +much entertainment in others." + +So spoke Dexter; and not without a tinge of bitterness, which he +disguised as scorn. A little of the indifference to outside opinion +which characterized the very class of whom he spoke would have made him +a contented, as he already was a successful, man. But there was a +surface of personal vanity over his better qualities which led him to +desire a tribute of universal liking; and this is the tribute the class +referred to always refuses--to the person who appears to seek it. + +"But, in spite of ridicule, self-sacrifice is still heroic, faith in our +humanity still beautiful, and courage still dear, to all hearts that +have true nobility," he continued. Then it struck him that he was +generalizing too much, feminine minds always preferring a personal +application. "I would rather have a girl who was brave and truthful for +my wife than the most beautiful woman on earth," he said, with the +quick, sudden utterance he used when he wished to appear impulsive. + +"But beautiful women can be truthful too," said Anne, viewing the +subject impartially, with no realization of any application to herself. + +"Can, but rarely are. I have, however, known--that is, I think I now +know--_one_," he added, with quiet emphasis, coming round on another +tack. + +"I hope you do," said Anne; "and more than one. Else your acquaintance +must be limited." As she spoke, the music sounded forth within, and +forgetting the subject altogether, she turned with girlish interest to +watch the dancers. + +Dexter almost laughed aloud to himself in his shadowed corner, she was +so unconscious. He had not thought her beautiful, save for the +perfection of her youthful bloom; but now he suddenly began to discover +the purity of her profile, and the graceful shape of her head, outlined +against the lighted window. His taste, however, was not for youthful +simplicity; he preferred beauty more ripened, and heightened by art. +Having lived among the Indians in reality, the true children of nature, +he had none of those dreams of ideal perfection in a brown skin and in +the wilderness which haunt the eyes of dwellers in cities, and mislead +even the artist. To him Rachel in her black floating laces, and Helen +Lorrington in her shimmering silks, were far more beautiful than an +Indian girl in her calico skirt could possibly be. But--Anne was +certainly very fair and sweet. + +"Of what were you thinking, Miss Douglas, during the minutes you hung +suspended over that abyss?" he asked, moving so that he could rest his +head on his hand, and thus look at her more steadily. + +Anne turned. For she always looked directly at the person who spoke to +her, having none of those side glances, tableaux of sweeping eyelashes, +and willful little motions which belong to most pretty girls. She +turned. And now Dexter was surprised to see how she was blushing, so +deeply and slowly that it must have been physically painful. + +"She is beginning to be conscious of my manner at last," he said to +himself, with self-gratulation. Then he added, in a lower voice, "_I_ +was thinking only of you; and what a brutal sacrifice it would be if +your life should be given for that other!" + +"Valeria is a good girl, I think," said Anne, recovering herself, and +answering as impersonally as though he had neither lowered his voice nor +thrown any intensity into his eyes. "However, none of the ladies here +approach Helen--Mrs. Lorrington; and I am sure _you_ agree with me in +thinking so, Mr. Dexter." + +"You are loyal to your friend." + +"No one has been so kind to me; I both love her and warmly admire her. +How I hope she may come soon! And when she does, as I can not help +loving to be with her, I suppose I shall see a great deal more of +_you_," said the girl, smiling, and in her own mind addressing the +long-devoted Knight-errant. + +"Shall you?" thought Dexter, not a little piqued by her readiness to +yield him even to her friend. "I will see that you do not long continue +quite so indifferent," he added to himself, with determination. Then, in +pursuance of this, he decided to go in and dance with some one else; +that should be a first step. + +"I believe I am engaged to Mrs. Bannert for the next dance," he said, +regretfully. "Shall I take you in?" + +"No; please let me stay here a while. My arm really aches dully all the +time, and the fresh air is pleasant." + +"And if Miss Vanhorn should ask?" + +"Tell her where I am." + +"I will," answered Dexter. And he fully intended to do it in any case. +He liked, when she was not with him, to have Anne safely under her +grandaunt's watchful vigilance, not exactly with the spirit of the dog +in the manger, but something like it. He was conscious, also, that he +possessed the chaperon's especial favor, and he did not intend to +forfeit it; he wished to use it for his own purposes. + +But Rachel marred his intention by crossing it with one of her own. + +Dexter admired Mrs. Bannert. He could not help it. When she took his +arm, he was for the time being hers. She knew this, and being piqued by +some neglect of Heathcote's, she met the other man at the door, and made +him think, without saying it, that she wished to be with him awhile on +the moon-lit piazza; for Heathcote was there. Dexter obeyed. And thus it +happened that Miss Vanhorn was not told at all; but supposing that her +niece was still with the escort she had herself selected, the +fine-looking owner of mines and mills, the future Senator, the "type of +American success," she rested mistakenly content, and spent the time +agreeably in making old Mrs. Bannert's life a temporary fever by +relating to her in detail some old buried scandals respecting the +departed Bannert, pretending to have forgotten entirely the chief +actor's name. + +In the mean while Heathcote, sauntering along the piazza in his turn, +came upon Anne sitting alone by the window, and dropped into the vacant +place beside her. He said a few words, playing with the fringe of +Rachel's sash, which he still wore, "her colors," some one remarked, but +made no allusion to the occurrences of the previous day. What he said +was unimportant, but he looked at her rather steadily, and she was +conscious of his glance. In truth, he was merely noting the effect of +her head and throat against the lighted window, as Dexter had done, the +outline being very distinct and lovely, a profile framed in light; but +she thought it was something different. A painful timidity again seized +her; instead of blushing, she turned pale, and with difficulty answered +clearly. "_He_ does not praise me," she thought. "_He_ does not say that +what I did yesterday was greater than anything among Indians and mines +and on sinking steamers. _He_ is laughing at me. Grandaunt was right, +and no doubt he thinks me a bold, forward girl who tried to make a +sensation." + +[Illustration: "HE WAS MERELY NOTING THE EFFECT."] + +Heathcote made another unimportant remark, but Anne, being now nervously +sensitive, took it as having a second meaning. She turned her head away +to hide the burning tears that were rising; but although unshed, +Heathcote saw them. His observation was instantaneous where women were +concerned; not so much active as intuitive. He had no idea what was the +matter with her: this was the second inexplicable appearance of tears. +But it would take more than such little damp occasions to disconcert +him; and rather at random, but with sympathy and even tenderness in his +voice, he said, soothingly, "Do not mind it," "it" of course +representing whatever she pleased. Then, as the drops fell, "Why, you +poor child, you are really in trouble," he said, taking her hand and +holding it in his. Then, after a moment: "I do not know, of course, what +it is that distresses you, but I too, although ignorant, am distressed +by it also. For since yesterday, Anne, you have occupied a place in my +memory which will never give you up. You will be an image there +forever." + +It was not much, after all; most improbable was it that any of those who +saw her risk her life that day would soon forget her. Yet there was +something in the glance of his eye and in the clasp of his hand that +soothed Anne inexpressibly. She never again cared what people thought of +her "boyish freak" (so Miss Vanhorn termed it), but laid the whole +memory away, embalmed shyly in sweet odors forever. + +Other persons now came in sight. "Shall we walk?" said Heathcote. They +rose; she took his arm. He did not lead her out to the shadowed path +below the piazza; they remained all the time among the lights and +passing strollers. Their conversation was inconclusive and unmomentous, +without a tinge of novel interest or brilliancy; not one sentence would +have been worth repeating. Yet such as it was, with its few words and +many silences which the man of the world did not exert himself to break, +it seemed to establish a closer acquaintance between them than eloquence +could have done. At least it was so with Anne, although she did not +define it. Heathcote had no need to define; it was an old story with +him. + +As the second dance ended, he took her round, as though by chance, to +the other side of the piazza, where he knew Rachel was sitting with Mr. +Dexter. Here he skillfully changed companions, simply by one or two of +his glances. For Rachel understood from them that he was bored, +repentant, and lonely; and once convinced of this, she immediately +executed the manoeuvre herself, with the woman's usual means of natural +little phrases and changes of position, Heathcote meanwhile standing +passive until it was all done. Heathcote generally stood passive. But +Dexter often had the appearance of exerting himself and arranging +things. + +Thus it happened that Miss Vanhorn saw Anne re-enter with the same +escort who had taken her forth. + +Another week passed, and another. Various scenes in the little dramas +played by the different persons present followed each other with more or +less notice, more or less success. One side of Dexter's nature was +completely fascinated with Rachel Bannert--with her beauty, which a +saint-worshipper would have denied, although why saintliness should be a +matter of blonde hair remains undiscovered; with her dress and grace of +manner; with her undoubted position in that narrow circle which he +wished to enter even while condemning--perhaps merely to conquer it and +turn away again. His rival with Rachel was Heathcote; he had discovered +that. He was conscious that he detested Heathcote. While thus secretly +interested in Rachel, he yet found time, however, to give a portion of +each day to Anne; he did this partly from policy and partly from jealous +annoyance. For here too he found the other man. Heathcote, in truth, +seemed to be amusing himself in much the same way. If Dexter waltzed +with Rachel, Heathcote offered his arm to Anne and took her out on the +piazza; if Dexter walked with Anne there, Heathcote took Rachel into the +rose-scented dusky garden. But Dexter had Miss Vanhorn's favor, if that +was anything. She went to drive with him and took Anne; she allowed him +to accompany them on their botanizing expeditions; she talked to him, +and even listened to his descriptions of his life and adventures. In +reality she cared no more for him than for a Choctaw; no more for his +life than for that of Robinson Crusoe. But he was a rich man, and he +would do for Anne, who was not a Vanhorn, but merely a Douglas. He had +showed some liking for the girl; the affair should be encouraged and +clinched. She, Katharine Vanhorn, would clinch it. He must be a very +different man from the diagnosis she had made up of him if he did not +yield to her clinching. + +During these weeks, therefore, there had been many long conversations +between Anne and Mr. Dexter; they had talked on many subjects +appropriate to the occasion--Dexter was always appropriate. He had +quoted pages of poetry, and he quoted well. He had, like Othello, +related his adventures, and they were thrilling and true. Then, when +more sure of her, he had turned the conversation upon herself. It is a +fascinating subject--one's self! Anne touched it timidly here and there, +but, never having had the habit or even the knowledge of self-analysis, +she was more uncomfortable than pleased, after all, and inclined +mentally to run away. She did not know herself whether she had more +imagination than timidity, whether conscientiousness was more developed +in her than ideality, or whether, if obliged to choose between saving +the life of a brother or a husband, she would choose the former or the +latter. Dexter had to drag her opinions of her own character from her +almost by main strength. But he persisted. He had never known an +imaginative young girl at the age when all things are problems to her +who was not secretly, often openly, fascinated by a sympathetic research +into her own timid little characteristics, opening like buds within her +one by one. Dexter's theory was correct, his rule a good one probably in +ninety-nine cases out of a hundred; only--Anne was the hundredth. She +began to be afraid of him as he came toward her, kind, smiling, with his +invisible air of success about him, ready for one of their long +conversations. Yet certainly he was as pleasant a companion as a +somewhat lonely young girl, isolated at a place like Caryl's, could +wish for; at least that is what every one would have said. + +During these weeks there had been no long talks with Heathcote. Miss +Vanhorn did not ask him to accompany them to the woods; she did not +utter to him the initiative word in passing which gives the opportunity. +Still, there had been chance meetings and chance words, of +course--five-minute strolls on the piazza, five-minute looks at the +sunset or at the stars, in the pauses between the dances. But where +Heathcote took a minute, Dexter had, if he chose, an hour. + +Although in one way now so idle, Anne seemed to herself never to have +been so busy before. Miss Vanhorn kept her at work upon plants through a +large portion of each day, and required her to be promptly ready upon +all other occasions. She barely found time to write to Miss Lois, who +was spending the summer in a state betwixt anger and joy, veering one +way by reason, the other by wrath, yet unable to refrain entirely from +satisfaction over the new clothes for the children which Miss Vanhorn's +money had enabled her to buy. The allowance was paid in advance; and it +made Anne light-hearted whenever she thought, as she did daily, of the +comforts it gave to those she loved. To Rast, Anne wrote in the early +morning, her only free time. Rast was now on the island, but he was to +go in a few days. This statement, continually repeated, like lawyers' +notices of sales postponed from date to date, had lasted all summer, and +still lasted. He had written to Anne as usual, until Miss Vanhorn, +although without naming him, had tartly forbidden "so many letters." +Then Anne asked him to write less frequently, and he obeyed. She, +however, continued to write herself as before, describing her life at +Caryl's, while he answered (as often as he was allowed), telling of his +plans, and complaining that they were to be separated so long. But he +was going to the far West, and there he should soon win a home for her. +He counted the days till that happy time. + +And then Anne would sit and dream of the island: she saw the old house, +Rast, and the children, Miss Lois's thin, energetic face, the blue +Straits, the white fort, and the little inclosure on the heights where +were the two graves. She closed her eyes and heard their voices; she +told them all she hoped. Only this one more winter, and then she could +see them again, send them help, and perhaps have one of the children +with her. And then, the year after-- But here Miss Vanhorn's voice +calling her name broke the vision, and with a sigh she returned to +Caryl's again. + +Helen's letters had ceased; but Anne jotted down a faithful record of +the events of the days for her inspection when she came. Rumors varied +at Caryl's respecting Mrs. Lorrington. Now her grandfather had died, and +left her everything; and now he had miraculously recovered, and deeded +his fortune to charitable institutions. Now he had existed without +nourishment for weeks, and now he had the appetite of ten, and exhibited +the capabilities of a second Methuselah. But in the mean time Helen was +still absent. Under these circumstances, Anne, if she had been older, +and desirous, might have collected voluminous expressions of opinion as +to the qualities, beauty, and history, past and present, of the absent +one from her dearest friends on earth. But the dearest friends on earth +had not the habit of talking to this young girl as a companion and +equal; to them she was simply that "sweet child," that "dear fresh-faced +school-girl," to whom they confided only amiable platitudes. So Anne +continued to hold fast undisturbed her belief in her beautiful +Helen--that strong, grateful, reverent feeling which a young girl often +cherishes for an older woman who is kind to her. + +One still, hazy morning Miss Vanhorn announced her programme for the +day. She intended to drive over to the county town, and Anne was to go +with her six miles of the distance, and be left at a certain glen, where +there was a country saw-mill. They had been there together several +times, and had made acquaintance with the saw-miller, his wife, and his +brood of white-headed children. The object of the present visit was a +certain fern--the Camptosorus, or walking-leaf--which Miss Vanhorn had +recently learned grew there, or at least had grown there within the +memory of living botanists. That was enough. Anne was to search for the +plant unflinchingly (the presence of the mill family being a sufficient +protection) throughout the entire day, and be in waiting at the +main-road crossing at sunset, when her grandaunt's carriage would stop +on its return home. In order that there might be no mistake as to the +time, she was allowed to wear one of Miss Vanhorn's watches. There were +fourteen of them, all heirlooms, all either wildly too fast in their +motions or hopelessly too slow, so that the gift was an embarrassing +one. Anne knew that if she relied upon the one intrusted to her care, +she would be obliged to spend about three hours at the crossing to allow +for the variations in one direction or the other which might erratically +attack it during the day. But her hope lay in the saw-miller's +bright-faced little Yankee clock. At their early breakfast she prepared +a lunch for herself in a small basket, and before Caryl's had fairly +awakened, the old coupé rolled away from the door, bearing aunt and +niece into the green country. When they reached the wooded hills at the +end of the six miles, Anne descended with her basket, her digging +trowel, and her tin plant case. She was to go over every inch of the +saw-miller's ravine, and find that fern, living or dead. Miss Vanhorn +said this, and she meant the plant; but it sounded as if she meant Anne. +With renewed warnings as to care and diligence, she drove on, and Anne +was left alone. It was ten o'clock, and a breathless August day. She +hastened up the little path toward the saw-mill, glad to enter the wood +and escape the heat of the sun. She now walked more slowly, and looked +right and left for the fern; it was not there, probably, so near the +light, but she had conscientiously determined to lose no inch of the +allotted ground. Owing to this slow search, half an hour had passed when +she reached the mill. She had perceived for some time that it was not in +motion; there was no hum of the saw, no harsh cry of the rent boards: +she said to herself that the miller was getting a great log in place on +the little cart to be drawn up the tramway. But when she reached the +spot, the miller was not there; the mill was closed, and only the +peculiar fresh odor of the logs recently sawn asunder told that but a +short time before the saw had been in motion. She went on to the door of +the little house, and knocked; no one answered. Standing on tiptoe, she +peeped in through the low window, and saw that the rooms were empty, and +in that shining order that betokens the housewife's absence. Returning +to the mill, she walked up the tramway; a bit of paper, for the +information of chance customers, was pinned to the latch: "All hands +gone to the sirkus. Home at sunset." She sat down, took off her straw +hat, and considered what to do. + +Three hundred and sixty-four days of that year Saw-miller Pike, his +wife, his four children, and his hired man, one or all of them, were on +that spot; their one absence chance decreed should be on this particular +August Thursday when Anne Douglas came there to spend the day. She was +not afraid; it was a quiet rural neighborhood without beggars or tramps. +Her grandaunt would not return until sunset. She decided to look for the +fern, and if she found it within an hour or two, to walk home, and send +a boy back on horseback to wait for Miss Vanhorn. If she did not find it +before afternoon, she would wait for the carriage, according to +agreement. Hanging her basket and shawl on a tree branch near the mill, +she entered the ravine, and was soon hidden in its green recesses. Up +and down, up and down the steep rocky sides she climbed, her tin case +swinging from her shoulder, her trowel in her belt; she neglected no +spot, and her track, if it had been visible, would have shown itself +almost as regular as the web of the geometric spider. Up and down, up +and down, from the head of the ravine to its foot on one side: nothing. +It seemed to her that she had seen the fronds and curled crosiers of a +thousand ferns. Her eyes were tired, and she threw herself down on a +mossy bank not far from the mill to rest a moment. There was no use in +looking at the watch; still, she did it, and decided that it was either +half past eleven or half past three. The remaining side of the ravine +gazed at her steadily; she knew that she must clamber over every inch +of those rocks also. She sighed, bathed her flushed cheeks in the brook, +took down her hair, and braided it in two long school-girl braids, which +hung down below her waist; then she tied her straw hat to a branch, +pinned her neck-tie on the brim, took off her linen cuffs, and laid them +within together with her gloves, and leaving the tin plant case and the +trowel on the bank, started on her search. Up and down, up and down, +peering into every cranny, standing on next to nothing, swinging herself +from rock to rock; making acquaintance with several very unpleasant rock +spiders, and hastily constructing bridges for them of small twigs, so +that they could cross from her skirt to their home ledge in safety; +finding a trickling spring, and drinking from it; now half way down the +ravine, now three-quarters; and still no walking-leaf. She sat down on a +jutting crag to take breath an instant, and watched a bird on a tree +branch near by. He was one of those little brown songsters that sing as +follows: + +[Illustration: Musical notation] + +Seeing her watching him, he now chanted his little anthem in his best +style. + +"Very well," said Anne, aloud. + +"Oh no; only so-so," said a voice below. She looked down, startled, It +was Ward Heathcote. + +[Illustration: "SHE BATHED HER FLUSHED CHEEK."] + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + "From beginning to end it was all undeniable nonsense; but not + necessarily the worse for that."--NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. + + +Heathcote was sitting under a tree by the brook-side, as though he had +never been anywhere else. + +"When did you come?" said Anne, looking down from her perch. + +"Fifteen minutes or so ago," he answered, looking up from his couch. + +"_Why_ did you come?" + +"To see you, of course." + +"No; I can not believe that. The day is too warm." + +"You, at any rate, look cool enough." + +"It is cool up here among the rocks; but it must be intense out on the +high-road." + +"I did not come by the high-road." + +"How, then, did you come?" + +"Across the fields." + +"Why?" + +"Miss Douglas, were you born in New Hampshire? As I can not call all +this information you require up hill, I shall be obliged to come up +myself." + +As he rose, Anne saw that he was laden with her dinner basket and shawl, +her plant case and trowel, and her straw hat and its contents, which he +balanced with exaggerated care. "Oh, leave them all there," she called +down, laughingly. + +But no, Heathcote would not; he preferred to bring them all with him. +When he reached her rock, he gravely delivered them into her hands, and +took a seat beside her, fanning himself with his hat. + +"And now, how does it happen that you are here?" repeated Anne, placing +her possessions in different niches. + +"You insist? Why not let it pass for chance? No? Well, then, by +horseback to Powell's: horse loses shoe; blacksmith's shop. Blacksmith +talkative; second customer that morning; old coupé, fat old coachman, +and fat brown horse, who also loses shoe. Coachman talkative; tells all +about it; blacksmith tells _me_; young lady left at saw-mill to be taken +up on return. I, being acquainted with said saw-mill and young lady, +come across by lane through the fields. Find a dinner basket; look in; +conclude to bring it on. Find a small tin coffin, and bring that too. +Find a hat, ditto. Hat contains--" + +"Never mind," said Anne, laughing. "But where is your horse?" + +"Tied to a tree." + +"And what are you going to do?" + +"At present, nothing. By-and-by, if you will permit it, I _may_--smoke a +cigar." + +"I have no idea what time it is," said Anne, after a pause, while +Heathcote, finding a comfortable place with his back against the rocks, +seemed disposed to enjoy one of his seasons of silence. + +He drew out his watch, and without looking at it held it toward her. +"You need not tell; _I_ do not want to know," he said. + +"In spite of that, I feel it to be my duty to announce that it is nearly +half past twelve; you may still reach home in time for lunch." + +"Thanks. I know what I shall have for lunch." + +"What?" + +"One small biscuit, three slices of cake, one long corpulent pickle, and +an apple." + +"You have left nothing for me," said Anne, laughing over this disclosure +of the contents of her basket. + +"On the contrary, I have brought you something," said Heathcote, gravely +producing two potatoes uncooked, a pinch of salt in paper, and a quarter +of a loaf of bread, from the pockets of his blue flannel coat. + +Anne burst into a peal of laughter, and the last shadow of timidity +vanished. Heathcote seemed for the moment as young as Rast himself. + +"Where have you been foraging?" she said. + +"Foraging? I beg your pardon; nothing of the kind. I bought these +supplies regularly from a farmer's wife, and paid for them in the coin +of the land. I remarked to her that I should be out all day, and hated +hunger; it was so sanguinary." + +"But you will not be out all day." + +"Until eight minutes of six, precisely; that is the time I have selected +for my return." Then, seeing that she looked grave, he dropped into his +usual manner, and added, "Of course, Miss Douglas, I shall only remain a +little while--until the noon heat is over. You are looking for a rare +flower, I believe?" + +"A fern." + +"What is the color of its flower?" + +Anne laughed again. "A fern has no flower," she explained. "See, it is +like this." And plucking a slender leaf, she described the wished-for +plant minutely. "It stretches out its long tip--so; touches the +earth--so; puts down a new little root from the leaf's end--so; and then +starts on again--so." + +"In a series of little green leaps?" + +"Yes." + +Heathcote knew as much of ferns as he did of saurians; but no subject +was too remote for him when he chose to appear interested. He now chose +to appear so, and they talked of ferns for some time. Then Anne said +that she must finish the remaining quarter of the ravine. Heathcote +decided to smoke a cigar where he was first; then he would join her. + +But when, half an hour later, she came into view again beside the brook +below him, apparently he had not stirred. "Found it?" he said. + +"No." + +"There is a sort of thin, consumptive, beggarly little leaf up here +which looks something like your description. Shall I bring him down?" + +"No, no; do not touch it," she answered, springing up the rocks toward +him. "If it should be! But--I don't believe you know." + +But he did know; for it was there. Very small and slender, creeping +close to the rocks in the shyest way, half lost in the deep moss; but +there! Heathcote had not moved; but the shrinking little plant happened +to have placed itself exactly on a line with his idle eyes. + +"It is unfair that you should find it without stirring, while I have had +such a hard climb all in vain," said Anne, carefully taking up the +little plant, with sufficient earth and moss to keep it comfortable. + +"It is ever so," replied her companion, lazily, watching the spirals of +cigar smoke above his head: "wait, and in time everything will come to +you. If not in this world, then certainly in the next, which is the +world I have selected for my own best efforts." + +When the fern was properly bedded in the tin case, and the cover closed, +Anne sat down for a moment to rest. + +"When shall we have lunch?" asked the smoker. + +"_You?_" + +"Yes; I am bitterly hungry." + +"But you said you were only going to stay a short time." + +"Half an hour longer." + +"What time is it now?" + +"I have no idea." + +"You can look." + +"I refuse to look. Amiability has its limit." + +"I had intended to walk home, if I found the fern in time," said Anne. + +"Ah? But I think we are going to have a storm. Probably a +thunder-storm," said Heathcote, languidly. + +"How do you know? And--what shall we do?" + +"I know, because I have been watching that little patch of sky up there. +As to what we shall do--we can try the mill." + +They rose as he spoke. Anne took the plant case. "I will carry this," +she said; "the walking-leaf must be humored." + +"So long as I have the dinner basket I remain sweet-tempered," answered +Heathcote. + +She put on her hat, but her neck-tie and cuffs were gone. + +"I have them safe," he said. "They are with the potatoes." + +Reaching the mill, they tried the door, but found it securely fastened. +They tried the house door and windows, with the same result. Unless they +broke several panes of glass they could not gain entrance, and even then +it was a question whether Heathcote would be able to thrust inward the +strong oaken stick above, which held the sash down. + +"Do mount your horse and ride home," urged Anne. "I shall be safe here, +and in danger of nothing worse than a summer shower. I will go back in +the ravine and find a beech-tree. Its close, strong little leaves will +keep off the rain almost entirely. Why should both of us be drenched?" + +"Neither of us shall be. Come with me, and quickly, for the storm is +close upon us. There is a little cave, or rather hollow in the rock, not +far above the road; I think it will shelter us. I, for one, have no +desire to be out in your 'summer shower,' and ride home to Caryl's +afterward in a limp, blue-stained condition." + +"How long will it take us to reach this cave?" said Anne, hesitating. + +"Three minutes, perhaps." + +"I suppose we had better go, then," she said, slowly. "But pray do not +take those things. They will all have to be brought down again." + +"They shall be," said Heathcote, leading the way toward the road. + +It was not a long climb, but in some places the ascent was steep. A +little path was their guide to the "cave"--a hollow in the ledge, which +the boys of the neighborhood considered quite a fortress, a bandit's +retreat. A rude ladder formed the front steps of their rock nest, and +Anne was soon ensconced within, her gray shawl making a carpet for them +both. The cave was about seven feet in depth, and four or five in +breadth; the rock roof was high above their heads. Behind there was a +dark, deep little recess, blackened with smoke, which the boys had +evidently used as an oven. The side of the hill jutted out slightly +above them, and this, rather than the seven feet of depth possessed by +the niche, made it possible that they would escape the rain. + +The cave was in an angle of the hill. From Heathcote's side part of the +main road could be seen, and the saw-mill; but Anne, facing the other +way, saw only the fields and forest, the sparkle of the little +mill-stream, and the calmer gleam of the river. One half of the sky was +of the deepest blue, one half of the expanse of field and forest golden +in the sunshine. Over the other half hung a cloud and a shadow of deep +purple-black, which were advancing rapidly, although there was not, +where the two gazers sat, so much as a breath of stirred air. + +"It will soon be here," said Heathcote. "See that white line across the +forest? That is the wind turning over the leaves. In the fields it makes +the grain look suddenly gray as it is bent forward." + +"I should not have known it was the wind," said Anne. "I have only seen +storms on the water." + +"That yellow line is the Mellport plank-road; all the dust is whirling. +Are you afraid of lightning?" + +"Shall we have it?" + +"Yes; here it is." And, with a flash, the wind was upon them. A cloud of +dust rose from the road below; they bent their heads until the whirlwind +had passed by on its wild career down the valley. When, laughing and +breathless, Anne opened her eyes again, her hair, swept out of its loose +braids, was in a wild mass round her shoulders, and she barely saved her +straw hat, which was starting out to follow the whirlwind. And now the +lightning was vivid and beautiful, cutting the blue-black clouds with +fierce golden darts, while the thunder followed, peal after peal, until +the hill itself seemed to tremble. A moment later came the rain, hiding +both the valley and sky with its thick gray veil: they were shut in. + +As Heathcote had thought, the drops only grazed their doorway. They +moved slightly back from the entrance; he took off his hat, hung it on a +rock knob, and inquired meekly if they might not _now_ have lunch. Anne, +who, between the peals, had been endeavoring to recapture her hair, and +had now one long thick braid in comparative order, smiled, and advised +him to stay his hunger with the provisions in his own pockets. He took +them out and looked at them. + +"If the boys who use this hole for an oven have left us some wood, we +will roast and toast these, and have a hot lunch yet," he said, +stretching back to search. Lighting a match, he examined the hole; the +draught that blew the flame proved that it had an outlet above. "Boys +know something, after all. And here is their wood-pile," he said, +showing Anne, by the light of a second match, a cranny in the rock at +one side neatly filled with small sticks and twigs. The rain fell in a +thick dark sheet outside straight down from the sky to the ground with a +low rushing sound. In a minute or two a tiny blue flame flickered on +their miniature hearth, went out, started again, turned golden, caught +at the twigs, and grew at last into a brisk little fire. Heathcote, +leaning on his elbow, his hands and cuffs grimed, watched and tended it +carefully. He next cut his quarter loaf into slices, and toasted--or +rather heated--them on the point of his knife-blade; he put his two +potatoes under hot ashes, like two Indian mounds, arranged his pinch of +salt ceremoniously upon a stone, and then announced that he had prepared +a meal to which all persons present were generously invited, with a +polite unconsciousness as to any covered baskets they might have in +their possession, or the supposed contents of said receptacles. Anne, +having finished the other long braid and thrown it behind her, was now +endeavoring to wash her hands in the rain. In this attempt Heathcote +joined her, but only succeeded in broadening the grimy spots. The girl's +neck-tie and cuffs were still confiscated. She was aware that a linen +collar, fastened only with a white pin, is not what custom requires at +the base of a chin, and that wrists bare for three inches above the hand +are considered indecorous. At least in the morning, certain qualities in +evening air making the same exposure, even to a much greater extent, +quite different. But she was not much troubled; island life had made her +indifferent even to these enormities. + +The rain did not swerve from its work; it came down steadily; they could +not see through the swift lead-colored drops. But, within, the little +cave was cheery in the fire-light, and the toasted bread had an +appetizing fragrance. At least Heathcote said so; Anne thought it was +burned. She opened her basket, and they divided the contents +impartially--half a biscuit, half a pickle, half an apple, and a slice +and a half of cake for each. The potatoes were hardly warmed through, +but Heathcote insisted that they should be tasted, "in order not to +wickedly waste the salt." Being really hungry, they finished everything, +he stoutly refusing to give up even a crumb of his last half-slice of +cake, which Anne begged for on the plea of being still in school. By +this time they were full of merriment, laughing and paying no attention +to what they said, talking nonsense and enjoying it. Anne's cheeks +glowed, her eyes were bright as stars, her brown hair, more loosely +fastened than usual, lay in little waves round her face; her beautiful +arched lips were half the time parted in laughter, and her rounded arms +and hands seemed to fall into charming poses of their own, whichever way +she turned. + +About three o'clock the veil of rain grew less dense; they could see the +fields again; from where he sat, Heathcote could see the road and the +mill. + +"Can we not go now?" said Anne. + +"By no means, unless you covet the drenching we have taken so much care +to escape. But by four I think it will be over." He lit a cigar, and +leaning back against the rock, said, "Tell me some more about that +island; about the dogs and the ice." + +"No," said Anne, coloring a little; "you are laughing at me. I shall +tell you no more." + +Then he demanded autocratically that she should sing. "I choose the song +you sang on New-Year's night; the ballad." + +And Anne sang the little chanson, sang it softly and clearly, the low +sound of the rain forming an accompaniment. + +"Do you know any Italian songs?" + +"Yes." + +"Please sing me one." + +She sang one of Belzini's selections, and remembered to sing it as Tante +had directed. + +"You do not sing that as well as the other; there is no expression. +However, that could hardly be expected, I suppose." + +"Yes, it could, and I know how. Only Tante told me not to do it," said +the girl, with a touch of annoyance. + +"Tante not being here, I propose that you disobey." + +And Anne, not unwillingly, began; it had always been hard for her to +follow Tante's little rule. She had heard the song more than once in the +opera to which it belonged, and she knew the Italian words. She put her +whole heart into it, and when she ended, her eyes were dimmed with +emotion. + +Heathcote looked at her now, and guardedly. This was not the school-girl +of the hour before. But it was, and he soon discovered that it was. +Anne's emotion had been impersonal; she had identified herself for the +time being with the song, but once ended, its love and grief were no +more to her--her own personality as Anne Douglas--than the opera itself. + +"Curious!" thought the man beside her. + +And then his attention was diverted by a moving object advancing along +the main road below. Through the rain he distinguished the light buggy +of Gregory Dexter and his pair of fine black horses. They had evidently +been under shelter during the heaviest rain-fall, and had now ventured +forth again. Heathcote made no sign, but watched. Anne could not see the +road. Dexter stopped at the mill, tied his horses to a post, and then +tried the doors, and also the door of the miller's little cottage, +peering through the windows as they had done. Then he went up the ravine +out of sight, as if searching for some one. After five minutes he +returned, and waited, hesitating, under a tree, which partially +protected him from the still falling drops. Heathcote was now roused to +amusement. Dexter was evidently searching for Anne. He lit another +cigar, leaned back against the rock in a comfortable position, and began +a desultory conversation, at the same time watching the movements of +his rival below. A sudden after-shower had now come up--one of those +short but heavy bursts of rain on the departing edge of a thunder-storm, +by which the unwary are often overtaken. Dexter, leaving his tree, and +seizing the cushions of the buggy, hurried up the tramway to the mill +door again, intending to force an entrance. But the solid oak stood firm +in spite of his efforts, and the rain poured fiercely down. Heathcote +could see him look upward to the sky, still holding the heavy cushions, +and his sense of enjoyment was so great that he leaned forward and +warmly shook hands with Anne. + +"Why do you do that?" she asked, in surprise. + +"I remembered that I had not shaken hands with you all day. If we +neglect our privileges, the gods take them from us," he answered. And +then, he had the exquisite pleasure of seeing the man below attempt to +climb up to one of the small mill windows, slip down twice, and at last +succeed so far as to find footing on a projecting edge, and endeavor to +open the stubborn sash, which plainly would not yield. He was exerting +all his strength. But without avail. It was a true dog-day afternoon, +the rain having made the air more close and lifeless than before. The +strong draught up the chimney of their cave had taken the heat of the +small fire away from them; yet even there among the cool rocks they had +found it necessary to put out the little blaze, as making their niche +too warm. Down below in the open valley the heat was unbroken; and to be +wet and warm, and obliged to exert all one's strength at the same time, +is hard for a large man like Gregory Dexter. The rain dripped from the +roof directly down upon his hat, and probably, the looker-on thought +with glee, was stealing down his back also. At any rate he was becoming +impatient, for he broke a pane of glass and put his hand through to try +and reach the sash-spring. But the spring was broken; it would not move. +And now he must be growing angry, for he shivered all the panes, broke +the frame, and then tried to clamber in; the cushions were already +sacrificed down on the wet boards below. But it is difficult for a +broad-shouldered heavy man to climb through a small window, especially +if he have no firm foot-hold as a beginning. Heathcote laughed out aloud +now, and Anne leaned forward to look also. + +"Who is it?" she said, as she caught sight of the struggling figure. At +this moment Dexter had one knee on the sill and his head inside, but he +was too broad for the space. + +"He is caught! He can neither get in nor out," said Heathcote, in an +ecstasy of mirth. + +"Who is it?" said Anne again. + +"Dexter, of course; he is here looking for you. There! he has +slipped--he is in real danger! No; he has firm hold with his hands. See +him try to find the edge with his feet. Oh, this is too good!" And +throwing back his head, Heathcote laughed until his brown eyes shone. + +But Anne, really alarmed, held her breath; then, when the struggling +figure at last found its former foot-hold, she gave a sigh of relief. +"We must go down," she said. + +"And why, Miss Douglas?" + +"Did you not say he had come for me?" + +"That was a supposition merely. And did not I come for you too?" + +"But as he is there, would it not be better for us to go down?" + +"Have we not done well enough by ourselves so far? And besides, at this +late hour, I see no object in getting a wetting merely for his sake." + +"It is not raining hard now." + +"But it is still raining." + +She leaned forward and looked down at Dexter again; he was standing +under a tree wiping his hat with his handkerchief. + +"Please let me go down," she said, entreatingly, like a child. + +"No," said Heathcote, smiling back, and taking her hand as if to make +sure. "Do you remember the evening after the quarry affair, Anne? and +that I took your hand, and held it as I am doing now? Did you think me +impertinent?" + +"I thought you very kind. After that I did not mind what grandaunt had +said." + +"And what had she said? But no matter; something disagreeable, without +doubt. Even the boys who frequent this retreat could not well have +grimier hands than we have now: look at them. No, you can not be +released, unless you promise." + +"What?" + +"Not to go down until I give you leave: I will give it soon." + +"I promise." + +With a quiet pressure, and one rather long look, he relinquished her +hand, and leaned back against the rock again. + +"I wonder how Dexter knew that you were here?" + +"Perhaps he met grandaunt. I heard him say that he was going to Mellport +to-day." + +"That is it. The roads cross, and he must have met her. Probably, then, +he has her permission to take you home. Miss Douglas, will you accept +advice?" + +"I will at least listen to it," said Anne, smiling. + +"When the rain stops, as it will in a few minutes, go down alone. And +say nothing to Mr. Dexter about me. Now do not begin to batter me with +that aggressive truthfulness of yours. You can, of course, tell Miss +Vanhorn the whole; but certainly you are not accountable to Gregory +Dexter." + +"But why should I not tell him?" + +"Because it is as well that he should not know I have been here with you +all day," said Heathcote, quietly, but curious to hear what she would +answer. + +"Was it wrong?" + +"It was a chance. But he would think I planned it. Of course I supposed +the miller and his family were here." + +"But if it was wrong for you to be here when you found them absent, why +did you stay?" said Anne, looking at him gravely. + +"The storm came up, you know; of course I could not leave you. Do not +look so serious; all is well if we keep it to ourselves. And Miss +Vanhorn's first command to you will be the same. She will look blackly +at me for a day or two, but I shall be able to bear that. Take my +advice; to Dexter, at least, say nothing." Then, seeing her still +unconvinced, he added, "On my own account, too, I wish you would not +tell him." + +"You mean it?" + +"Yes." + +"Then I will not," she answered, raising her sincere eyes to his. + +Heathcote laughed, lightly lifted her hand, and touched the blue-veined +wrist with his lips. "You true-hearted little girl!" he said. "I was +only joking. As far as I am concerned, you may tell Dexter and the whole +world. But seriously, on your own account, I beg you to refrain. Promise +me not to tell him until you have seen Miss Vanhorn." + +"Very well; I promise that," said Anne. + +"Good-by, then. The rain is over, and he will be going. I will not show +myself until I see you drive away. What good fortune that my horse was +tied out of sight! Must you carry all those things, basket, tin case, +and all? Why not let me try to smuggle some of them home on horseback? +You would rather not? I submit. There, your hat has fallen off; I will +tie it on." + +"But the strings do not belong there," said Anne, laughing merrily as he +knotted the two blue ribbons with great strength (as a man always ties a +ribbon) under her chin. + +"Never mind; they look charming." + +"And my cuffs?" + +"You can not have them; I shall keep them as souvenirs. And now--have +you had a pleasant day, Anne?" + +"Very," replied the girl, frankly. + +They shook hands in farewell, and then she went down the ladder, her +shawl, plant case, and basket on her arm. Heathcote remained in the +cave. When she had reached the ground, and was turning to descend the +hill, a low voice above said, "Anne." + +She glanced up; Heathcote was lying on the floor of the cave with his +eyes looking over the edge. "Shake hands," he said, cautiously +stretching down an arm. + +"But I did." + +"Once more." + +She put down her shawl, plant case, and basket, and, climbing one round +of the ladder, extended her hand; their finger-tips touched. + +"Thanks," said the voice above, and the head was withdrawn. + +Dexter, after doing what he could to make the buggy dry, was on the +point of driving away, when he saw a figure coming toward him, and +recognized Anne. He jumped lightly out over the wheel (he could be light +on occasion), and came to meet her. It was as they had thought; he had +met Miss Vanhorn, and learning where Anne was, had received permission +to take her home. + +"I shall not be disappointed after all," he said, his white teeth +gleaming as he smiled, and his gray eyes resting upon her with cordial +pleasure. He certainly was a fine-looking man. But--too large for a mill +window. Fortunately mill windows are not standards of comparison. + +"It has been raining a long time; where did you find shelter?" he asked, +as the spirited horses, fretted by standing, started down the moist +brown road at a swift pace. + +"In a little cave in the hill-side above us," answered Anne, conscious +that at that very moment Heathcote was probably watching them. She +hesitated, and then, in spite of a distinct determination not to do it, +could not help turning her head and glancing backward and upward for a +second behind her companion's broad shoulders. In answer, a handkerchief +fluttered from above; he was watching, then. A bright flush rose in her +cheeks, and she talked gayly to Dexter during the six-mile drive between +the glistening fields, over the wet dark bridge, and up to the piazza of +Caryl's, where almost every one was sitting enjoying the coolness after +the rain, and the fresh fragrance of the grateful earth. Rachel Bannert +came forward as they alighted, and resting her hand caressingly on +Anne's shoulder, hoped that she was not tired--and were they caught in +the rain?--and did they observe the peculiar color of the clouds?--and +so forth, and so forth. Rachel was dressed for the evening in black lace +over black velvet, with a crimson rose in her hair; the rich drapery +trailed round her in royal length, yet in some way failed to conceal +entirely the little foot in its black slipper. Anne did not hurry away; +she stood contentedly where she was while Rachel asked all her little +questions. Dexter had stepped back into the buggy with the intention of +driving round himself to the stables; he had no desire to expose the +wrinkled condition of his attire to the groups on the piazza. But in +that short interval he noted (as Rachel had intended he should note) +every detail of her appearance. Her only failure was that he failed to +note also, by comparison, the deficiencies of Anne. + +When he was gone, being released, Anne ran up to her room, placed the +fern in water, and then, happening to think of it, looked at herself in +the glass. The result was not cheering. Like most women, she judged +herself by the order of her hair and dress; they were both frightful. + +Miss Vanhorn, also caught in the storm, did not return until late +twilight. Anne, not knowing what she would decree when she heard the +story of the day, had attired herself in the thick white school-girl +dress which had been selected on another occasion of penance--the +evening after the adventure at the quarry. It was an inconvenient time +to tell the story. Miss Vanhorn was tired and cross, tea had been sent +up to the room, and Bessmer was waiting to arrange her hair. "What have +you been doing now?" she said. "Climbing trees? Or breaking in colts?" + +Anne told her tale briefly. The old woman listened, without comment, but +watching her closely all the time. + +"And he said to tell you," said Anne, in conclusion, "but not to tell +Mr. Dexter, unless you gave me permission." + +"Mr. Dexter alone?" + +"Mr. Dexter or--any one, I suppose." + +"Very well; that will do. And Mr. Heathcote is right; you are not to +breathe a word of this adventure to any one. But what fascination it is, +Anne Douglas, which induces you to hang yourself over rocks, and climb +up into caves, I can not imagine! Luckily this time you had not a crowd +of spectators. Bring me the fern, and--But what, in the name of wonder, +are you wearing? Go to your room immediately and put on the lavender +silk." + +"Oh, grandaunt, _that_?" + +"Do as I bid you. Bessmer, you can come in now. I suppose it is ordered +for the best that young girls should be such hopeless simpletons!" + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + "No summer ever came back, and no two summers ever were alike. + Times change, and people change; and if our hearts do not change as + readily, so much the worse for us."--NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. + + "But, ah! who ever shunn'd by precedent + The destined ills she must herself assay?" + + --SHAKSPEARE. + + +When Miss Vanhorn and her niece entered the ball-room, late in the +evening, heads were turned to look at them; for the old woman wore all +her diamonds, fine stones in old-fashioned settings, and shone like a +little squat-figured East Indian god. Anne was beside her, clad in pale +lavender--an evening costume simply made, but more like full dress than +anything she had yet worn. Dexter came forward instantly, and asked her +to dance. He thought he had never seen her look so well--so much like +the other ladies; for heretofore there had been a marked difference--a +difference which he had neither comprehended nor admired. Anne danced. +New invitations came, and she accepted them. She was enjoying it all +frankly, when through a window she caught sight of Heathcote on the +piazza looking in. She happened to be dancing with Mr. Dexter, and at +once she felt nervous in the thought that he might at any moment ask her +some question about the day which she would find difficulty in +answering. But she had not thought of this until her eyes fell on +Heathcote. + +Dexter had seen Heathcote too, and he had also seen her sudden +nervousness. He was intensely vexed. Could Ward Heathcote, simply by +looking through a window, make a girl grow nervous in that way, and a +girl with whom he, Dexter, was dancing? With inward angry determination, +he immediately asked her to dance again. But he need not have feared +interference; Heathcote did not enter the room during the evening. + +From the moment Miss Vanhorn heard the story of that day her method +regarding her niece changed entirely; for Mr. Heathcote would never have +remained with her, storm or no storm, through four or five hours, unless +he either admired her, had been entertained by her, or liked her for +herself alone, as men will like occasionally a frank, natural young +girl. + +According to old Katharine, Anne was not beautiful enough to excite his +admiration, not amusing enough to entertain him; it must be, therefore, +that he liked her to a certain degree for herself alone. Mr. Heathcote +was not a favorite of old Katharine's, yet none the less was his +approval worth having, and none the less, also, was he an excellent +subject to rouse the jealousy of Gregory Dexter. For Dexter was not +coming forward as rapidly as old Katharine had decreed he should come. +Old Katharine had decided that Anne was to marry Dexter; but if in the +mean time her girlish fancy was attracted toward Heathcote, so much the +better. It would all the more surely eliminate the memory of that fatal +name, Pronando. Of course Heathcote was only amusing himself, but he +must now be encouraged to continue to amuse himself. She ceased taking +Anne to the woods every day; she made her sit among the groups of ladies +on the piazza in the morning, with worsted, canvas, and a pattern, which +puzzled poor Anne deeply, since she had not the gift of fancy-work, nor +a talent for tidies. She asked Heathcote to teach her niece to play +billiards, and she sent her to stroll on the river-bank at sunset with +him under a white silk parasol. At the same time, however, she continued +to summon Mr. Dexter to her side with the same dictatorial manner she +had assumed toward him from the first, and to talk to him, and encourage +him to talk to her through long half-hours of afternoon and evening. The +old woman, with her airs of patronage, her half-closed eyes, and frank +impertinence, amused him more than any one at Caryl's. With his own +wide, far-reaching plans and cares and enterprises all the time pushing +each other forward in his mind, it was like coming from a world of +giants to one of Lilliputians to sit down and talk with limited, +prejudiced, narrow old Katharine. She knew that he was amused; she was +even capable of understanding it, viewed from his own stand-point. That +made no difference with her own. + +After three or four days of the chaperon's open arrangement, it grew +into a custom for Heathcote to meet Anne at sunset in the garden, and +stroll up and down with her for half an hour. She was always there, +because she was sent there. Heathcote never said he would come again; it +was supposed to be by chance. But one evening Anne remarked frankly that +she was very glad he came; her grandaunt sent her out whether she wished +to come or not, and the resources of the small garden were soon +exhausted. They were sitting in an arbor at the end of the serpentine +walk. Heathcote, his straw hat on the ground, was braiding three spears +of grass with elaborate care. + +"You pay rather doubtful compliments," he said. + +"I only mean that it is very kind to come so regularly." + +"You will not let even that remain a chance?" + +"But it is not, is it?" + +"Well, no," he answered, after a short silence, "I can not say that it +is." He dropped the grass blades, leaned back against the rustic seat, +and looked at her. It was a great temptation; he was a finished adept in +the art of flirtation at its highest grade, and enjoyed the pastime. But +he had not really opened that game with this young girl, and he said to +himself that he would not now. He leaned over, found his three spears of +grass, and went on braiding. But although he thus restrained himself, he +still continued to meet her, as Miss Vanhorn, with equal pertinacity, +continued to send her niece to meet him. They were not alone in the +garden, but their conversation was unheard. + +One evening tableaux were given: Isabel, Rachel, and others had been +admired in many varieties of costume and attitude, and Dexter had been +everything from Richard the Lion-hearted to Aladdin. Heathcote had +refused to take part. And now came a tableau in which Anne, as the +Goddess of Liberty, was poised on a barrel mounted on three tables, one +above the other. This airy elevation was considered necessary for the +goddess, and the three tables were occupied by symbolical groups of the +Seasons, the Virtues, and the Nations, all gathered together under the +protection of Liberty on her barrel. Liberty, being in this case a +finely poised young person, kept her position easily, flag in hand, +while the merry groups were arranged on the tables below. When all was +ready, the curtain was raised, lowered, then raised again for a second +view, Anne looking like a goddess indeed (although a very young one), +her white-robed form outlined against a dark background, one arm +extended, her head thrown back, and her eyes fixed upon the outspread +flag. But at the instant the curtain began to rise for this second view, +she had felt the barrel broaden slightly under her, and knew that a hoop +had parted. At the same second came the feeling that her best course was +to stand perfectly motionless, in the hope that the staves would still +support her until she could be assisted down from her isolated height. +For she was fifteen feet above the stage, and there was nothing within +reach which she could grasp. A chill ran over her; she tried not to +breathe. At the same moment, however, when the sensation of falling was +coming upon her, two firm hands were placed upon each side of her waist +from behind, very slightly lifting her, as if to show her that she was +safe even if the support did give way beneath her. It was Heathcote, +standing on the table below. He had been detailed as scene-shifter +(Rachel, being behind the scenes herself, had arranged this), had +noticed the barrel as it moved, and had sprung up unseen behind the +draperied pyramid to assist the goddess. No one saw him. When the +curtain reached the foot-lights again he was assisting all the +allegorical personages to descend from their heights, and first of all +Liberty, who was trembling. No one knew this, however, save himself. +Rachel, gorgeous as Autumn, drew him away almost immediately, and Anne +had no opportunity to thank him until the next afternoon. + +"You do not know how frightful it was for the moment," she said. "I had +never felt dizzy in my life before. I had nothing with which I could +save myself, and I could not jump down on the tables below, because +there was no footing: I should only have thrown down the others. How +quick you were, and how kind! But you are always kind." + +"Few would agree with you there, Miss Douglas. Mr. Dexter has far more +of what is called kindness than I have," said Heathcote, carelessly. + +They were sitting in the same arbor. Anne was silent a moment, as if +pondering. "Yes," she said, thoughtfully, "I believe you are right. You +are kind to a few; he is kind to all. It would be better if you were +more like him." + +"Thanks. But it is too late, I fear, to make a Dexter of me. I have +always been, if not exactly a grief to my friends, still by no means +their pride. Fortunately I have no father or mother to be disturbed by +my lacks; one does not mind being a grief to second cousins." He paused; +then added, in another tone, "But life is lonely enough sometimes." + +Two violet eyes met his as he spoke, gazing at him so earnestly, +sincerely, and almost wistfully that for an instant he lost himself. He +began to speculate as to the best way of retaining that wistful +interest; and then, suddenly, as a dam gives way in the night and lets +out the flood, all his good resolutions crumbled, and his vagrant fancy, +long indulged, asserted its command, and took its own way again. He knew +that he could not approach her to the ordinary degree and in the +ordinary way of flirtation; she would not understand or allow it. With +the intuition which was his most dangerous gift he also knew that there +was a way of another kind. And he used it. + +[Illustration: "SHE STARTED SLIGHTLY."] + +His sudden change of purpose had taken but a moment. "Lonely enough," he +repeated, "and bad enough. Do you think there is any use in trying to +be better?" He spoke as if half in earnest. + +"We must all try," said the girl, gravely. + +"But one needs help." + +"It will be given." + +He rose, walked to the door of the arbor, as if hesitating, then came +back abruptly. "_You_ could help me," he said, standing in front of her, +with his eyes fixed upon her face. + +She started slightly, and turned her eyes away, but did not speak. Nor +did he. At last, as the silence grew oppressive, she said, in a low +voice: "You are mistaken, I think. I can not." + +He sat down again, and began slowly to excavate a hole in the sand with +the end of his cane, to the consternation of a colony of ants who lived +in a thriving village under the opposite bench, but still in dangerous +proximity to the approaching tunnel. + +"I have never pretended to be anything but an idle, useless fellow," he +said, his eyes intent upon his work. "But my life does not satisfy me +always, and at times I am seized by a horrible loneliness. I am not all +bad, I hope. If any one cared enough--but no one has ever cared." + +"You have many friends," said Anne, her eyes fixed upon the hues of the +western sky. + +"As you see them. The people here are examples of my friends." + +"You must have others who are nearer." + +"No, no one. I have never had a home." He looked up as he said this, and +met her eyes, withdrawn for a moment from the sunset; they expressed so +much pity that he felt ashamed of himself. For his entire freedom from +home ties was almost the only thing for which he had felt profoundly +grateful in his idle life. Other boys had been obliged to bend to the +paternal will; other fellows had not been able to wander over the world +and enjoy themselves as he had wandered and enjoyed. But--he could not +help going on now. + +"I pretend to be indifferent, and all that. No doubt I succeed in +appearing so--that is, to the outside world. But there come moments +when I would give anything for some firm belief to anchor myself to, +something higher and better than I am." (The tunnel was very near the +ants now.) "I believe, Miss Douglas, I can not help believing, that +_you_ could tell me what that is." + +"Oh no; I am very ignorant," said Anne, hurriedly, returning to the +sunset with heightened color. + +"But you believe. I will never make a spectacle of myself; I will never +ask the conventional questions of conventional good people, whom I hate. +_You_ might influence me--But what right have I to ask you, Anne? Why +should I think that you would care?" + +"I do care," said the low voice, after a moment, as if forced to answer. + +"Then help me." + +"How can I help you?" + +"Tell me what you believe. And make me believe it also." + +"Surely, Mr. Heathcote, you believe in God?" + +"I am not sure that I do." + +She clasped her hands in distress. "How _can_ you live!" she cried, +almost in tears. + +Again Heathcote felt a touch of compunction. But he could not make +himself stop now; he was too sincerely interested. + +"There is no use; I can not argue," Anne was saying. "If you do not +_feel_ God, I can not make you believe in him." + +"Tell me how _you_ feel; perhaps I can learn from you." + +Poor Anne! she did not know how she felt, and had no words ready. +Undeveloped, unused to analysis, she was asked to unfold her inmost soul +in the broad garish light of day. + +"I--I can not," she murmured, in deep trouble. + +"Never mind, then," said Heathcote, with an excellent little assumption +of disappointment masked by affected carelessness. "Forget what I have +said; it is of small consequence at best. Shall we go back to the house, +Miss Douglas?" + +But Anne was struggling with herself, making a desperate effort to +conquer what seemed to her a selfish and unworthy timidity. "I will do +anything I can," she said, hurriedly, in a low voice. + +They had both risen. "Let me see you to-morrow, then." + +"Yes." + +"It is a beginning," he said. He offered his arm gravely, almost +reverently, and in silence they returned to the house. It seemed to Anne +that many long minutes passed as they walked through the garden, brushed +by the roses on each side: in reality the minutes were three. + +For that evening meteors had been appointed by the astronomers and the +newspapers. They were, when they came, few and faint; but they afforded +a pretext for being out on the hill. Anne was there with Mr. Dexter, and +other star-gazers were near. Heathcote and Rachel, however, were not +visible, and this disturbed Dexter. In spite of himself, he could never +be quite content unless he knew where that dark-eyed woman was. But his +inward annoyance did not affect either his memory or the fine tones of +his voice. No one on the hill that night quoted so well or so aptly +grand star-like sentences, or verses appropriate to the occasion. + +"When standing alone on a hill-top during a clear night such as this, +Miss Douglas," he said, "the roll of the earth eastward is almost a +palpable movement. The sensation may be caused by the panoramic glide of +the stars past earthly objects, or by the wind, or by the solitude; but +whatever be its origin, the impression of riding along is vivid and +abiding. We are now watching our own stately progress through the +stars." + +"Hear Dexter quote," said Heathcote, in his lowest under-tone, to +Rachel. They were near the others, but, instead of standing, were +sitting on the grass, with a large bush for background; in its shadow +their figures were concealed, and the rustle of its leaves drowned their +whispers. + +"Hush! I like Mr. Dexter," said Rachel. + +"I know you do. You will marry that man some day." + +"Do _you_ say that, Ward?" + +An hour later, Anne, in her own room, was timidly adding the same name +to her own petitions before she slept. + +The next day, and the next, they met in the garden at sunset as before, +and each time when they parted she was flushed and excited by the effort +she was making, and he was calm and content. On the third afternoon they +did not meet, for there was another picnic. But as the sun sank below +the horizon, and the rich colors rose in the sky, Heathcote turned, and, +across all the merry throng, looked at her as if in remembrance. After +that he did not see her alone for several days: chance obstacles stood +in the way, and he never forced anything. Then there was another +unmolested hour in the arbor; then another. Anne was now deeply +interested. How could she help being so, when the education of a soul +was placed in her hands? And Heathcote began to be fascinated too. + +By his own conversion? + +August was nearly over. The nights were cool, and the early mornings +veiled in mist. The city idlers awakened reluctantly to the realization +that summer was drawing to its close; and there was the same old +surprise over the dampness of the yellow moonlight, the dull look of the +forest; the same old discovery that the golden-rods and asters were +becoming prominent in the departure of the more delicate blossoms. The +last four days of that August Anne remembered all her life. + +On the 28th there occurred, by unexpected self-arrangement of small +events, a long conversation of three hours with Heathcote. + +On the 29th he quarrelled with her, and hotly, leaving her overwhelmed +with grief and surprise. + +On the 30th he came back to her. They had but three minutes together on +the piazza, and then Mr. Dexter joined them. But in those minutes he had +asked forgiveness, and seemed also to yield all at once the points over +which heretofore he had been immovable. + +On the 31st Helen came. + +It was late. Anne had gone to her room. She had not seen Heathcote that +day. She had extinguished the candle, and was looking at the brassy moon +slowly rising above the trees, when a light tap sounded on her door. + +"Who is it?" she said. + +"Helen, of course," answered a sweet voice she knew. She drew back the +bolt swiftly, and Mrs. Lorrington came in, dressed in travelling attire. +She had just arrived. She kissed Anne, saying, gayly: "Are you not glad +to see me? Grandfather has again recovered, and dismissed me. I spend my +life on the road. Are you well, Crystal? And how do you like Caryl's? +No, do not light the candle; I can see you in the moonlight, all draped +in white. I shall stay half an hour--no longer. My maid is waiting, and +I must not lose my beauty-sleep. But I wanted to see you first of all. +Tell me about yourself, and everything. Did you put down what happened +in a note-book, as I asked you?" + +"Yes; here it is. But the record is brief--only names and dates. How +glad I am to see you, Helen! How very, very glad! It seemed as if you +would never come." She took Helen's hands, and held them as she spoke. +She was very deeply attached to her brilliant friend. + +Helen laughed, kissed her again, and began asking questions. She was +full of plans. "Heretofore they have not staid at Caryl's in the +autumn," she said, "but this year I shall make them. September and part +of October would be pleasant here, I know. Has any one spoken of going?" + +"Mrs. Bannert has, I think." + +"You mean my dearest friend Rachel. But she will stay now that _I_ have +come; that is, if I succeed in keeping--somebody else. The Bishop has +been devoted to her, of course, and likewise the Tenor; the Haunted Man +and others skirmish on her borders. Even the Knight-errant is not, I am +sorry to say, above suspicion. Who has it especially been?" + +"I do not know; every one seems to admire her. I think she has not +favored one more than another." + +"Oh, has she not?" said Mrs. Lorrington, laughing. "It is well I have +come, Crystal. You are too innocent to live." She tapped her cheek as +she spoke, and then turned her face to the moonlight. "And whom do you +like best?" she said. "Mr. Dexter?" + +"Yes," said Anne; "I like him sincerely. And you will find his name very +often there," she added, looking at the note-book by Helen's side. + +"Yes, but the others too, I hope. What _I_ want to know, of course, is +the wicked career of the Knight-errant." + +"But is not Mr. Dexter the Knight-errant?" + +"By no means. Mr. Dexter is the Bishop; have you not discovered that? +The Knight-errant is very decidedly some one else. And, by-the-way, how +do you like Some One Else--that is, Mr. Heathcote?" + +"Mr. Heathcote!" + +"It is not polite to repeat one's words, Crystal. But--I suppose you do +_not_ like him; and half the time, I confess, he is detestable. However, +now that I have come, he shall behave better, and I shall make you like +each other, for my sake. There is just one question I wish to ask here: +has he been much with Rachel?" + +"No--yes--yes, I suppose he has," murmured Anne, sitting still as a +statue in the shadow. The brassy moon had gone slowly and coldly behind +a cloud, and the room was dim. + +"You suppose? Do you not know?" + +"Yes, I know he has." She stopped abruptly. She had never before thought +whether Heathcote was or was not with Rachel more than with others; but +now she began to recall. "Yes, he _has_ been with her," she said again, +struck by a sudden pang. + +"Very well; I shall see to it, now that I am here," said Helen, with a +sharp tone in her voice. "He will perhaps be sorry that I have arrived +just at the end of the season--the time for grand climaxes, you know; +but he will have to yield. My half-hour is over; I must go. How is the +Grand Llama? Endurable?" + +"She is helping the children; I am grateful to her," replied Anne's +voice, mechanically. + +"Which means that she is worse than ever. What a dead-alive voice you +said it in! Now that I am here, I will do battle for you, Crystal, never +fear. I must go. You shall see my triumphal entrance to-morrow at +breakfast. Our rooms are not far from yours. Good-night." + +She was gone. The door was closed. Anne was alone. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + "You who keep account + Of crisis and transition in this life, + Set down the first time Nature says plain 'no' + To some 'yes' in you, and walks over you + In gorgeous sweeps of scorn. We all begin + By singing with the birds, and running fast + With June days hand in hand; but, once for all, + The birds must sing against us, and the sun + Strike down upon us like a friend's sword, caught + By an enemy to slay us, while we read + The dear name on the blade which bites at us." + + --ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. + + +It is easy for the young to be happy before the deep feelings of the +heart have been stirred. It is easy to be good when there has been no +strong temptation to be evil; easy to be unselfish when nothing is +ardently craved; easy to be faithful when faithfulness does not tear the +soul out of its abiding-place. Some persons pass through all of life +without strong temptations; not having deep feelings, they are likewise +exempt from deep sins. These pass for saints. But when one thinks of the +cause of their faultlessness, one understands perhaps better the meaning +of those words, otherwise mysterious, that "joy shall be in heaven over +one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just persons, +which need no repentance." + +Anne went through that night her first real torture; heretofore she had +felt only grief--a very different pain. + +Being a woman, her first feeling, even before the consciousness of what +it meant, was jealousy. What did Helen mean by speaking of him as though +he belonged to her? She had never spoken in that way before. Although +she--Anne--had mistaken the fictitious titles, still, even under the +title, there had been no such open appropriation of the Knight-errant. +What did she mean? And then into this burning jealous anger came the +low-voiced question, asked somewhere down in the depths of her being, as +though a judge was speaking, "What--is--it--to--you?" And again, "What +is it to you?" She buried her face tremblingly in her hands, for all at +once she realized what it was, what it had been, unconsciously perhaps, +but for a long time really, to her. + +She made no attempt at self-deception. Her strongest trait from +childhood had been her sincerity, and now it would not let her go. She +had begun to love Ward Heathcote unconsciously, but now she loved him +consciously. That was the bare fact. It confronted her, it loomed above +her, a dark menacing shape, from whose presence she could not flee. She +shivered, and her breath seemed to stop during the slow moment while the +truth made itself known to her. "O God!" she murmured, bursting into +tears; and there was no irreverence in the cry. She recognized the +faithlessness which had taken possession of her--unawares, it is true, +yet loyal hearts are not conquered so. She had been living in a dream, +and had suddenly found the dream reality, and the actors flesh and +blood--one of them at least, a poor wildly loving girl, with the mark of +Judas upon her brow. She tried to pray, but could think of no words. For +she was false to Rast, she loved Heathcote, and hated Helen, yet could +not bring herself to ask that any of these feelings should be otherwise. +This was so new to her that she sank down upon the floor in utter +despair and self-abasement. She was bound to Rast; she was bound to +Helen. Yet she had, in her heart at least, betrayed them both. + +Still, so complex is human nature that even here in the midst of her +abasement the question stole in, whispering its way along as it came, +"_Does_ he care for me?" And "he" was not Rast. She forgot all else to +weigh every word and look of the weeks and days that had passed. Slowly +she lived over in memory all their conversations, not forgetting the +most trivial, and even raised her arm to get a pillow in order that she +might lie more easily; but the little action brought reality again, and +her arm fell, while part of her consciousness drew off, and sat in +judgment upon the other part. The sentence was scathing. + +[Illustration: "SHE BURIED HER FACE TREMBLINGLY IN HER HANDS."] + +Then jealousy seized her again. She had admired Helen so warmly as a +woman, that even now she could not escape the feeling. She went over in +quick, hot review all that the sweet voice and delicate lips had ever +said concerning the person veiled under the name of Knight-errant, and +the result was a miserable conviction that she had been mistaken; that +there was a tie of some kind--slight, perhaps, yet still a tie. And +then, as she crushed her hands together in impotent anger, she again +realized what she was thinking, and began to sob in her grief like a +child. Poor Anne! she would never be a child again. Never again would be +hers that proud dauntless confidence of the untried, which makes all +life seem easy and secure. And here suddenly into her grief darted this +new and withering thought: Had Heathcote perceived her feeling for him? +and had he been playing upon it to amuse himself? + +Anne knew vaguely that people treated her as though she was hardly more +than a child. She was conscious of it, but did not dispute it, accepting +it humbly as something--some fault in herself--which she could not +change. But now the sleeping woman was aroused at last, and she blushed +deeply in the darkness at the thought that while she had remained +unconscious, this man of the world had perhaps detected the truth +immediately, and had acted as he had in consequence of it. This was the +deepest sting of all, and again hurriedly she went over all their +conversations a second time; and imagined that she found indications of +what she feared. She rose to her feet with the nervous idea of fleeing +somewhere, she did not know where. + +The night had passed. The sun had not yet risen, but the eastern sky was +waiting for his coming with all its banners aflame. Standing by the +window, she watched the first gold rim appear. The small birds were +twittering in the near trees, the earth was awaking to another day, and +for the first time Anne realized the joy of that part of creation which +knows not sorrow or care; for the first time wished herself a flower of +the field, or a sweet-voiced bird singing his happy morning anthem on a +spray. There were three hours yet before breakfast, two before any one +would be stirring. She dressed herself, stole through the hall and down +the stairs, unbolted the side door, and went into the garden; she longed +for the freshness of the morning air. Her steps led her toward the +arbor; she stopped, and turned in another direction--toward the bank of +the little river. Here she began to walk to and fro from a pile of +drift-wood to a bush covered with dew-drops, from the bush back to the +drift-wood again. Her feet were wet, her head ached dully, but she kept +her mind down to the purpose before her. The nightmare of the darkness +was gone; she now faced her grief, and knew what it was, and had decided +upon her course. This course was to leave Caryl's. She hoped to return +to Mademoiselle at the half-house, and remain there until the school +opened--if her grandaunt was willing. If her grandaunt was +willing--there came the difficulty. Yet why should she not be willing? +The season was over; the summer flowers were gone; it was but +anticipating departure by a week or two. Thus she reasoned with herself, +yet felt all the time by intuition that Miss Vanhorn would refuse her +consent. And if she should so refuse, what then? It could make no +difference in the necessity for going, but it would make the going hard. +She was considering this point when she heard a footstep. She looked up, +and saw--Ward Heathcote. She had been there some time; it was now seven +o'clock. They both heard the old clock in the office strike as they +stood there looking at each other. In half an hour the early risers +would be coming into the garden. + +Anne did not move or speak; the great effort she had made to retain her +composure, when she saw him, kept her motionless and dumb. Her first +darting thought had been to show him that she was at ease and +indifferent. But this required words, and she had not one ready; she was +afraid to speak, too, lest her voice should tremble. She saw, standing +there before her, the man who had made her forget Rast, who had made her +jealous of Helen, who had played with her holiest feelings, who had +deceived and laughed at her, the man whom she--hated? No, no--whom she +loved, loved, loved: this was the desperate ending. She turned very +white, standing motionless beside the dew-spangled bush. + +And Heathcote saw, standing there before him, a young girl with her fair +face strangely pale and worn, her eyes fixed, her lips compressed; she +was trembling slightly and constantly, in spite of the rigidity of her +attitude. + +He looked at her in silence for a moment; then, knocking down at one +blow all the barriers she had erected, he came to her and took her cold +hands in his. "What is it she has said to you?" he asked. + +She drew herself away without speaking. + +"What has Helen said to you? Has she told you that I have deceived you? +That I have played a part?" + +But Anne did not answer; she turned, as if to pass him. + +"You shall not leave me," he said, barring the way. "Stay a moment, +Anne; I promise not to keep you long. You will not? But you shall. Am +_I_ nothing in all this? My feelings nothing? Let me tell you one thing: +whatever Helen may have said, remember that it was all before I +knew--_you_." + +Anne's hands shook in his as he said this. "Let me go," she cried, with +low, quick utterance; she dared not say more, lest her voice should +break into sobs. + +"I will not," said Heathcote, "until you hear me while I tell you that I +have _not_ played a false part with you, Anne. I did begin it as an +experiment, I confess that I did; but I have ended by being in +earnest--at least to a certain degree. Helen does not know me entirely; +one side of me she has never even suspected." + +"Mrs. Lorrington has not spoken on the subject," murmured Anne, feeling +compelled to set him right, but not looking up. + +"Then what _has_ she said about me, that you should look as you do, my +poor child?" + +"You take too much upon yourself," replied the girl, with an effort to +speak scornfully. "Why should you suppose we have talked of you?" + +"I do not suppose it; I know it. I have not the heart to laugh at you, +Anne: your white face hurts me like a sharp pain. Will you at least tell +me that you do not believe I have been amusing myself at your +expense--that you do not believe I have been insincere?" + +"I am glad to think that you were not wholly insincere." + +"And you will believe also that I like you--like you very, very much, +with more than the ordinary liking?" + +"That is nothing to me." + +"Nothing to you? Look at me, Anne; you shall look once. Ah, my dear +child, do you not see that I can not help loving you? And that you--love +me also?" As he spoke he drew her close and looked down into her eyes, +those startled violet eyes, that met his at last--for one half-moment. + +Then she sprang from him, and burst into tears. "Leave me," she said, +brokenly. "You are cruel." + +"No; only human," answered Heathcote, not quite master of his words now. +"I have had your confession in that look, Anne, and you shall never +regret it." + +"I regret it already," she cried, passionately; "I shall regret it all +my life. Do you not comprehend? can you not understand? I am +engaged--engaged to be married. I was engaged before we ever met." + +"_You_ engaged, when I thought you hardly more than a child!" He had +been dwelling only upon himself and his own course; possibilities on the +other side had not occurred to him. They seldom do to much-admired men. + +"I can not help what you thought me," replied Anne. At this moment they +heard a step on the piazza; some one had come forth to try the morning +air. Where they stood they were concealed, but from the garden walk they +would be plainly visible. + +"Leave me," she said, hurriedly. + +"I will; I will cross the field, and approach the house by the road, so +that you will be quite safe. But I shall see you again, Anne." He bent +his head, and touched her hand with his lips, then sprang over the stone +wall, and was gone, crossing the fields toward the distant turnpike. + +Anne returned to the house, exchanging greetings as she passed with the +well-preserved jaunty old gentleman who was walking up and down the +piazza twenty-five times before breakfast. She sought her own room, +dressed herself anew, and then tapped at her grandaunt's door; the +routine of the day had her in its iron grasp, and she was obliged to +follow its law. + +Mrs. Lorrington came in to breakfast like a queen: it was a royal +progress. Miss Teller walked behind in amiable majesty, and gathered up +the overflow; that is, she shook hands cordially with those who could +not reach Helen, and smiled especially upon those whom Helen disliked. +Helen was robed in a soft white woollen material that clung closely +about her; she had never seemed more slender. Her pale hair, wound round +her small head, conveyed the idea that, unbound, it would fall to the +hem of her dress. She wore no ornaments, not even a ring on her small +fair hands. Her place was at some distance from Miss Vanhorn's table, +but as soon as she was seated she bowed to Anne, and smiled with marked +friendliness. Anne returned the salutation, and wondered that people did +not cry out and ask her if she was dying. But life does not go out so +easily as miserable young girls imagine. + +"Eggs?" said the waiter. + +She took one. + +"I thought you did not like eggs," said Miss Vanhorn. She was in an +ill-humor that morning because Bessmer had upset the plant-drying +apparatus, composed of bricks and boards. + +"Yes, thanks," said Anne, vaguely. Mr. Dexter was bowing good-morning to +her at that moment, and she returned the salutation. Miss Vanhorn, +observing this, withheld her intended rebuke for inattention. Dexter had +bowed on his way across to Helen; he had finished his own breakfast, and +now took a seat beside Miss Teller and Mrs. Lorrington. At this instant +a servant entered bearing a basket of flowers, not the old-fashioned +country flowers of Caryl's, but the superb cream-colored roses of the +city, each on its long stalk, reposing on a bed of unmixed heliotrope, +Helen's favorite flower. All eyes coveted the roses as they passed, and +watched to see their destination. They were presented to Mrs. +Lorrington. + +Every one supposed that Dexter was the giver. The rich gift was like +him, and perhaps also the time of its presentation. But the time was a +mistake of the servant's; and was not Mrs. Lorrington bowing her +thanks?--yes, she was bowing her thanks, with a little air of +consciousness, yet with openness also, to Mr. Heathcote, who sat by +himself at the end of the long room. He bowed gravely in return, thus +acknowledging himself the sender. + +"Well," said Miss Vanhorn, crossly, yet with a little shade of relief +too in her voice, "of all systematic coquettes, Helen Lorrington is our +worst. I suppose that we shall have no peace, now that she has come. +However, it will not last long." + +"You will go away soon, then, grandaunt?" said Anne, eagerly. + +Miss Vanhorn put up her eyeglass; the tone had betrayed something. "No," +she said, inspecting her niece coolly; "nothing of the sort. I shall +remain through September, perhaps later." + +Anne's heart sank. She would be obliged, then, to go through the ordeal. +She could eat nothing; a choking sensation had risen in her throat when +Heathcote bowed to Helen, acknowledging the flowers. "May I go, +grandaunt?" she said. "I do not feel well this morning." + +"No; finish your breakfast like a Christian. I hate sensations. However, +on second thoughts, you _may_ go," added the old woman, glancing at +Dexter and Helen. "You may as well be re-arranging those specimens that +Bessmer stupidly knocked down. But do not let me find the Lorrington in +my parlor when I come up; do you hear?" + +"Yes," said Anne, escaping. She ran up stairs to her own room, locked +the door, and then stood pressing her hands upon her heart, crying out +in a whisper: "Oh, what shall I do! What shall I do! How can I bear it!" +But she could not have even that moment unmolested: the day had begun, +and its burdens she must bear. Bessmer knocked, and began at once +tremulously about the injured plants through the closed door. + +"Yes," said Anne, opening it, "I know about them. I came up to +re-arrange them." + +"It wouldenter been so bad, miss, if it hadenter been asters. But I +never could make out asters; they all seem of a piece to me," said +Bessmer, while Anne sorted the specimens, and replaced them within the +drying-sheets. "Every fall there's the same time with 'em. I just dread +asters, I do; not but what golden-rods is almost worse." + +"Anne," said a voice in the hall. + +Anne opened the door; it was Helen, with her roses. + +"These are the Grand Llama's apartments, I suppose," she said, peeping +in. "I will not enter; merely gaze over the sacred threshold. Come to my +room, Crystal, for half an hour; I am going to drive at eleven." + +"I must finish arranging these plants." + +"Then come when you have finished. Do not fail; I shall wait for you." +And the white robe floated off down the dark sidling hall, as Miss +Vanhorn's heavy foot made itself heard ascending the stairs. When +Bessmer had gone to her breakfast, to collect what strength she could +for another aster-day, Anne summoned her courage. + +"Grandaunt, I would like to speak to you," she said. + +"And I do not want to be spoken to; I have neuralgia in my cheek-bones." + +"But I would like to tell you--" + +"And I do not want to be told. You are always getting up sensations of +one kind or another, which amount to nothing in the end. Be ready to +drive to Updegraff's glen at eleven; that is all I have to say to you +now." She went into the inner room, and closed the door. + +"It does not make any difference," thought Anne, drearily; "I shall tell +her at eleven." + +Then, nerving herself for another kind of ordeal, she went slowly toward +Helen's apartments. + +But conventionality is a strong power: she passed the first fifteen +minutes of conversation without faltering. + +Then Helen said: "You look pale, Crystal. What is the matter?" + +"I did not sleep well." + +"And there is some trouble besides! I see by the note-book that you have +been with the Bishop almost constantly; confess that you like him!" + +"Yes, I like him." + +"Very much?" + +"Yes." + +"_Very_ much?" + +"You know, Helen, that I am engaged." + +"That! for your engagement," said Mrs. Lorrington, taking a rose and +tossing it toward her. "I know you are engaged. But I thought that if +the Bishop would only get into one of his dead-earnest moods--he is +capable of it--you would have to yield. For you are capable of it too." + +"Capable of what? Breaking a promise?" + +"Do not be disagreeable; I am complimenting you. No; I mean capable of +loving--really loving." + +"All women can love, can they not?" + +"Themselves! Yes. But rarely any one else. And now let me tell you +something delightful--one of those irrelevant little inconsistencies +which make society amusing: _I_ am going to drive with the Bishop this +morning, and not you at all." + +"I hope you will enjoy the drive." + +"You take it well," said Mrs. Lorrington, laughing merrily. "But I will +not tease you, Crystal. Only tell me one thing--you are always truthful. +Has anything been said to you--anything that really _means_ +anything--since you have been here?" + +"By whom?" said Anne, almost in a whisper. + +"The Bishop, of course. Who else should it be?" + +"Oh, no, no," answered the girl, rising hurriedly, as if uncertain what +to do. "Why do you speak to me so constantly of Mr. Dexter? I have been +with--with others too." + +"You have been with him more than with the 'others' you mention," said +Helen, mimicking her tone. "The note-book tells that. However, I will +say no more; merely observe. You are looking at my driving costume; +jealous already? But I tell you frankly, Crystal, that regarding dress +you must yield to me. With millions you could not rival me; on that +ground I am alone. Rachel looked positively black with envy when she saw +me this morning; she is ugly in a second, you know, if she loses that +soft Oriental expression which makes you think of the Nile. Imagine +Rachel in a Greek robe like this, loosely made, with a girdle! I shall +certainly look well this morning; but never fear, it shall be for your +sake. I shall talk of you, and make you doubly interesting by what I do +and do not say; I shall give thrilling glimpses only." + +The maid entered, and Anne sat through the change of dress and the +rebraiding of the pale soft hair. + +"I do not forbid your peeping through the hall window to see us start," +said Mrs. Lorrington, gayly, as she drew on her gloves. "Good-by." + +Anne went to her own room. "Are they all mad?" she thought. "Or am I? +Why do they all speak of Mr. Dexter so constantly, and not of--" + +"You are late," said Miss Vanhorn's voice. "I told you not to keep me +waiting. Get your hat and gloves, and come immediately; the carriage is +there." + +But it was not as strange in reality as it seemed to Anne that Helen, +Miss Vanhorn, and others spoke of Mr. Dexter in connection with herself. +Absorbed in a deeper current, she had forgotten that others judge by the +surface, and that Mr. Dexter had been with her openly, and even +conspicuously, during a portion of every day for several weeks. To her +the two hours or three with him had been but so many portions of time +before she could see, or after she had seen, Heathcote. But time is not +divided as young people suppose; she forgot that ordinary eyes can not +see the invisible weights which make ten minutes--nay, five--with one +person outbalance a whole day with another. In the brief diary which she +had kept for Helen, Dexter's name occurred far more frequently than +Heathcote's, and Helen had judged from that. Others did the same, with +their eyes. If old Katharine had so far honored her niece as to question +her, she might have learned something more; but she did not question, +she relied upon her own sagacity. It is a dispensation of Providence +that the old, no matter how crowded their own youth may have been, +always forget. What old Katharine now forgot was this: if a man like +Gregory Dexter is conspicuously devoted to one woman, but always in the +presence of others, making no attempt to secure her attention for a few +moments alone here and there, it is probable that there is another woman +for whom he keeps those moments, and a hidden feeling stronger than the +one openly displayed. Rachel never allowed observable devotion. This, +however, did not forbid the unobserved. + +"Grandaunt," began Anne, as the carriage rolled along the country road. +Her voice faltered a little, and she paused to steady it. + +"Wait a day," said Miss Vanhorn, with grim sarcasm; "then there will be +nothing to tell. It is always so with girls." + +It was her nearest approach to good-humor: Anne took courage. "The +summer is nearly over, grandaunt--" + +"I have an almanac." + +"--and, as school will soon begin--" + +"In about three weeks." + +"--I should like to go back to Mademoiselle until then, if you do not +object." + +Miss Vanhorn put up her eyeglass, and looked at her niece; then she +laughed, sought for a caraway-seed, and by good luck found one, and +deposited it safely in the tight grasp of her glittering teeth. She +thought Anne was jealous of Mr. Dexter's attentions to Helen. + +"You need not be afraid, child," she said, still laughing. "If you have +a rival, it is the Egyptian, and not that long white creature you call +your friend." + +"I am unhappy here, grandaunt. Please let me go." + +"Girls are always unhappy, or thinking themselves so. It is one of their +habits. Of course you can not go; it would be too ridiculous giving way +to any such childish feeling. You will stay as long as I stay." + +"But I can not. I _must_ go." + +"And who holds the authority, pray?" + +"Dear grandaunt, do not compel me," said Anne, seizing the old woman's +hands in hers. But Miss Vanhorn drew them away angrily. + +"What nonsense!" she said. "Do not let me hear another word. You will +stay according to my pleasure (which should be yours also), or you +forfeit your second winter at Moreau's and the children's allowance." +She tapped on the glass, and signaled to the coachman to drive homeward. +"You have spoiled the drive with your obstinacy; I do not care to go +now. Spend the day in your own room. At five o'clock come to me." + +And at five Anne came. + +"Have you found your senses?" asked the elder woman, and more gently. + +"I have not changed my mind." + +Miss Vanhorn rose and locked the door. "You will now give me your +reasons," she said. + +"I can not." + +"You mean that you will not." + +Anne was silent, and Miss Vanhorn surveyed her for a moment before +letting loose the dogs of war. In her trouble the girl looked much +older; it was a grave, sad, but determined woman who was standing there +to receive her sentence, and suddenly the inquisitor changed her course. + +"There, there," she said; "never mind about it now. Go back to your +room; Bessmer shall bring you some tea, and then you will let her dress +you precisely as I shall order. You will not, I trust, disobey me in so +small a matter as that?" + +"And may I go to-morrow?" + +"We will see. You can not go to-night, at any rate; so do as I bid you." + +Anne obeyed; but she was disappointed that all was not ended and the +contest over. For the young, to wait seems harder than to suffer. + +Miss Vanhorn thought that her niece was jealous of Helen in regard to +Dexter, and that this jealousy had opened her eyes for the first time to +her own faithlessness; being conscientious, of course she was, between +the two feelings, made very wretched. And the old woman's solution of +the difficulty was to give Dexter one more and perfect opportunity, if +she, Katharine Vanhorn, could arrange it. And there was, in truth, very +little that old Katharine could not arrange if she chose, since she was +a woman not afraid to use on occasion that which in society is the +equivalent of force, namely, directness. She was capable of saying, +openly, "Mr. Dexter, will you take Anne out on the piazza for a while? +The air is close here," and then of smiling back upon Rachel, Isabel, or +whoever was left behind, with the malice of a Mazarin. Chance favored +old Katharine that night once and again. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + "That which is not allotted, the hand can not reach, and what is + allotted will find you wherever you may be. You have heard with + what toil Secunder penetrated to the land of darkness, and that, + after all, he did not taste the water of immortality."--SAADI. + + "When a woman hath ceased to be quite the same to us, it matters + little how different she becomes."--WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR. + + +The last dance of the season had been appointed for the evening, and +Mrs. Lorrington's arrival had stimulated the others to ordain "full +dress"; they all had one costume in reserve, and it was an occasion to +bring all the banners upon the field, and the lance also, in a last +tournament. Other contests, other rivalries, had existed, other stories +besides this story of Anne; it never happens in real life that one woman +usurps everything. That this dance should occur on this particular +evening was one of the chances vouchsafed to old Katharine and her +strategy. + +For the fairest costume ordered for Anne had not been worn, and at ten +o'clock Bessmer with delight was asking a white-robed figure to look at +itself in the glass, while on her knees she spread out the cloud of +fleecy drapery that trailed softly over the floor behind. The robe was +of white lace, and simple. But nothing could have brought out so +strongly the rich, noble beauty of this young face and form. There was +not an ornament to break the outline of the round white throat, or the +beautiful arms, bared from the shoulder. For the first time the thick +brown hair was released from its school-girl simplicity, and Anne's face +wore a new aspect, as young faces will under such changes. For one may +be sorrowful, and even despairing, yet at eighteen a few waving locks +will make a fair face fairer than ever, even in spite of one's own +determined opposition. + +When they entered the ball-room, the second chance vouchsafed to old +Katharine came to meet them, and no strategy was necessary. For Mr. +Dexter, with an unwonted color on his face, offered his arm to Anne +immediately, asking for that dance, and "as many dances besides as you +can give me, Miss Douglas." + +All who were near heard his words; among them Rachel. She looked at him +with soft deprecation in her eyes. But he returned her gaze directly and +haughtily, and bore Anne away. They danced once, and then went out on +the piazza. It was a cool evening, and presently Miss Vanhorn came to +the window. "It is too damp for you here, child," she said. "If you do +not care to dance, take Mr. Dexter up to see the flowers in our parlor; +and when you come down, bring my shawl." + +"Mr. Dexter does not care about flowers, I think," answered Anne, too +absorbed in her own troubles to be concerned about her grandaunt's open +manoeuvre. She spoke mechanically. + +"On the contrary, I am very fond of flowers," said Dexter, rising +immediately. "And I particularly thank you, Miss Vanhorn, for giving me +this opportunity to--admire them." He spoke with emphasis, and bowed as +he spoke. The old lady gave him a stately inclination in return. They +understood each other; the higher powers were agreed. + +When Anne, still self-absorbed and unconscious, entered the little +parlor, she was surprised to find it brightly lighted and prepared, as +if for their reception. The red curtains were closed, a small fire +crackled on the hearth, the rich perfume of the flowers filled the warm +air; in the damp September evening the room was a picture of comfort, +and in the ruddy light her own figure, in its white lace dress, was +clearly outlined and radiant. "Here are the flowers," she said, going +toward the table. Dexter had closed the door; he now came forward, and +looked at the blossoms a moment absently. Then he turned toward the +sofa, which was covered with the same red chintz which hung over the +windows to the floor. + +"Shall we sit here awhile? The room is pleasant, if you are in no hurry +to return." + +"No, I am in no hurry," replied Anne. She was glad to be quiet and away +from the dancers; she feared to meet Heathcote. Mr. Dexter always +talked; she would not be obliged to think of new subjects, or to make +long replies. + +But to-night Mr. Dexter was unusually silent. She leaned back against +the red cushions, and looked at the point of her slipper; she was asking +herself how long this evening would last. + +"Miss Douglas," began Dexter at length, and somewhat abruptly, "I do not +know in what light you regard me, or what degree of estimation you have +conferred upon me; but--" Here he paused. + +"It is of no consequence," said Anne. + +"What?" + +"I mean," she said, rousing herself from her abstraction, "that it does +not matter one way or the other. I am going away to-morrow, Mr. Dexter. +I see now that I ought never to have come. But--how could I know?" + +"Why do you go?" said her companion, pausing a moment also, in his own +train of thought. + +"I have duties elsewhere," she began; then stopped. "But that is not the +real reason," she added. + +"You are unhappy, Miss Douglas; I can always read your face. I will not +obtrude questions now, although most desirous to lift the burdens which +are resting upon you. For I have something to ask you. Will you listen +to me for a few moments?" + +"Oh yes," said Anne, falling back into apathy, her eyes still on the +point of her slipper. + +"It is considered egotistical to talk of one's self," began Dexter, +after a short silence; "but, under the circumstances, I trust I may be +pardoned." He took an easier attitude, and folded his arms. "I was born +in New Hampshire." (Here Anne tried to pay attention; from this +beginning, she felt that she must attend. But she only succeeded in +repeating, vaguely, the word "New Hampshire?" as though she had reasons +for thinking it might be Maine.) + +"Yes, New Hampshire. My father was a farmer there; but when I was five +years old he died, and my mother died during the following year. A rich +relative, a cousin, living in Illinois, befriended me, homeless as I +was, and gave me that best gift in America, a good education. I went +through college, and then--found myself penniless. My cousin had died +without a will, and others had inherited his estate. Since then, Miss +Douglas, I have led a life of effort, hard, hard work, and bitter +fluctuations. I have taught school; I have dug in the mines; I have +driven a stage; I have been lost in the desert, and have lived for days +upon moss and berries. Once I had a hundred thousand dollars--the result +of intensest labor and vigilance through ten long years--and I lost it +in an hour. Then for three days, shovel in hand, I worked on an +embankment. I tell you all this plainly, so that if it, or any part of +it, ever comes up, you will not feel that you have been deceived. The +leading power of my whole life has been action; whether for good or for +ill--action. I am now thirty-eight years old, and I think I may say that +I--am no worse than other men. The struggle is now over; I am rich. I +will even tell you the amount of my fortune--" + +"Oh no," said Anne, hurriedly. + +"I prefer to do so," replied Dexter, with a formal gesture. "I wish you +to understand clearly the whole position, both as regards myself and all +my affairs." + +"Myself and all my affairs," repeated itself buzzingly in Anne's brain. + +"My property is now estimated at a little more than a million, and +without doubt it will increase in value, as it consists largely of land, +and especially mines." + +He paused. He was conscious that he had not succeeded in controlling a +certain pride in the tone of his voice, and he stopped to remedy it. In +truth, he _was_ proud. No one but the man who has struggled and labored +for that sum, unaided and alone, knows how hard it is to win it, and how +rare and splendid has been his own success. He has seen others go down +on all sides of him like grain before the scythe, while he stood +upright. He knows of disappointed hopes, of bitter effort ended in the +grave; of men, strong and fearless as himself, who have striven +desperately, and as desperately failed. He was silent for a moment, +thinking of these things. + +"It must be pleasant to have so much money," said Anne, sighing a +little, and turning her slipper point slightly, as though to survey it +in profile. + +Dexter went on with his tale. He was as much for the moment absorbed in +himself as she was in herself; they were like two persons shut up in +closely walled towers side by side. + +"For some years I have lived at the East, and have been much in what is +called society in New York and Washington," he continued, "and I have +had no cause to be dissatisfied with the reception accorded to me. I +have seen many beautiful faces, and they have not entirely withheld +their kindness from me. But--Miss Douglas, young girls like romance, and +I have, unfortunately, little that I can express, although I believe +that I have at heart more true chivalry toward women than twenty of the +idle _blasé_ men about here. But that had been better left unsaid. What +I wish to say to you is this: will you be my wife? Anne, dear child, +will you marry me?" He had ended abruptly, and even to himself +unexpectedly, as though his usually fluent speech had failed him. He +took her hand, and waited for her answer, his face showing signs of +emotion, which seemed to be more his own than roused by anything in her. + +Anne had started back in surprise; she drew her hand from his. They +were both gloved; only the kid-skins had touched each other. "You are +making a mistake," she said, rising. "You think I am Mrs. Lorrington." + +Dexter had risen also; an involuntary smile passed over his face at her +words. He took her hand again, and held it firmly. + +"Do you not suppose I know to whom I am talking?" he said, "I am talking +to you, Anne, and thinking only of you. I ask you again, will you be my +wife?" + +"Of course not. You do not love me in the least, and I do not love you. +Of what are you dreaming, Mr. Dexter?" She walked across the little +room, and stood between the windows, the red light full upon her. A +brightness had risen in her eyes; she looked very beautiful in her +youthful scorn. + +Dexter gazed at her, but without moving. "You are mistaken," he said, +gravely. "I do love you." + +"Since when?" asked the sweet voice, with a touch of sarcasm. Anne was +now using the powers of concealment which nature gives to all women, +even the youngest, as a defense. Mr. Dexter should know nothing, should +not be vouchsafed even a glimpse, of her inner feelings; she would +simply refuse him, as girls did in books. And she tried to think what +they said. + +But the man opposite her was not like a man in a book. "Since six +o'clock this evening," he answered, quietly. + +Anne looked at him in wonder. + +"Do you wish to hear the whole?" he asked. + +"No; it is nothing to me. Since you only began at six, probably you can +stop at twelve," she answered, still with her girlish scorn perceptible +in her voice. + +But Dexter paid no attention to her sarcasm. "I will tell you the whole +when you are my wife," he said. "Let it suffice now that at the hour +named I became aware of the worthlessness and faithlessness of women; +and--I speak God's truth, Anne--even at that bitter moment I fell back +upon the thought of _you_ as a safeguard--a safeguard against total +disbelief in the possibility of woman's fidelity. I knew then that I had +revered you with my better self all the while--that, young as you are, +I had believed in you. I believe in you now. Be my wife; and from this +instant I will devote all the love in me--and I have more than you +think--to you alone." He had crossed the room, and was standing beside +her. + +Anne felt at once the touch of real feeling. "I am very sorry," she +said, gently, looking up into his face. "I should have said it at first, +but that I did not think you were in earnest until now. I am engaged, +Mr. Dexter; I was engaged before I came here." + +"But," said Dexter, "Miss Vanhorn--" + +"Yes, I know. Grandaunt does not approve of it, and will not countenance +it. But that, of course, makes no difference." + +He looked at her, puzzled by her manner. In truth, poor Anne, while +immovably determined to keep her promise to Rast, even cherishing the +purpose, also, of hastening the marriage if he wished it, was yet so +inefficient an actress that she trembled as she spoke, and returned his +gaze through a mist of tears. + +"You _wish_ to marry this man, I suppose--I am ignorant of his name?" he +asked, watching her with attention. + +"His name is Erastus Pronando; we were children together on the island," +she answered, in a low voice, with downcast eyes. + +"And you wish to marry him?" + +"I do." + +Gregory Dexter put another disappointment down upon the tablets of his +memory--a disappointment and a surprise; he had not once doubted his +success. + +In this certainty he had been deceived partly by Miss Vanhorn, and +partly by Anne herself; by her unstudied frankness. He knew that she +liked him, but he had mistaken the nature of her regard. He could always +control himself, however, and he now turned to her kindly. He thought +she was afraid of her aunt. "Sit down for a few minutes more," he said, +"and tell me about it. Why does Miss Vanhorn disapprove?" + +"I do not know," replied Anne; "or, rather, I do know, but can not tell +you. Never mind about me, Mr. Dexter. I am unhappy; but no one can help +me. I must help myself." + +"Mr. Pronando should esteem it his dearest privilege to do so," said +Dexter, who felt himself growing old and cynical under this revelation +of fresh young love. + +"Yes," murmured Anne, then stopped. "If you will leave me now," she +said, after a moment, "it would be very kind." + +"I will go, of course, if you desire it; but first let me say one word. +Your aunt objects to this engagement, and you have neither father nor +mother to take your part. I have a true regard for you, which is not +altered by the personal disappointment I am at present feeling; it is +founded upon a belief in you which can not change. Can I not help you, +then, as a friend? For instance, could I not help Mr. Pronando--merely +as a friend? I know what it is to have to make one's own way in the +world unaided. I feel for such boys--I mean young men. What does he +intend to do? Give me his address." + +"No," said Anne, touched by this prompt kindness. "But I feel your +generosity, Mr. Dexter; I shall never forget it." Her eyes filled with +tears, but she brushed them away. "Will you leave me now?" she said. + +"Would it not be better if we returned together? I mean, would not Miss +Vanhorn notice it less? You could excuse yourself soon afterward." + +"You are right. I will go down with you. But first, do I not show--" she +went toward the mirror. + +"Show what?" said Dexter, following her, and standing by her side. "That +you are one of the loveliest young girls in the world--as you look +to-night, the loveliest?" He smiled at her reflection in the mirror as +he spoke, and then turned toward the reality. "You show nothing," he +said, kindly; "and my eyes are very observant." + +They went toward the door; as they reached it, he bent over her. "If +this engagement should by any chance be broken, then could you not love +me a little, Anne--only a little?" he murmured, looking into her eyes +questioningly. + +"I wish I could," she answered, gravely. "You are a generous man. I +would like to love you." + +"But you could not?" + +"I can not." + +He pressed her hand in silence, opened the door, and led the way down to +the hall-room. They had been absent one hour. + +Blum, who was standing disconsolately near the entrance, watching Helen, +came up and asked Anne to dance. Reluctant to go to her grandaunt before +it was necessary, she consented. She glanced nervously up and down the +long room as they took their places, but Heathcote was not present. Her +gaze then rested upon another figure moving through the dance at some +distance down the hall. Mrs. Lorrington in her costume that evening +challenged criticism. She did this occasionally--it was one of her +amusements. Her dress was of almost the same shade of color as her hair, +the hue unbroken from head to foot, the few ornaments being little stars +of topaz. Her shoulders and arms were uncovered; and here also she +challenged criticism, since she was so slight that in profile view she +looked like a swaying reed. But as there was not an angle visible +anywhere, her fair slenderness seemed a new kind of beauty, which all, +in spite of sculptor's rules, must now admire. Rachel called her, +smilingly, "the amber witch." But Isabel said, "No; witch-hazel; because +it is so beautiful, and yellow, and sweet." Rachel, Isabel, and Helen +always said charming things about each other in public: they had done +this unflinchingly for years. + +Miss Vanhorn was watching her niece from her comfortable seat on the +other side of the room, and watching with some impatience. But the +Haunted Man was now asking Anne to dance, and Anne was accepting. After +that dance she went out on the piazza for a few moments; when she +returned, Heathcote was in the room, and waltzing with Helen. + +All her courage left her before she could grasp it, and hardly knowing +what she was doing, she went directly across the floor to Miss Vanhorn, +and asked if she might go to her room. + +Miss Vanhorn formed one of a majestic phalanx of old ladies. "Are you +tired?" she asked. + +"Very tired," said Anne, not raising her eyes higher than the stout +waist before her, clad in shining black satin. + +"She does look pale," remarked old Mrs. Bannert, sympathizingly. + +"Anne is always sleepy at eight or nine, like a baby," replied Miss +Vanhorn, well aware that the dark-eyed Rachel was decidedly a +night-bird, and seldom appeared at breakfast at all; "and she has also a +barbarous way of getting up at dawn. Go to bed, child, if you wish; your +bowl of bread and milk will be ready in the morning." Then, as Anne +turned, she added: "You will be asleep when I come up; I will not +disturb you. Take a good rest." Which Anne interpreted, "I give you that +amount of time: think well before you act." The last respite was +accorded. + +But even a minute is precious to the man doomed to death. Anne left the +ball-room almost with a light heart: she had the night. She shut herself +in her room, took off the lace dress, loosened her hair, and sat down by +the window to think. The late moon was rising; a white fog filled the +valley and lay thickly over the river; but she left the sash open--the +cool damp air seemed to soothe her troubled thoughts. For she knew--and +despised herself in the knowledge--that the strongest feeling in her +heart now was jealousy, jealousy of Helen dancing with Heathcote below. +Time passed unheeded; she had not stirred hand or foot when, two hours +later, there was a tap on her door. It was Helen. + +"Do not speak," she whispered, entering swiftly and softly, and closing +the door; "the Grand Llama is coming up the stairs. I wanted to see you, +and I knew that if I did not slip in before she passed, I could not get +in without disturbing her. Do not stir; she will stop at your door and +listen." + +They stood motionless; Miss Vanhorn's step came along the hall, and, as +Helen had predicted, paused at Anne's door. There was no light within, +and no sound; after a moment it passed on, entered the parlor, and then +the bedroom beyond. + +"If Bessmer would only close the bedroom door," whispered Helen, "we +should be quite safe." At this moment the maid did close the door; Helen +gave a sigh of relief. "I never could whisper well," she said. "Only +cat-women whisper nicely. Isabel is a cat-woman. Now when it comes to a +murmur--a faint, clear, sweet murmur, I am an adept. I wonder if Isabel +will subdue her widower? You have been here long enough to have an +opinion. Will she?" + +"I do not know," said Anne, wondering at her own ability to speak the +words. + +"And I--do not care! I am tired, Crystal: may I lie on your bed? Do +close that deathly window, and come over here, so that we can talk +comfortably," said Helen, throwing herself down on the white coverlet--a +long slender shape, with its white arms clasped under its head. The +small room was in shadow. Anne drew a chair to the bedside and sat down, +with her back to the moonlight. + +"This is a miserable world," began Mrs. Lorrington. Her companion, +sitting with folded arms and downcast eyes, mentally agreed with her. + +"Of course _you_ do not think so," continued Helen, "and perhaps, being +such a crystal-innocent, you will never find it out. There are such +souls. There are also others; and it is quite decided that I +hate--Rachel Bannert, who is one of them." + +Anne had moved nervously, but at that name she fell back into stillness +again. + +"Rachel is the kind of woman I dread more than any other," continued +Helen. "Her strength is feeling. Feeling! I tell you, Crystal, that you +and I are capable of loving, and suffering for the one we love, through +long years of pain, where Rachel would not wet the sole of her slipper. +Yet men believe in her! The truth is, men are fools: one sigh deceives +them." + +"Then sigh," said the figure in the chair. + +[Illustration: "ANNE DREW A CHAIR TO THE BEDSIDE AND SAT DOWN, WITH HER +BACK TO THE MOONLIGHT."] + +"No; that is not my talent: I must continue to be myself. But _I_ saw +her on the piazza with Ward to-night; and I detest her." + +"With--Mr. Heathcote?" + +"Yes. Of course nothing would be so much to her disadvantage as to marry +Ward, and she knows it; he has no fortune, and she has none. But she +loves to make me wretched. I made the greatest mistake of my life when I +let her see once, more than a year ago, how things were." + +"How things were?" repeated Anne--that commonplace phrase which carries +deep meanings safely because unexpressed. + +"Of course there is no necessity to tell _you_, Crystal, what you must +already know--that Ward and I are in a certain way betrothed. It is an +old affair: we have known each other always." + +"Yes," said the other voice, affirmatively and steadily. + +"Some day we shall be married, I suppose: we like each other. But there +is no haste at present: I think we both like to be free. Heigh-ho! Do +you admire this dress, Crystal?" + +"It is very beautiful." + +"And yet he only came in and danced with me once!" + +"Perhaps he does not care for dancing," said Anne. She was accomplishing +each one of her sentences slowly and carefully, like answers in a +lesson. + +"Yes, he does. Do not be deceived by his indolent manner, Crystal; he is +full of all sorts of unexpected strong likings and feelings, in spite of +his lazy look. Do you think I should be likely to fall in love with a +stick?" + +Anne made no reply. + +"_Do_ you?" said Helen, insistently, stretching out her arms, and +adjusting the chains of topaz stars that decked their slenderness. + +Anne leaned forward and drew down her friend's hands, holding them +closely in her own. "Helen," she said, "tell me: do you love Mr. +Heathcote?" + +"What is love?" said Mrs. Lorrington, lightly. + +"Tell me, Helen." + +"Why do you wish to know?" + +"I _do_ wish to know." + +"Ward Heathcote is not worth my love." + +"Is he worth Rachel Bannert's, then?" said Anne, touching the spring by +which she had seen the other stirred. + +"Rachel Bannert!" repeated Helen, with a tone of bitter scorn. Then she +paused. "Anne, you are a true-hearted child, and I _will_ tell you. I +love Ward Heathcote with my whole heart and soul." + +She spoke in clear tones, and did not turn away or hide her face; she +lay looking up at the moonlight on the rough white wall. It was Anne who +turned, shivering, and shading her eyes with her hand. + +"I love him so much," Helen continued, "that if he should leave me, I +believe I should die. Not suddenly, or with any sensation, of course. I +only mean that I should not be able to live." + +Again there was silence. Then the clear soft voice went on. + +"I have always loved him. Ever since I can remember. Do not be shocked, +but I loved him even when I married Richard. I was very young, and did +it in a sort of desperate revenge because he did not, would not, care +for me. I was not punished for my madness, for Richard loved me dearly, +and died so soon, poor fellow, that he never discovered the truth. And +then it all began over again. Only _this_ time Ward was--different." + +Another silence followed. Anne did not move or speak. + +"Do not be unhappy about me, child," said Helen at last, turning on her +arm to look at her companion; "all will come right in time. It was only +that I was vexed about this evening. For he has not seemed quite himself +lately, and of course I attribute it to Rachel: her deadly sweetness is +like that of nightshade and tube-roses combined. Now tell me about +yourself: how comes on the quarrel with the Llama?" + +"I hardly know." + +"I saw you stealing away in your white lace with Gregory Dexter this +evening," pursued Helen. "He was as agreeable as ever this morning. +However, there it is again; just before six, Nightshade strolled off +toward the ravine 'to see the sunset' (one sees the sunset so well from +there, you know, facing the east), and Dexter seemed also to have +forgotten the points of the compass, for--he followed her." + +"Then it was Mrs. Bannert," said Anne, half unconsciously. + +"It is always Mrs. Bannert. I do not in the least know what you mean, +but--it is always Mrs. Bannert. What did he say about her?" + +"Of course I can not tell you, Helen. But--I really thought it was you." + +"What should _I_ have to do with it? How you play at cross-purposes, +Crystal! Is it possible that during all this time you have not +discovered how infatuated our Gregory is with Rachel? Ward is only +amusing himself; but Gregory is, in one sense, carried away. However, I +doubt if it lasts, and I really think he has a warm regard for you, a +serious one. It is a pity you could not--" + +Anne stopped the sentence with a gesture. + +"Yes, I see that little ring," said Helen. "But the world is a puzzle, +and we often follow several paths before we find the right one. How cold +your hands are! The nights are no longer like summer, and the moon is +Medusa. The autumn moon is a cruel moon always, reminding us of the +broken hopes and promises of the lost summer. I must go, Crystal. You +are pale and weary; the summer with the Llama has been too hard. I +believe you will be glad to be safely back at Moreau's again. But I can +not come over now and tell you romances, can I? You know the personages, +and the charm will be gone. To-morrow I am going to ride. You have not +seen me in my habit? I assure you even a mermaid can not compare with +me. Do you know, I should be happy for life if I could but induce Rachel +to show herself once on horseback by my side: on horseback Rachel +looks--excuse the word, but it expresses it--sploshy. The trouble is +that she knows it, and will not go; she prefers moonlight, a piazza, +and sylphide roses in her hair, with the background of fluffy white +shawl." + +Then, with a little more light nonsense, Helen went away--went at last. +Anne bolted the door, threw herself down upon her knees beside the bed, +with her arms stretched out and her face hidden. There had been but this +wanting to her misery, and now it was added: Helen loved him. + +For she was not deceived by the flippant phrases which had surrounded the +avowal: Helen would talk flippantly on her death-bed. None the less was +she in earnest when she spoke those few words. In such matters a woman +can read a woman: there is a tone of voice which can not be +counterfeited. It tells all. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + "What is this that thou hast been fretting and fuming and lamenting + and self-tormenting on account of? Say it in a word: is it not + because thou art not _happy_? Foolish soul! what act of Legislature + was there that _thou_ shouldst be happy? There is in Man a higher + than Happiness; he can do without Happiness, and instead thereof + find Blessedness. This is the everlasting Yea, wherein all + contradiction is solved."--CARLYLE. + + +After an hour of mute suffering, Anne sought the blessed oblivion of +sleep. She had conquered herself; she was exhausted. She would try to +gain strength for the effort of the coming day. But nothing avails +against that fever, strong as life and sad as death, which we call Love, +and which, in spite of the crowd of shallower feelings that masquerade +under and mock its name, still remains the master-power of our human +existence. Anne had no sooner laid her head upon the pillow than there +rose within her, and ten times stronger than before, her love and her +jealousy. She would stay and contest the matter with Helen. Had he not +said, had he not looked--And then she caught herself back in an agony of +self-reproach. For it is always hard for the young to learn the lesson +of human weakness. It is strange and humiliating to them to discover +that there are powers within them stronger than their own wills. The old +know this so well that they excuse each other silently; but, loath to +shake the ignorant faith of innocence, they leave the young to find it +out for themselves. The whole night with Anne was but a repetition of +efforts and lapses, followed toward morning, however, by a struggling +return to self-control. For years of faithfulness even as a child are +not thrown away, but yield, thank Heaven! a strength at last in times of +trial; else might we all go drown ourselves. At dawn, with tear-stained +cheeks, she fell asleep, waking with a start when Bessmer knocked and +inquired if she was ill. Miss Vanhorn had gone down to breakfast. + +"Please send me some coffee," said Anne, without opening the door. "I do +not care for anything else. I will be ready soon." + +She dressed herself slowly, swallowing the coffee. But youth is strong; +the cold bath and the fresh white morning dress made her look as fair as +ever. Miss Vanhorn was waiting for her in the little parlor. Bessmer was +sent away, and the door closed. The girl remained standing, and took +hold of the back of a chair to nerve herself for the first step along +the hard, lonely road stretching out before her like a desert. + +"Anne," began Miss Vanhorn, in a magisterial voice, "what did Mr. Dexter +say to you last evening?" + +"He asked me to be his wife." + +"I hardly expected it so soon, although I knew it would come in time," +said the old woman, with a swallow of satisfaction. "Sit down. And don't +be an idiot. You will now listen to _me_. Mr. Dexter is a rich man; he +is what is called a rising man (if any one wants to rise); he is a good +enough man also, as men go. He has no claim as regards family; neither +have you. He is a thorough and undiluted American; so are you. He will +be a kind husband, and one far higher in the world than you had any +right to expect. On the other hand, you will do very well as his wife, +for you have fair ability and a pretty face (it is of course your pink +and white beauty that has won him), and principles enough for both. +Like all people who have made money rapidly, he is lavish, and will deny +you nothing; he will even allow you, I presume, to help one and all of +that colony of children, priests, old maids, and dogs, up on that +island. See what power will be put into your hands! You might labor all +your life, and not accomplish one-hundredth part of that which, as +Gregory Dexter's wife, you could do in one day. + +"As to your probable objection--the boy-and-girl engagement in which you +were foolish enough to entangle yourself--I will simply say, leave it to +time; it will break itself. How do you know that it is not, in fact, +broken already? The Pronando blood is faithless in its very essence," +added the old woman, bitterly. "Mr. Dexter is a man of the world. I will +explain it to him myself; he will understand, and will not urge you at +present. He will wait, as I shall, for the natural solution of time. But +in the mean while you must not offend him; he is not at all a man whom a +woman can offend with impunity. He is vain, and has a singularly +mistaken idea of his own importance. Agree to what I propose--which is +simple quiescence for the present--and you shall go back to Moreau's, +and the allowance for the children shall be continued. I have never +before in my life made so many concessions; it is because you have had +at times lately a look that brings back--Alida." + +Anne's lips trembled; a sudden weakness came over her at this allusion +to her mother. + +"Well?" said Miss Vanhorn, expectantly. + +There was a pause. Then a girl's voice answered: "I can not, grandaunt. +I must go." + +"You _may_ go, I tell you, back to Moreau's on the 1st of October." + +"I mean that I can not marry Mr. Dexter." + +"No one asks you to marry him now." + +"I can never marry him." + +"Why?" said Miss Vanhorn, with rising color. "Be careful what you say. +No lies." + +"I--I am engaged to Rast." + +"Lie number one. Look at me. If your engagement was ended, _then_ would +you marry Mr. Dexter?" + +Anne half rose, as if to escape, but sank back again. "I could not marry +him, because I do not love him," she answered. + +"And whom do you love, that you know so much about it, and have your 'do +not' and 'can not' so promptly ready? Never tell me that it is that boy +upon the island who has taught you all these new ways, this faltering +and fear of looking in my face, of which you knew nothing when you came. +Do you wish me to tell you what I think of you?" + +"No," cried the girl, rushing forward, and falling on her knees beside +the arm-chair; "tell me nothing. Only let me go away. I can not, can not +stay here; I am too wretched, too weak. You can not have a lower opinion +of me than I have of myself at this moment. If you have any compassion +for me--for the memory of my mother--say no more, and let me go." She +bowed her head upon the arm of the chair and sobbed aloud. + +But Miss Vanhorn rose and walked away. "I know what this means," she +said, standing in the centre of the room. "Like mother, like daughter. +Only Alida ran after a man who loved her, although her inferior, while +you have thrown yourself at the feet of a man who is simply laughing at +you. Don't you know, you fool, that Ward Heathcote will marry Helen +Lorrington--the woman you pretend to be grateful to, and call your +dearest friend? Helen Lorrington will be in every way a suitable wife +for him. It has long been generally understood. The idea of _your_ +trying to thrust yourself between them is preposterous--I may say a +maniac's folly." + +"I am not trying: only let me go," sobbed Anne, still kneeling by the +chair. + +"You think I have not seen," continued Miss Vanhorn, her wrath rising +with every bitter word; "but I have. Only I never dreamed that it was as +bad as this. I never dreamed that Alida's daughter could be bold and +immodest--worse than her mother, who was only love-mad." + +Anne started to her feet. "Miss Vanhorn," she said, "I will not hear +this, either of myself or my mother. It is not true." + +"As to not hearing it, you are right; you will not hear my voice often +in the future. I wash my hands of you. You are an ungrateful girl, and +will come to an evil end. When I think of the enormous selfishness you +now show in thus throwing away, for a mere matter of personal obstinacy, +the bread of your sister and brothers, and leaving them to starve, I +stand appalled. What do you expect?" + +"Nothing--save to go." + +"And you _shall_ go." + +"To-day?" + +"This afternoon, at three." As she said this, Miss Vanhorn seated +herself with her back toward Anne, and took up a book, as though there +was no one in the room. + +"Do you want me any longer, grandaunt?" + +"Never call me by that name again. Go to your room; Bessmer will attend +to you. At two o'clock I will see you for a moment before you go." + +Without a reply, Anne obeyed. Her tears were dried as if by fever; words +had been spoken which could not be forgiven. Inaction was impossible; +she began to pack. Then, remembering who had given her all these +clothes, she paused, uncertain what to do. After reflection, she decided +to take with her only those she had brought from the half-house; and in +this she was not actuated by any spirit of retaliation, her idea was +that her grandaunt would demand the gifts in any case. Miss Vanhorn was +not generous. She worked steadily; she did not wish to think; yet still +the crowding feelings pursued her, caught up with her, and then went +along with her, thrusting their faces close to hers, and forcing +recognition. Was she, as Miss Vanhorn had said, enormously selfish in +thus sacrificing the new comfort of the pinched household on the island +to her own obstinacy? But, as she folded the plain garments brought from +that home, she knew that it was not selfishness; as she replaced the +filmy ball dress in its box, she said to herself that she could not +deceive Mr. Dexter by so much even as a silence. Then, as she wrapped +the white parasol in its coverings, the old burning, throbbing misery +rolled over her, followed by the hot jealousy which she thought she had +conquered; she seized the two dresses given by Helen, and added them to +those left behind. But the action brought shame, and she replaced them. +And now all the clothes faced her from the open trunks; those from the +island, those which Rast had seen, murmured, "Faithless!" Helen's gifts +whispered, "Ingratitude!" and those of her grandaunt called more loudly, +"Fool!" She closed the lids, and turned toward the window; she tried to +busy her mind with the future: surely thought and plans were needed. She +was no longer confident, as she had been when she first left her +Northern island; she knew now how wide the world was, and how cold. She +could not apply at the doors of schools without letters or +recommendations; she could not live alone. Her one hope began and ended +in Jeanne-Armande. She dressed herself in travelling garb and sat down +to wait. It was nearly noon, probably she would not see Helen, as she +always slept through the morning after a ball, preserving by this +changeless care the smooth fairness of her delicate complexion. She +decided to write a note of farewell, and leave it with Bessmer; but +again and again she tore up her beginnings, until the floor was strewn +with fragments. She had so very much not to say. At last she succeeded +in putting together a few sentences, which told nothing, save that she +was going away; she bade her good-by, and thanked her for all her +kindness, signing, without any preliminary phrases (for was she +"affectionately" or "sincerely" Helen's "friend"?), merely her name, +Anne Douglas. + +At one o'clock Bessmer entered with luncheon. Evidently she had received +orders to enter into no conversation with the prisoner; but she took the +note, and promised to deliver it with her own hands. At two the door +opened, and Miss Vanhorn came in. + +The old woman's eye took in at a glance the closed trunks and the +travelling dress. She had meant to try her niece, to punish her; but +even then she could not believe that the girl would really throw away +forever all the advantages she had placed within her grasp. She sat +down, and after waiting a moment, closed her eyes. "Anne Douglas," she +began, "daughter of my misguided niece Alida Clanssen, I have come for a +final decision. Answer my questions. First, have you, or have you not, +one hundred dollars in the world?" + +"I have not." + +"Have you, or have you not, three brothers and one sister wholly +dependent upon you?" + +"I have." + +"Is it just or honorable to leave them longer to the charity of a woman +who is poor herself, and not even a relative?" + +"It is neither." + +"Have I, or have I not, assisted you, offered also to continue the +pension which makes them comfortable?" + +"You have." + +"Then," said the old woman, still with her eyes closed, "why persist in +this idiotic stubbornness? In offending me, are you not aware that you +are offending the only person on earth who can assist you? I make no +promises as to the future; but I am an old woman now, one to whom you +could at least be dutiful. There--I want no fine words. Show your +fineness by obeying my wishes." + +"I will stay with _you_, grandaunt, willingly, gladly, gratefully, if +you will take me away from this place." + +"No conditions," said Miss Vanhorn. "Come here; kneel down in front of +me, so that I can look at you. Will you stay with me _here_, if I yield +everything concerning Mr. Dexter?" She held her firmly, with her small +keen eyes searching her face. + +Anne was silent. Like the panorama which is said to pass before the eyes +of the drowning man, the days and hours at Caryl's as they would be, +must be, unrolled themselves before her. But there only followed the +same desperate realization of the impossibility of remaining; the +misery, the jealousy; worse than all, the self-doubt. The misery, the +jealousy, she could perhaps bear, deep as they were. But what appalled +her was this new doubt of herself, this new knowledge, that, in spite of +all her determination, she might, if tried, yield to this love which had +taken possession of her unawares, yield to certain words which he might +speak, to certain tones of his voice, and thus become even more +faithless to Rast, to Helen, and to herself, than she already was. If he +would go away--but she knew that he would not. No, _she_ must go. +Consciousness came slowly back to her eyes, which had been meeting Miss +Vanhorn's blankly. + +"I can not stay," she said. + +Miss Vanhorn thrust her away violently. "I am well paid for having had +anything to do with Douglas blood," she cried, her voice trembling with +anger. "Get back into the wilderness from whence you came! I will never +hear your name on earth again." She left the room. + +In a few moments Bessmer appeared, her eyes reddened by tears, and +announced that the wagon was waiting. It was at a side door. At this +hour there was no one on the piazzas, and Anne's trunk was carried down, +and she herself followed with Bessmer, without being seen by any one +save the servants and old John Caryl. + +"I am not to say anything to you, Miss Douglas, if you please, but just +the ordinary things, if you please," said Bessmer, as the wagon bore +them away. "You are to take the three o'clock train, and go--wherever +you please, she said. I was to tell you." + +"Yes, Bessmer; do not be troubled. I know what to do. Will you tell +grandaunt, when you return, that I beg her to forgive what has seemed +obstinacy, but was only sad necessity. Can you remember it?" + +"Yes, miss; only sad necessity," repeated Bessmer, with dropping tears. +She was a meek woman, with a comfortable convexity of person, which, +however, did not seem to give her confidence. + +"I was not to know, miss, if you please, where you bought tickets to," +she said, as the wagon stopped at the little station. "I was to give +you this, and then go right back." + +She handed Anne an envelope containing a fifty-dollar note. Anne looked +at it a moment. "I will not take this, I think; you can tell grandaunt +that I have money enough for the present," she said, returning it. She +gave her hand kindly to the weeping maid, who was then driven away in +the wagon, her sun-umbrella held askew over her respectable brown +bonnet, her broad shoulders shaken with her sincere grief. A turn in the +road soon hid even this poor friend of hers from view. Anne was alone. + +The station-keeper was not there; his house was near by, but hidden by a +grove of maples, and Anne, standing on the platform, seemed all alone, +the two shining rails stretching north and south having the peculiarly +solitary aspect which a one-track railway always has among green fields, +with no sign of life in sight. No train has passed, or ever will pass. +It is all a dream. She walked to and fro. She could see into the +waiting-room, which was adorned with three framed texts, and another +placard not religiously intended, but referring, on the contrary, to +steamboats, which might yet be so interpreted, namely, "Take the +Providence Line." She noted the drearily ugly round stove, faded below +to white, planted in a sand-filled box; she saw the bench, railed off +into single seats by iron elbows, and remembered that during her journey +eastward, two, if not three, of these places were generally filled with +the packages of some solitary female of middle age, clad in +half-mourning, who remained stonily unobservant of the longing glances +cast upon the space she occupied. These thoughts came to her +mechanically. When a decision has finally been made, and for the present +nothing more can be done, the mind goes wandering off on trivial +errands; the flight of a bird, the passage of the fairy car of +thistle-down, are sufficient to set it in motion. It seemed to her that +she had been there a long time, when a step came through the grove: +Hosea Plympton--or, as he was called in the neighborhood, Hosy Plim--was +unlocking the station door. Anne bought her ticket, and had her trunk +checked; she hoped to reach the half-house before midnight. + +Hosy having attended to his official business with dignity, now came out +to converse unofficially with his one passenger. "From Caryl's, ain't +you?" + +"Yes," replied Anne. + +"Goin' to New York?" + +"Yes." + +"I haven't yet ben to that me-tropo-lis," said Hosy. "On some accounts I +should admire to go, on others not. Ben long at Caryl's?" + +"Yes, some time." + +"My wife's cousin helps over there; Mirandy's her name. And she tells +me, Mirandy does, that the heap of washing over to that house is a sight +to see. She tells me, Mirandy does, that they don't especial dress up +for the Sabbath over there, not so much even as on other days." + +"That is true, I believe." + +"Sing'lar," said the little man, "what folks 'll do as has the money! +They don't seem to be capable of enj'ying themselves exactly; and +p'r'aps that's what Providence intends. We haven't had city folks at +Caryl's until lately, miss, you see; and I confess they've ben a +continooal study to me ever since. 'Tis amazin' the ways the Lord'll +take to make us contented with our lot. Till I _see_ 'em, I thought 'em +most downright and all everlastin' to be envied. But _now_ I feel the +ba'm of comfort and innard strengthenin' when I see how little they know +_how_ to enj'y themselves, after all. Here's the train, miss." + +In another moment Anne felt herself borne away--away from the solitary +station, with its shining lines of rails; from the green hills which +encircled Caryl's; from the mountain-peaks beyond. She had started on +her journey into the wide world. + +In darkness, but in safety, she arrived at the half-house, in the +station-keeper's wagon, a few minutes before midnight. A light was still +burning, and in response to her knock Jeanne-Armande herself opened the +door, clad in a wrapper, with a wonderful flannel cap on her head. She +was much astonished to see her pupil, but received her cordially, +ordered the trunk brought in, and herself attended to the beating down +of the station-keeper's boy to a proper price for his services. She +remarked upon his audacity and plainly criminal tendencies; she +thoroughly sifted the physical qualities of the horse; she objected to +the shape of the wagon; and finally, she had noted his manner of +bringing in the trunk, and shaving its edges as well as her doorway, and +she felt that she must go over to the station herself early in the +morning, and lodge a complaint against him. What did he mean by-- But +here the boy succumbed, and departed with half-price, and Jeanne-Armande +took breath, and closed the door in triumph. + +"You see that I have come back to you, mademoiselle," said Anne, with a +faint smile. "Shall I tell you why?" + +"Yes; but no, not now. You are very weary, my child; you look pale and +worn. Would you like some coffee?" + +"Yes," said Anne, who felt a faint exhaustion stealing over her. "But +the fast-day coffee will do." For there was one package of coffee in the +store-room which went by that name, and which old Nora was instructed to +use on Fridays. Not that Jeanne-Armande followed strict rules and +discipline; but she had bought that coffee at an auction sale in the +city for a very low price, and it proved indeed so low in quality that +they could not drink it more than once a week. Certainly, therefore, +Friday was the appropriate day. + +"No," said the hostess, "you shall have a little of the other, child. +Come to the kitchen. Nora has gone to bed, but I will arrange a little +supper for you with my own hands." + +They went to the bare little room, where a mouse would have starved. But +mademoiselle was not without resources, and keys. Soon she "arranged" a +brisk little fire and a cheery little stew, while the pint coffee-pot +sent forth a delicious fragrance. Sitting there in a wooden chair beside +the little stove, Anne felt more of home comfort than she had ever +known at Caryl's, and the thin miserly teacher was kinder than her +grandaunt had ever been. She ate and drank, and was warmed; then, +sitting by the dying coals, she told her story, or rather as much of it +as it was necessary mademoiselle should know. + +"It is a pity," said Jeanne-Armande, "and especially since she has no +relative, this grandaunt, nearer than yourself. Could nothing be done in +the way of renewal, as to heart-strings?" + +"Not at present. I must rely upon you, mademoiselle; in this, even Tante +can not help me." + +"That is true; she can not. She even disapproved of my own going forth +into the provinces," said Jeanne-Armande, with the air of an explorer. +"We have different views of life, Hortense Moreau and I; but there!--we +respect each other. Of how much money can you dispose at present, my +child?" + +Anne told the sum. + +"If it is so little as that," said Jeanne-Armande, "it will be better +for you to go westward with me immediately. I start earlier than usual +this year; you can take the journey with me, and share expenses; in this +way we shall both be able to save. Now as to chances: there is sometimes +a subordinate employed under me, when there is a press of new scholars. +This is the autumn term: there _may_ be a press. I must prepare you, +however, for the lowest of low salaries," said the teacher, her voice +changing suddenly to a dry sharpness. "I shall present you as a novice, +to whom the privilege of entering the institution is an equivalent of +money." + +"I expect but little," said Anne. "A beginner must take the lowest +place." + +On the second day they started. Jeanne-Armande was journeying to Weston +this time by a roundabout way. By means of excursion tickets to Valley +City, offered for low rates for three days, she had found that she could +(in time) reach Weston _viâ_ the former city, and effect a saving of one +dollar and ten cents. With the aid of her basket, no additional meals +would be required, and the money saved, therefore, would be pure gain. +There was only one point undecided, namely, should she go through to +Valley City, or change at a junction twenty miles this side for the +northern road? What would be the saving, if any, by going on? What by +changing? No one could tell her; the complication of excursion rates to +Valley City for the person who was not going there, and the method of +night travel for a person who would neither take a sleeping-car, nor +travel in a day car, combined themselves to render more impassive still +the ticket-sellers, safely protected in their official round towers from +the rabble of buyers outside. Regarding the main lines between New York +and Weston, and all their connections, it would be safe to say that +mademoiselle knew more than the officials themselves. The remainder of +the continent was an unknown wilderness in her mind, but these lines of +rails, over which she was obliged to purchase her way year after year, +she understood thoroughly. She had tried all the routes, and once she +had gone through Canada; she had looked at canal-boats meditatively. She +was haunted by a vision that some day she might find a clean captain and +captain's wife who would receive her as passenger, and allow her to cook +her own little meals along shore. Once, she explained to Anne, a +Sunday-school camp-meeting had reduced the rates, she being apparently +on her way thither. She had always regretted that the season of State +fairs was a month later: she felt herself capable of being on her way to +all of them. + +"But now, whether to go on to Valley City, or to leave the train at +Stringhampton Junction, is the question I can not decide," she said, +with irritation, having returned discomfited from another encounter with +a ticket-seller. + +"We reach Weston by both routes, do we not?" said Anne. + +"Of course; that follows without saying. Evidently you do not comprehend +the considerations which are weighing upon me. However, I will get it +out of the ticket agent at New Macedonia," said mademoiselle, rising. +"Come, the train is ready." + +They were going only as far as New Macedonia that night; mademoiselle +had slept there twice, and intended to sleep there again. Once, in her +decorous maiden life, she had passed a night in a sleeping-car, and +never again would her foot "cross the threshold of one of those +outrageous inventions." She remembered even now with a shudder the +processions of persons in muffled drapery going to the wash-rooms in the +early morning. New Macedonia existed only to give suppers and +breakfasts; it had but two narrow sleeping apartments over its abnormal +development of dining-room below. But the military genius of +Jeanne-Armande selected it on this very account; for sleeping-rooms +where no one ever slept, half-price could in conscience alone be +charged. All night Anne was wakened at intervals by the rushing sound of +passing trains. Once she stole softly to the uncurtained window and +looked out; clouds covered the sky, no star was visible, but down the +valley shone a spark which grew and grew, and then turned white and +intense, as, with a glare and a thundering sound, a locomotive rushed +by, with its long line of dimly lighted sleeping-cars swiftly and softly +following with their unconscious human freight, the line ending in two +red eyes looking back as the train vanished round a curve. + +"Ten hours' sleep," said mademoiselle, awaking with satisfaction in the +morning. "I now think we can sit up to-night in the Valley City +waiting-room, and save the price of lodgings. Until twelve they would +think we were waiting for the midnight train; after that, the night +porter, who comes on duty then, would suppose it was the early morning +express." + +"Then you have decided to go through to Valley City?" asked Anne. + +"Yes, since by this arrangement we can do it without expense." + +Two trains stopped at New Macedonia for breakfast, one eastward bound +from over the Alleghanies, the other westward bound from New York. +Jeanne-Armande's strategy was to enter the latter while its passengers +were at breakfast, and take bodily possession of a good seat, removing, +if necessary, a masculine bag or two left there as tokens of ownership; +for the American man never makes war where the gentler sex is concerned, +but retreats to another seat, or even to the smoking-car, with silent +generosity. + +Breakfast was now over; the train-boy was exchanging a few witticisms +with the pea-nut vender of the station, a brakeman sparred playfully +with the baggage porter, and a pallid telegraph operator looked on from +his window with interest. Meanwhile the conductor, in his stiff official +cap, pared a small apple with the same air of fixed melancholy and +inward sarcasm which he gave to all his duties, large and small; when it +was eaten, he threw the core with careful precision at a passing pig, +looked at his watch, and called out, suddenly and sternly, "All aboard!" +The train moved on. + +It was nine o'clock. At ten there came into the car a figure Anne +knew--Ward Heathcote. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + "Man is a bundle of contradictions, tied together with + fancies."--PERSIAN PROVERB. + + "The might of one fair face sublimes my love, + For it hath weaned my heart from low desires. + Nor death I heed, nor purgatorial fires. + Forgive me if I can not turn away + From those sweet eyes that are my earthly heaven, + For they are guiding stars, benignly given + To tempt my footsteps to the upward way." + + --MICHAEL ANGELO. + + +Dire was the wrath of Helen Lorrington when, having carefully filled the +measure of her lost sleep, she sent a little note across to Anne, and +answer was returned that Miss Douglas was gone. + +Mrs. Lorrington, with compliments to Miss Vanhorn, then begged (on a +card) to be informed _where_ Miss Douglas was gone. Miss Vanhorn, with +compliments to Mrs. Lorrington (also on a card), returned answer that +she did not know. Mrs. Lorrington, deeply grieved to disturb Miss +Vanhorn a second time, then requested to be favored with Miss Douglas's +address. Miss Vanhorn, with assurances that it was no disturbance, but +always a pleasure to oblige Mrs. Lorrington, replied that she did not +possess it. Then Helen waited until the old coupé rolled away for an +afternoon drive, its solitary occupant inside, her profile visible +between the two closed glass windows like an object mounted for a +microscope, and going across, beguiled the mild Bessmer to tell all she +knew. This was not much; but the result was great anger in Helen's mind, +and a determination to avenge the harsh deed. Bessmer did not know +causes, but she knew actions. Anne had been sent away in disgrace, the +maid being forbidden to know even the direction the lonely traveller had +taken. Helen, quick to solve riddles, solved this, at least as far as +one side of it was concerned, and the quick, partially correct guesses +of a quick-witted woman are often, by their very nearness, more +misleading than any others. Mr. Dexter had been with Anne during the +evening of the ball; probably he had asked her to be his wife. Anne, +faithful to her engagement, had refused him; and Miss Vanhorn, faithful +to her cruel nature, had sent her away in disgrace. And when Helen +learned that Mr. Dexter had gone also--gone early in the morning before +any one was stirring--she took it as confirmation of her theory, and was +now quite sure. She would tell all the house, she said to herself. She +began by telling Heathcote. + +They were strolling in the garden. She turned toward the little arbor at +the end of the path. + +"Not there," said Heathcote. + +"Why not? Have you been there so much with Rachel?" said his companion, +in a sweet voice. + +"Never, I think. But arbors are damp holes." + +"Nevertheless, I am going there, and you are going with me." + +"As you please." + +"Ward, how much have you been with Rachel?" she asked, when they were +seated in the little bower, which was overgrown with the old-fashioned +vine called matrimony. + +"Oh!" said Heathcote, with a sound of fatigue in his voice. "Are we +never to have an end to that subject?" + +"Yes; when you _make_ an end." + +"One likes to amuse one's self. You do." + +"Whom do you mean now?" said Helen, diverted from her questions for the +moment, as he intended she should be. + +To tell the truth, Heathcote did not mean any one; but he never +hesitated. So now he answered, promptly, "Dexter." He had long ago +discovered that he could make any woman believe he was jealous of any +man, no matter whom, even one to whom she had never spoken; it +presupposed that the other man had been all the time a silent admirer, +and on this point the grasp of the feminine imagination is wide and +hopeful. + +"How like you that is! Mr. Dexter is nothing to me." + +"You have been out driving with him already," said Heathcote, pursuing +his advantage; "and you have not been out with me." + +"He has gone; so we need not quarrel about him." + +"When did he go?" + +"Early this morning. And to show you how unjust you are, he went because +last evening Anne Douglas refused him." + +"Then he was refused twice in one day," said Heathcote. "Mrs. Bannert +refused him at six." + +"How do you know?" + +"She told me." + +"Traitorous creature!" + +"Oh no; she is an especial--I may say confidential--friend of mine." + +"Then what am I?" + +"Not a friend at all, I hope," said the man beside her. "Something +more." He was pulling a spray of vine to pieces, and did not look up; +but Helen was satisfied, and smiled to herself brightly. She now went +back to Anne. "Did you know poor Anne was gone too, Ward?" + +"Gone!" said Heathcote, starting. Then he controlled himself. "What do +you mean?" he asked. + +"I mean that Miss Vanhorn cruelly sent her away this afternoon without +warning, and with only a little money; Bessmer was not even allowed to +inquire what she intended to do, or where she was going. I have been +haunted ever since I heard it by visions of the poor child arriving in +New York all alone, and perhaps losing her way: she only knew that one +up-town locality near Moreau's." + +"Do you mean to say that no one knows where she has gone?" + +"No one. Bessmer tells me that the old dragon was in one of her black +rages. Mr. Dexter was with Anne for some time in the little parlor +during the ball last evening, and Miss Vanhorn had the room made ready, +as though she expected him. Here are the few lines the poor child left +for me: they are constrained, and very unlike her; but I suppose she was +too troubled to choose her words. She told me herself only the day +before that she was very unhappy." + +Heathcote took the little note, and slipped it into an inner pocket. He +said nothing, and went on stripping the vine. + +"There is one thing that puzzles me," continued Helen. "Bessmer heard +the old woman say, violently, 'You have thrown yourself at the feet of a +man who is simply laughing at you.' Now Anne never threw herself at any +man's feet--unless, indeed, it might be the feet of that boy on the +island to whom she is engaged. I do not know how she acts when with +him." + +"It is a pity, since Bessmer overheard so much, that while she was about +it she did not overhear more," said Heathcote, dryly. + +"You need not suspect her: she is as honest as a cow, and as +unimaginative. She happened to catch that sentence because she had +entered the next room for something; but she went out again immediately, +and heard no more. What I fear is that Miss Vanhorn has dismissed her +entirely, and that I shall not see her again, even at Moreau's. In the +note she says that she will send me her address when she can, which is +oddly expressed, is it not? I suppose she means that she will send it +when she knows where she is to be. Poor child! think of her to-night out +in the hard world all alone!" + +"I do think of her." + +"It is good of you to care so much. But you know how much attached to +her I am." + +"Yes." + +"She is an odd girl. Undeveloped, yet very strong. She would refuse a +prince, a king, without a thought, and work all her life like a slave +for the man she loved, whoever he might be. In truth, she has done what +amounts to nearly the same thing, if my surmises are correct. Those +children on the island were pensioned, and I presume the old dragon has +stopped the pension." + +"Have you no idea where she has gone?" + +"Probably to Mademoiselle Pitre at Lancaster, on the Inside Road; I +stopped there once to see her. It would be her first resource. I shall +hear from her, of course, in a few days, and then I shall help her in +every way in my power. We will not let her suffer, Ward." + +"No." + +Then there was a pause. + +"Are you not chilly here, Helen?" + +"It _is_ damp," said Mrs. Lorrington, rising. She always followed the +moods of this lethargic suitor of hers as closely as she could divine +them; she took the advance in every oblique and even retrograde movement +he made so swiftly that it generally seemed to have originated with +herself. In five minutes they were in the house, and she had left him. + +In what was called the office, a group of young men were discussing, +over their cigars, a camping party; the mountains, whose blue sides lay +along the western sky, afforded good hunting ground still, and were not +as yet farmed out to clubs. The men now at Caryl's generally camped out +for a few weeks every year; it was one of their habits. Heathcote, with +his hands in the pockets of his sack-coat, walked up and down, +listening. After a while, "I think I'll go with you," he said. + +"Come along, then, old fellow; I wish you would." + +"When are you going?" + +"To-morrow morning--early." + +"By wagon?" + +"Train to the junction; then wagons." + +"How long shall you stay?" + +"A week or two." + +"I'll go," said Heathcote. He threw away his cigar, and started toward +his room. Helen was singing in the parlor as he passed; he paused +outside for a moment to listen. Every one was present save Anne and +Gregory Dexter; yet the long room wore to him already the desolate and +empty aspect of summer resorts in September. He could see the singer +plainly; he leaned against the wall and looked at her. He liked her; she +fitted into all the grooves of his habits and tastes. And he thought she +would marry him if he pushed the matter. While he was thus meditating, a +soft little hand touched his arm in the darkness. "I saw you," said +Rachel, in a whisper, "and came round to join you. You are looking at +Helen; what a flute-like voice she has! Let us go out and listen to her +on the piazza." + +Mr. Heathcote would be delighted to go. He hated that parlor, with all +those people sitting round in a row. How could Rachel stand it? + +Rachel, with a pathetic sigh, answered, How could she do as she wished? +She had no talent for deception. + +Heathcote regretted this; he wished with all his heart that she had. + +His heart was not all his to wish with, Rachel suggested, in a cooing +murmur. + +He answered that it was. And then they went out on the piazza. + +Helen missed Rachel, and suspected, but sang on as sweetly as ever. At +last, however, even Rachel could not keep the recreant admirer longer. +He went off to his room, filled a travelling bag, lit a cigar, and then +sat down to write a note: + + * * * * * + +"DEAR HELEN,--I have decided suddenly to go with the camping party to +the mountains for a week or two; we leave early in the morning. I shall +hope to find you still here when I return. + +W. H." + + * * * * * + +He sealed this missive, threw it aside, and then began to study a +railway guide. To a person going across to the mountains in a wagon, a +knowledge of the latest time-tables was, of course, important. + +The next morning, while her maid was coiling her fair hair, Mrs. +Lorrington received the note, and bit her lips with vexation. + +The hunting party drove over to the station soon after six, and waited +there for the early train. Hosy sold them their tickets, and then came +out to gain a little information in affable conversation. All the men +save Heathcote were attired in the most extraordinary old clothes, and +they wore among them an assortment of hats which might have won a prize +in a collection. Hosy regarded them with wonder, but his sharp freckled +face betrayed no sign. They were men, and he was above curiosity. He ate +an apple reflectively, and took an inward inventory: "Hez clothes that I +wouldn't be seen in, and sports 'em proud as you please. Hats like a +pirate. The strangest set of fellers!" + +As the branch road train, with a vast amount of self-important +whistling, drew near the junction with the main line, Heathcote said +carelessly that he thought he would run down to the city for a day or +two, and join them later. There was hue and cry over this delinquency, +but he paid his way to peace by promising to bring with him on his +return a certain straw-packed basket, which, more than anything else, is +a welcome sight to poor hard-worked hunters in a thirsty land. The +wagons rolled away with their loads, and he was left to take the +southern-bound express. He reached the city late in the evening, slept +there, and early the next morning went out to Lancaster Station. When he +stepped off the train, a boy and a red wagon were in waiting; nothing +else save the green country. + +[Illustration: "WHILE HER MAID WAS COILING HER FAIR HAIR."] + +"Does a French lady named Pitre live in this neighborhood?" he inquired +of the boy, who was holding the old mare's head watchfully, as though, +if not restrained, she would impetuously follow the receding train. This +was the boy with whom Jeanne-Armande had had her memorable contest over +Anne's fare. Here was his chance to make up from the pockets of this +stranger--fair prey, since he was a friend of hers--the money lost on +that field. + +"Miss Peters lives not fur off. I can drive you there if you want ter +go." + +Heathcote took his seat in the wagon, and slowly as possible the boy +drove onward, choosing the most roundabout course, and bringing the +neighborhood matrons to their windows to see that wagon pass a second +time with the same stranger in it, going no one knew where. At last, all +the cross-roads being exhausted, the boy stopped before the closed +half-house. + +"Is this the place? It looks uninhabited," said Heathcote. + +"'T always looks so; she's such a screw, she is," replied Eli, addressed +as "Li" by his friends. + +Heathcote knocked; no answer. He went round to the back door, but found +no sign of life. + +"There is no one here. Would any one in the neighborhood know where she +has gone?" + +"Mr. Green might, over to the store," said Li. + +"Drive there." + +"I've got to meet the next train, but I'll take you as fur as the door; +'tain't but a step from there to the station. And you might as well pay +me now," he added, carelessly, "because the mare she's very fiery, and +won't stand." Pocketing his money--double price--he drove off, exultant. +It was a mile and a half to the station, and a hot, cloudless morning. + +Heathcote made acquaintance with Mr. Green, and asked his question. +There was no one in the shop at the moment, and Mr. Green responded +freely that he knew Miss Peters very well; in fact, they were old +friends. She had gone to Valley City--had, in fact, left that very +morning in the same red wagon which had brought the inquirer to his +door; he, Green, looking out by chance, had seen her pass. What did she +do in Valley City? Why, she taught--in fact, kept school. She had kept +school there for ten years, and he, Green, was the only one in the +neighborhood who knew it, since she--Miss Peters--wasn't much liked +about there, perhaps on account of her being a Papist. But in such +matters, he, Green, was liberal. Did she have any one with her? Yes, she +had; in fact, Miss Douglas--same young lady as was there the fore part +of the summer. No, they warn't going to stop at all in New York; going +right through to the West. Hoped there was no bad news? + +"No," replied Heathcote. + +But his monosyllable without details convinced the hearer that there +was, and before night the whole neighborhood was humming with +conjecture. The darkest of the old suspicions about mademoiselle's past +were now held to have been verified. + +Heathcote walked back to the station over the red clay road, and looked +for that boy. But Li had taken care to make good his retreat. By the +delay two trains were missed, and he was obliged to wait; when he +reached the city it was two o'clock, and it seemed to him that the +pavements had never exhaled such withering heat. His rooms were closed; +he went to the hotel, took a bath, took two, but could not recover +either his coolness or his temper. Even after dinner he was still +undecided. Should he go westward to Valley City by the ten o'clock +train? or wait till morning? or throw it all up and join the other men +at the mountains? It was a close evening. Anne was at that moment on the +ferry-boat. + +Mademoiselle had carefully misled her friend Mr. Green; so great was her +caution, so intricate her manoeuvres, that she not only never once told +him the truth, but also had taken the trouble to invent elaborate +fictions concerning herself and her school at Valley City every time she +closed the half-house and bade him good-by. The only person who knew +where she really was was the Roman Catholic priest who had charge of the +mission church at the railway-car shops three miles distant; to this +secret agent was intrusted the duty of walking over once a week, without +exciting the notice of the neighborhood, to see if the half-house +remained safe and undisturbed. For this service mademoiselle paid a +small sum each week to the mission; and it was money well earned. The +priest, a lank, lonely, sad-eyed young Irishman, with big feet in low +shoes, came down the track once in seven days to Lancaster, as if for a +walk, taking the half-house within his varying circuit, and, with the +tact of his nation and profession, never once betraying his real object. +On this occasion Jeanne-Armande had even showed Mr. Green her tickets to +Valley City: what could be surer? + +At sunset, in the city, the air grew cooler, a salt breeze came up the +harbor from the ocean, tossing bluely outside. Heathcote decided to take +another glass of wine, and the morning train. To the mountains? + +The next day he was somewhat disgustedly eating breakfast at New +Macedonia; and going through the cars an hour later, came upon Anne. He +had not expected to see her. He was as much surprised as she was. + +Why had he followed her? He could hardly have given a clear answer, save +perhaps that he was accustomed to follow his inclinations wherever they +led him, without hinderance or question. For there existed no one in the +world who had the right to question him; and therefore he was without +the habit of accounting for what he did, even to himself. It may, +perhaps, be considered remarkable that, with such a position and +training, he was, as a man, no worse than he was; that is, that he +should be so good a fellow, after all, when he had possessed such +unlimited opportunities to be a bad one. But natural refinement and fine +physical health had kept the balance from swaying far; and the +last-named influence is more powerful than is realized. Many a man of +fine mind--even genius--is with the dolts and the brutes in the great +army of the fallen, owing to a miserable, weak, and disappointing body. +Of course he should have learned, early in life, its deficiencies, +should have guarded it, withheld it and himself from exertions which to +his neighbor are naught; but he does not always learn this lesson. The +human creature who goes through his allotted course with vigorous health +and a physical presence fine enough to command the unconscious respect +of all with whom he comes in contact has no conception of the +humiliations and discouragements, the struggles and failures, which +beset the path of his weak-bodied and physically insignificant brother. +Heathcote, indolent as he was, had a superb constitution, for which and +of which, ungratefully, he had never thought long enough to be thankful. + +But why was he following Anne? + +She had told him of her engagement. Even if he could have broken that +engagement, did he wish to break it? He said to himself that it was +because his chivalry, as a man, had been stirred by the maid's story of +Miss Vanhorn's harsh words--words which he had at once construed as an +allusion to himself. Was he not partially, perhaps wholly, responsible +for her banishment? But, even if this were true, could he not have acted +through Helen, who was by far the most fitting agent? Instead of this, +here he was following her himself! + +Why? + +Simply because of one look he had had deep down into violet eyes. + +He had not expected to find her so soon. In truth, he was following in +rather a purposeless fashion, leaving much to chance, and making no +plans. They had gone to Valley City; he would go to Valley City. Perhaps +he should meet her in the street there; or perhaps he should leave a +letter; perhaps he should do neither, but merely turn round, his impulse +satisfied, and go home again. There was no need to decide now. He was on +the way; that was enough. And more than enough. + +Then, suddenly, he saw her. + +She was sitting next the aisle. He put out his hand; she gave hers, and +mechanically mentioned his name to mademoiselle, who, helmeted in her +travelling bonnet surmounted by a green veil, presented a martial front +to all beholders. There was no vacant place near; he remained standing. + +"How fortunate that I have met you!" he said, with conventional +cordiality. "The day promised to be intolerably long and dull." + +Mademoiselle, who at a glance had taken in his appearance from head to +foot as only a Frenchwoman can, inquired if he was going far, in a voice +so harmonious, compared with the bonnet, that it was an agreeable +surprise. + +"To Valley City," replied Heathcote. + +"We also are going to Valley City," said Jeanne-Armande, graciously. "It +is a pity there happens to be no vacant place near for monsieur. If some +of these good people--" Here she turned the helmet toward her neighbors +behind. + +"Pray do not give yourself any trouble," said Heathcote. "I was on my +way to the last car, hoping to find more air and space. If I am so +fortunate as to find there two vacant seats, may I not return for you? +It will be a charity to my loneliness." + +"And a pleasure, monsieur, to ourselves," said mademoiselle. + +He bowed his thanks, and glanced again at Anne. She had not spoken, and +had not looked at him since her first startled glance. But +Jeanne-Armande was gracious for two; she was charmed to have a monsieur +of such distinguished appearance standing in the aisle by their side, +and she inwardly wished that she had worn her second instead of her +third best gloves and veil. + +"Mrs. Lorrington misses you sadly," said Heathcote to the silent averted +face, more for the sake of saying something than with any special +meaning. + +A slight quiver in the downcast eyelids, but no answer. + +"She hopes that you will soon send her your address." + +"It is uncertain as yet where I shall be," murmured Anne. + +"I thought you were to be at Valley City?" + +She made no reply, but through her mind passed the thought that he could +not know, then, their real destination. He had been speaking in a low +voice; mademoiselle had not heard. But he could not carry on a +conversation long with a person who would not answer. "I will go to the +last car, and see if I can find those seats," he said, speaking to +mademoiselle, and smiling as he spoke. She thought him charming. + +As soon as he turned away, Anne said: "Please do not tell him that ours +are excursion tickets, mademoiselle. Let him think that our destination +is really Valley City." + +"Certainly, if you wish it," replied Jeanne-Armande, who had a sympathy +with all mysteries; this little speech of Anne's gave a new spice to the +day. "He is one of the circle round your grandaunt, probably?" + +"Yes; I met him at Caryl's." + +"A most distinguished personage; entirely as it should be. And did I not +overhear the name of the charming Mrs. Lorrington also?" + +"He is a friend of Helen's. I think, I am not sure, but still I think +that they are engaged," said Anne, bravely. + +"And most appropriate. I do not know when I have been more comforted +than by the culture and manner of that elegant friend of yours who +sought you out at my little residence; I hope it may be my fortunate +privilege to entertain her there again. From these two examples, I am +naturally led to think that the circle round your grandaunt is one +adjusted to that amiable poise so agreeable to the feelings of a lady." + +Anne made no reply; the circle round her grandaunt seemed to her a world +of dark and menacing terrors, from which she was fleeing with all the +speed she could summon. But, one of these terrors had followed her. + +Presently Heathcote returned. He had found two vacant seats, and the car +was much better ventilated than this one; there was no dust, and no one +was eating either pea-nuts or apples; the floor was clean; the covering +of the seats seemed to have been recently renewed. Upon hearing the +enumeration of all these advantages, mademoiselle arose immediately, and +"monsieur" was extremely attentive in the matter of carrying shawls, +packages, and baskets. But when they reached the car, they found that +the two seats were not together; one was at the end, the other separated +from it by the aisle and four intervening places. + +"I hoped that you would be kind enough to give me the pleasure of being +with you by turns," said Heathcote, gallantly, to mademoiselle, "since +it was impossible to find seats together." As he spoke, he placed +Jeanne-Armande in one of the seats, and Anne in the other; and then +gravely, but with just the scintillation of a smile in his brown eyes, +he took his own place, not beside Anne, but beside the delighted +Frenchwoman, who could scarcely believe her good fortune to be real +until she found him actually assisting her in the disposal of basket, +shawl, bag, India-rubber shoes, and precious although baggy umbrella. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + "_Philip._ Madam, a day may sink or save a realm. + _Mary._ A day may save a heart from breaking, too."--TENNYSON. + + +Mr. Heathcote retained his place beside mademoiselle through a whole +long hour. She had time to get over her fear that he would go away soon, +time to adjust her powers, time to enlarge, and to do justice to herself +and several subjects adapted elegantly and with easy grace to the +occasion. In her hard-working life she had seldom enjoyed a greater +pleasure. For Jeanne-Armande had good blood in her veins; the ends of +her poor old fingers were finely moulded, and there had been a title in +the family long ago in Berri. And when at last monsieur did go, it was +not hastily. The proper preliminaries were spoken, the first little +movement made, and then, later, the slow rising, as if with reluctance, +to the feet. Jeanne-Armande was satisfied, and smiled with honeyed +graciousness, as, after another moment's delay, he bowed and went back +to the place behind, where Anne was sitting. + +In truth, Heathcote had not been unwilling to take the hour himself; it +was not necessary to talk--Jeanne-Armande would talk for two. The sight +of Anne had been unexpected; he had not decided what he should say to +her even at Valley City, much less here. After an hour's thought, he +took his place beside her. And remarked upon--the beauty of the day. + +Dexter would have said something faultless, and all the more so if he +had wished to disguise his thoughts. But all Heathcote said was, "What a +lovely day!" + +"Yes," replied Anne. In her mind surged to and fro one constant +repetition: "Ah, my dear child, do you not see that I can not help +loving you? and that you--love me also?" "Do you not see that I can not +help loving you? and that you--love me also?" + +"They improve things, after all," said Heathcote. "The last time I went +over this road the train-boy was a poor little cripple, and therefore +one couldn't quite throw his books on the floor." This was in allusion +to the progress of a brisk youth through the car for the purpose of +depositing upon the patient knees of each passenger a paper-covered +novel, a magazine or two, and a song-book. + +--"And that you--love me also," ran Anne's thoughts, as she looked out +on the gliding fields. + +There was a silence. Then Heathcote moved nearer. + +"Anne," he said, in a low tone, "I was very much disturbed when I found +that you had gone. From the little I was able to learn, I fear you were +harshly treated by that hard old woman who calls herself your aunt." + +"Not according to her view of it," said Anne, her face still turned to +the window. + +"I wish you would look at me, instead of at those stupid fields," said +Heathcote, after a moment, in an aggrieved tone. "Here I have escaped +from Caryl's under false pretenses, told dozens of lies, spent a +broiling morning at a hole of a place called Lancaster, melted myself in +the hot city, and bought tickets for all across the continent, just for +the chance of seeing you a moment, and you will not even look at me." + +But she had turned now. "Did you go out to the half-house?" she said, +with a little movement of surprise. + +"Yes," he answered, immediately meeting her eyes, and holding them with +his own. (They had not precisely the kind of expression which is +appropriate to the man who has decided to perform the part of "merely a +kind friend." But then Heathcote always looked more than he said.) + +"I am very sorry," she murmured--"I mean, sorry that you have followed +me." + +"Why are you sorry? You do not know how distressed I was when Mrs. +Lorrington told me." + +"Helen!" said Anne, her eyes falling at the sound of the name. + +"She does not know where I am; no one knows. They think I have gone to +the mountains. But--I could not be at peace with myself, Anne, until I +had seen you once more. Do you remember the last time we met, that +morning in the garden?" She made a mute gesture which begged for +silence; but he went on: "I can never forget that look of yours. In +truth, I fear I have done all this, have come all this distance, and in +spite of myself, for--another." + +There was no one behind them; they had the last seat. Anne was thinking, +wildly, "Oh, if he would but speak in any other tone--say anything else +than that!" Then she turned, at bay. "Mrs. Lorrington told me that you +were engaged to her," she said, announcing it quietly, although her face +was very pale. + +"Did she? It is partly true. But--I love _you_, Anne." + +The last words that Ward Heathcote had intended to speak, when he took +that seat beside her, he had now spoken; the last step he had intended +to take he had now taken. What did he mean? He did not know himself. He +only knew that her face was exquisitely sweet to him, and that he was +irresistibly drawn toward her, whether he would or no. "I love you," he +repeated. + +What could be said to such a plain, direct wooer as this? Anne, holding +on desperately to her self-possession, and throwing up barriers +mentally, made of all her resolutions and duties, her pride and her +prayers, drew away, coldly answering: "However you may have forgotten +your own engagement, Mr. Heathcote, I have not forgotten mine. It is not +right for you to speak and for me to hear such words." + +"Right is nothing," said Heathcote, "if we love each other." + +"We do not," replied Anne, falling into the trap. + +"We do; at least _I_ do." + +This avowal, again repeated, was so precious to the poor humiliated +pride of the woman's heart within her that she had to pause an instant. +"I was afraid you would think," she said, blushing brightly--"I was +afraid you would think that I--I mean, that I can not help being glad +that you--" + +"That I love you? I do. But just as truly as I love you, Anne, you love +me. You can not deny it." + +"I will not discuss the subject. I shall soon be married, Mr. Heathcote, +and you--" + +"Never mind me; I can take care of myself. And so you are going to marry +a man you do not love?" + +"I do love him. I loved him long before I knew you; I shall love him +long after you are forgotten. Leave me; I will not listen to you. Why do +you speak so to me? Why did you follow me?" + +"Because, dear, I love you. I did not fully know it myself until now. +Believe me, Anne, I had no more intention of speaking in this way when I +sat down here than I had of following you when I first heard you had +gone; but the next morning I did it. Come, let everything go to the +winds, as I do, and say you love me; for I know you do." + +The tears were in Anne's eyes now; she could not see. "Let me go to +mademoiselle," she said, half rising as if to pass him. "It is cruel to +insult me." + +"Do not attract attention; sit down for one moment. I will not keep you +long; but you shall listen to me. Insult you? Did I ever dream of +insulting you? Is it an insult to ask you to be my wife? That is what I +ask now. I acknowledge that I did not follow you with any such +intention. But now that I sit here beside you, I realize what you are to +me. My darling, I love you, child as you have seemed. Look up, and tell +me that you will be my wife." + +"Never." + +"Why?" said Heathcote, not in the least believing her, but watching the +intense color flush her face and throat, and then die away. + +"I shall marry Rast. And you--will marry Helen." + +"As I said before, _I_ can take care of myself. The question is _you_." +As he spoke he looked at her so insistently that, struggling and +unwilling, she yet felt herself compelled to meet his eyes in return. + +"Helen loves you dearly," she said, desperately. + +They were looking full at each other now. In the close proximity +required by the noise of the train, they could see the varying lights +and shadows in the depths of each other's eyes. The passengers' faces +were all turned forward; there was no one on a line with them; virtually +they were alone. + +"I do not know what your object is in bringing in Mrs. Lorrington's name +so often," said Heathcote. "She does not need your championship, I +assure you." + +"How base to desert her so!" + +"Not any more base than to marry a man you do not love," replied +Heathcote. "I hardly know anything more base than that. But marry _me_, +my darling," he added, his voice softening as he bent toward her, "and +you shall see how I will love you." + +"You said I could go," said the girl, turning from him, and putting her +hand over her eyes. + +"You may go, if you are afraid. But I hardly think you a coward. No; let +us have it out now. Here you are, engaged. Here I am, half engaged. We +meet. Do you suppose I wish to love you? Not at all. You are by no means +the wife I have intended to have. Do you wish to love me? No. You wish +to be faithful to your engagement. In a worldly point of view we could +not do a more foolish deed than to marry each other. You have nothing, +and a burden of responsibilities; I have very little, and a much heavier +burden of bad habits and idleness. What is the result? By some unknown +enchantment I begin to love you, you begin to love me. The very fact +that I am sitting here to-day conclusively proves the former. I am as +fond of you as a school-boy, Anne. In truth, you have made me act like a +school-boy. This is a poor place to woo you in; but, dear, just look at +me once, only once more." + +But Anne would not look. In all her struggles and all her resolutions, +all her jealousy and her humiliation, she had made no provision against +this form of trial, namely, that he should love her like this. + +"Oh, go, go; leave me," she murmured, hardly able to speak. He gathered +the words more from the movement of her lips than from any sound. + +"I will go if you wish it. But I shall come back," he said. And then, +quietly, he left her alone, and returned to Jeanne-Armande. + +The Frenchwoman was charmed; she had not expected him so soon. She said +to herself, with a breath of satisfaction, that her conversation had +fallen in fit places. + +Alone, looking at the hills as they passed in procession, Anne collected +her scattered resolves, and fought her battle. In one way it was a sweet +moment to her. She had felt dyed with eternal shame at having given her +love unsought, uncared for; but he loved her--even if only a little, he +loved her. This was balm to her wounded heart, and diffused itself like +a glow; her cold hands grew warm, her life seemed to flow more freely. +But soon the realization followed that now she must arm herself in new +guise to resist the new temptation. She must keep her promise. She would +marry Rast, if he wished it, though the earth were moved, and the hills +carried into the midst of the sea. And Heathcote would be far happier +with Helen; his feeling for herself was but a fancy, and would pass, as +no doubt many other fancies had passed. In addition, Helen loved him; +her life was bound up in him, whether he knew it or no. Helen had been +her kindest friend; if all else were free, this alone would hold her. +"But I _am_ glad, glad to the bottom of my heart, that he did care for +me, even if only a little," she thought, as she watched the hills. "My +task is now to protect him from himself, and--and what is harder, +myself from myself. I will do it. But I _am_ glad--I am glad." Quieted, +she waited for his return. + +When he came she would speak so calmly and firmly that his words would +be quelled. He would recognize the uselessness of further speech. When +he came. But he did not come. The hills changed to cliffs, the cliffs to +mountains, the long miles grew into thirty and forty, yet he did not +return. He had risen, but did not come to her; he had gone forward to +the smoking-car. He had, in truth, caught the reflection of her face in +a mirror, and decided not to come. It is not difficult to make +resolutions; there is a fervidness in the work that elevates and +strengthens the heart. But once made, one needs to exercise them, +otherwise they grow cold and torpid on one's hands. + +Jeanne-Armande, finding herself alone, barricaded her seat with basket +and umbrella, so as to be able to return thither (and perhaps have other +conversations), and came across to Anne. + +"A most accomplished gentleman!" she said, with effusion. "Mrs. +Lorrington, charming as she is, is yet to be herself congratulated. He +has even been in Berri," she added, as though that was a chief +accomplishment, "and may have beheld with his own eyes the château of my +ancestors." Rarely indeed did Jeanne-Armande allude to this château: +persons with château ancestors might be required to sustain expenses not +in accordance with her well-arranged rules. + +"Where does this train stop?" asked Anne, with some irrelevance as to +the château. + +"At Centerville, for what they call dinner; and at Stringhampton +Junction in the evening. It is the fast express." + +"Do we meet an eastward-bound train at Centerville?" + +"I presume we do; but we shall not get out, so the crowd in the +dining-room will not incommode us. The contents of my basket will be +sufficient. But if you wish a cup of coffee, it will be eight cents. +There is a species of German cake at Centerville, remarkably filling +for the price. They bring them through the cars." + +"What time is it now?" + +"About half past twelve; we reach Centerville at two. What age has +Monsieur Heathcote, my dear?" + +"Thirty-two or thirty-three, I believe." + +"A gentleman of independent fortune, I presume?" + +"He is independent, but, I was told, not rich." + +"The position I should have supposed," said mademoiselle. "What +penetrating eyes he possesses; penetrating, yet soft. There is something +in his glance, coming from under those heavy brows, which is +particularly moving--one might almost say tender. Have you observed it?" + +Yes, Anne had observed it. + +Jeanne-Armande, protected as she supposed from indiscretion by the +engagement to the charming Mrs. Lorrington, rambled on, enjoying the +real pleasure of being sentimental and romantic, without risk, cost, or +loss of time, on this eventful day. + +"I wish you could have seen Mr. Dexter, mademoiselle," said Anne, making +an effort to turn the tide. "He is considered handsome, and he has a +large fortune--" + +"But not inherited, I presume," interposed mademoiselle, grandly. "Mr. +Heathcote, as I understand, lives upon his paternal revenues." + +If Heathcote had been there, he might have answered that he tried to, +but never succeeded. He was not there, however; and Anne could only +reply that she did not know. + +"He has undoubtedly that air," said Jeanne-Armande, faithful to her +distinguished escort, and waving away all diversions in favor of unknown +Dexters. "Do you know when they are to be married?" + +"No," said Anne, drearily, looking now at the cliffs which bounded the +narrow valley through which the train was rushing. + +"Let us hope that it will be soon; for life is short at best. Though not +romantic by nature, I own I should be pleased to possess a small portion +of the wedding cake of that amiable pair," pursued Jeanne-Armande, +fixing her eyes upon the suspended lamp of the car, lost in sentimental +reverie. + +"I think I will buy a newspaper," said Anne, as the train-boy came +toward them. + +"Buy a paper? By no means," said mademoiselle, descending hastily to +earth again. "I have yesterday's paper, which I found on the ferry-boat. +It is in good order; I smoothed it out carefully; you can read that." +She produced it from some remote pocket, and Anne took refuge in its +pages, while Jeanne-Armande closed her eyes under the helmet, no doubt +to meditate further on the picture of felicity she had called up. + +Anne felt all the weariness of long suspense. It was one o'clock; it was +half past one; it was nearly two; still he did not appear. Even +mademoiselle now roused herself, looked at her watch, and in her turn +began to ask where he could be; but she had the comfort of asking it +aloud. + +The speed was now perceptibly slackened, and the brakeman announced at +the door: "Cen--ter--ville. _Twen_--timinets for dinner," in a bar of +music not unlike a hoarse Gregorian chant. At this instant Heathcote +entered from the next car. + +"Ah! there he is," said mademoiselle, with satisfaction. "Do you think +he will partake of a little taste with us?" He joined them, and she +repeated her question in the shape of a modest allusion to the contents +of her basket. + +"No, thanks; I shall go out and walk up and down to breathe the air. But +first, will you not go with me, and see what they have? Perhaps we might +find something not altogether uneatable." + +Mademoiselle declined, with her most gracious smile. She would content +herself with the contents of her basket; but perhaps Anne-- + +The eastward-bound train was in, drawn up beside them. + +"Yes," said Anne, "I should like to go." Then, as soon as they were in +the open air, "I only wish to speak to you for a moment," she began. "I +shall not go to the dining-room." + +"Take my arm, then, and we will walk up and down." + +"Yes, let us walk," she said, moving onward. + +"We can not walk well unless you take my arm." + +"I do not wish to walk well," she answered angrily. + +He never would act according to her plan or theory. Here was all this +persistence about a trifle, while she was wrought up to matters of deep +moment. + +"I do not care whether you wish to take it or not; you must. There! +_Now_ what do you want to say to me?" He was not wrought up at all; he +was even smiling, and looking at her in the same old way. It was hard to +begin under such circumstances; but she did begin. "Mr. Heathcote, while +I thank you for all your kindness--" + +"I have not been kind; I only said that I loved you. That is either +above or below kindness, certainly not on a level with that tepid +feeling." + +But Anne would not listen, "While I thank you, I wish at the same time +to say that I understand quite well that it is but an impulse which--" + +"It _was_ but an impulse, I grant," said Heathcote, again interrupting +her, "but with roots too strong for me to break--as I have found to my +dismay," he added, smiling, as he met her eyes. + +"I wish you, I beg you, to return to New York on this train now +waiting," said the girl, abandoning all her carefully composed +sentences, and bringing forward her one desire with an earnestness which +could not be doubted. + +"I shall do nothing of the kind." + +"But what is the use of going on?" + +"I never cared much about use, Miss Douglas." + +"And then there is the pain." + +"Not for me." + +"For me, then," she said, looking away from him across the net-work of +tracks, and up the little village street ending in the blue side of the +mountain. "Putting everything else aside, do you care nothing for my +pain?" + +"I can not help caring more for the things you put aside, since _I_ +happen to be one of them." + +"You are selfish," she said, hotly. "I ask you to leave me; I tell you +your presence pains me; and you will not go." She drew her arm from his, +and turned toward the car. He lifted his hat, and went across to the +dining-hall. + +Mademoiselle was eating cold toast. She considered that toast retained +its freshness longer than plain bread. Anne sat down beside her. She +felt a hope that Heathcote would perhaps take the city-bound train after +all. She heard the bell ring, and watched the passengers hasten forth +from the dining-hall. The eastward-bound train was going--was gone; a +golden space of sunshine and the empty rails were now where had been its +noise and bell and steam. + +"Our own passengers will soon be returning," said Jeanne-Armande, +brushing away the crumbs, and looking at herself in the glass to see if +the helmet was straight. + +"May I sit here with you?" said Anne. + +"Certainly, my dear. But Mr. Heathcote--will he not be disappointed?" + +"No," replied the girl, dully. "I do not think he will care to talk to +me this afternoon." + +Jeanne-Armande said to herself that perhaps he would care to talk to +some one else. But she made no comment. + +The train moved on. An hour passed, and he did not appear. The +Frenchwoman could not conceal her disappointment. "If he intended to +leave the train at Centerville, I am surprised that he should not have +returned to make us his farewells," she said, acidly. + +"He is not always attentive to such things," said Anne. + +"On the contrary. _I_ have found him extremely attentive," retorted +mademoiselle, veering again. + +But at this stage Heathcote entered, and Anne's hope that he had left +them was dashed to the ground. He noted the situation; and then he asked +mademoiselle if she would not join him in the other seat for a while. +The flattered Frenchwoman consented, and as he followed her he gave Anne +a glance which said, "Check." And Anne felt that it was "check" indeed. + +He had no intention of troubling her; he would give her time to grow +tired. + +But she was tired already. + +At last, however, he did come. They were in plain sight now, people were +sitting behind them; she could not childishly refuse to let him take the +vacant place beside her. But at least, she thought, his words must be +guarded, or people behind would make out what he said, even from the +motion of his lips. + +But Heathcote never cared for people. + +"Dear," he said, bending toward her, "I am so glad to be with you +again!" After all, he had managed to place himself so that by supporting +his cheek with his hand, the people behind could not see his face at +all, much less make out what he said. + +Anne did not reply. + +"Won't you even look at me? I must content myself, then, with your +profile." + +"You are ungenerous," she answered, in a tone as low as his own. "It +will end in my feeling a contempt for you." + +"And I--never felt so proud of myself in all my life before. For what am +I doing? Throwing away all my fixed ideas of what life should be, for +your sake, and glad to do it." + +"Mr. Heathcote, will you never believe that I am in earnest?" + +"I know very well that you are in earnest. But I shall be equally in +earnest in breaking down the barriers between us. When that Western +lover of yours is married to some one else, and Mrs. Lorrington +likewise, _then_ shall we not be free?" + +"Helen will never marry any one else." + +"Why do you not say that Mr. Pronando never will?" + +"Because I am not sure," she answered, with sad humility. + +"Are you going to tell him all that has happened?" + +"Yes." + +"And leave the decision to him?" + +"Yes." + +"You will put yourself in a false position, then. If you really intend +to marry him, it would be safer to tell him nothing," said Heathcote, in +an impartial tone. "No man likes to hear that sort of thing, even if his +wife tells it herself. Though he may know she has loved some one else, +he does not care to have it stated in words; he would rather leave it +disembodied." Anne was looking at him; a sudden pain, which she did not +have time to conceal, showed itself in her face as he spoke. "You +darling child!" said Heathcote, laughing. "See how you look when I even +_speak_ of your marrying any one save me!" + +She shrank back, feeling the justice of his inference. Her resolution +remained unchanged; but she could not withstand entirely the personal +power of his presence. She gazed at the afternoon sunshine striking the +mountain-peaks, and asked herself how she could bear the long hours that +still lay between her and the time of release--release from this narrow +space where she must sit beside him, and feel the dangerous subtle +influence of his voice and eyes. Then suddenly an idea came to her, like +a door opening silently before a prisoner in a cell. She kept her face +turned toward the window, while rapidly and with a beating heart she +went over its possibilities. Yes, it could be done. It should be done. +With inward excitement she tried to arrange the details. + +Heathcote had fallen into silence; but he seemed quite content to sit +there beside her without speaking. At last, having decided upon her +course, and feeling nervously unable to endure his wordless presence +longer, she began to talk of Caryl's, Miss Vanhorn, mademoiselle, the +half-house--anything and everything which possessed no real importance, +and did not bear upon the subject between them. He answered her in his +brief fashion. If she wished to pad the dangerous edges of the day with +a few safe conventionalities, he had no objection; women would be +conventional on a raft in mid-ocean. The afternoon moved on toward +sunset. He thought the contest was over, that although she might still +make objection, at heart she had yielded; and he was not unwilling to +rest. Why should they hurry? The whole of life was before them. + +As night fell, they reached Stringhampton Junction, and the great engine +stopped again. The passengers hastened hungrily into the little +supper-room, and Heathcote urged mademoiselle to accompany him thither, +and taste a cup of that compound found at railway stations called Japan +tea. Jeanne-Armande looked half inclined to accept this invitation, but +Anne, answering for both, said: "No; we have all we need in our basket. +You can, however, if you will be so kind, send us some tea." This +decision being in accordance with Jeanne-Armande's own rules, she did +not like to contravene it, in spite of the satisfaction it would have +given her to enter the supper-room with her decorous brown glove +reposing upon such a coat sleeve. Heathcote bowed, and went out. Anne +watched his figure entering the doorway of the brightly lighted +supper-room, which was separated by a wide space from the waiting train. +Then she turned. + +"Mademoiselle," she said, her burning haste contrasting with her clear +calm utterance of the moment before, "I beg you to leave this train with +me without one instant's delay. The peace of my whole life depends upon +it." + +"What _can_ you mean?" said the bewildered teacher. + +"I can not explain now; I will, later. But if you have any regard for +me, any compassion, come at once." + +"But our bags, our--" + +"I will take them all." + +"And our trunks--they are checked through to Valley City. Will there be +time to take them off?" said Jeanne-Armande, confusedly. Then, with more +clearness, "But why should we go at all? I have no money to spend on +freaks." + +[Illustration: "IT IS, OR SHOULD BE, OVER THERE."] + +"This is Stringhampton Junction; we can cross here to the northern road, +as you originally intended," explained Anne, rapidly. "All the +additional expense I will pay. Dear mademoiselle, have pity on me, +and come. Else I shall go alone." + +The voice was eloquent; Jeanne-Armande rose. Anne hurried her through +the almost empty car toward the rear door. + +"But where _are_ we going?" + +"Out of the light," answered Anne. + +They climbed down in the darkness on the other side of the train, and +Anne led the way across the tracks at random, until they reached a safe +country road-side beyond, and felt the soft grass under their feet. + +"Where _are_ we going?" said the Frenchwoman again, almost in tears. +"Monsieur Heathcote--what will he think of us?" + +"It is from him I am fleeing," replied Anne. "And now we must find the +cross-road train. Do you know where it is?" + +"It is, or should be, over there," said Jeanne-Armande, waving her +umbrella tragically. + +But she followed: the young girl had turned leader now. + +They found the cross-road train, entered, and took their seats. And then +Anne feverishly counted the seconds, expecting with each one to see +Heathcote's face at the door. But the little branch train did not wait +for supper; the few passengers were already in their places, and at last +the bell rang, and the engine started northward, but so slowly that Anne +found herself leaning forward, as though to hasten its speed. Then the +wheels began to turn more rapidly--clank, clank, past the switches; +rumble, rumble, over the bridge; by the dark line of the wood-pile; and +then onward into the dark defiles of the mountains. They were away. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + "How heavy do I journey on the way + When what I seek, my weary travel's end, + Doth teach that ease and that repose to say, + 'Thus far the miles are measured from my friend.'" + + --_Shakspeare's Sonnets._ + + +In the mean time Ward Heathcote was in the supper-room. After selecting +the best that the little country station afforded, and feeing a servant +to take it across to the train, he sat down to eat a nondescript meal +with some hunger. + +The intelligent mulatto boy who carried the waiter consumed as many +minutes as possible in his search for "the two ladies in that car, on +the right-hand side opposite the fourth window," who, plainly, were not +there. He had the fee in his pocket, there would not be another, and the +two "suppers" were paid for. It was decidedly a case for delay. He +waited, therefore, until the warning bell rang, and he was then +encountered in hot haste hurrying to meet his patron, the waiter still +balanced on his shoulder. + +"No ladies there, sah. Looked everywhere fur 'em, sah." + +There was no time for further parley. Heathcote hurried forward, and the +train started. They must be there, of course; probably the cars had been +changed or moved forward while the train was waiting. But although he +went from end to end of the long file of carriages, he found no one. +They were under full headway now; the great engine did not need gradual +beginnings. He could not bring himself to ask questions of the +passengers whose faces he remembered in the same car; they would open +upon him a battery of curiosity in return. He went to the rear door, +opened it, and looked out; the two grime-encircled eyes of a brakeman +met his gravely. He stepped outside, closed the door, and entered into +conversation with the eyes. + +Yes, he seed two ladies get off; they come out this here end door, and +climbed down on the wrong side. Seemed to be in a hurry. Didn't know +where they went. Called after 'em that that warn't the way to the +dining-room, and the young one said, "Thanks," but didn't say no more. +Was they left behind? No, train didn't stop this side of Valley City; +but the gentleman could telegraph back, and they could come on safe and +sound in the morning express. 'Twarn't likely they'd gone north by the +little branch road, was it? Branch connects at Stringhampton for the +Northern Line. + +But this suggestion made no impression upon Heathcote. Mademoiselle +lived in Valley City; he had seen her tickets for Valley City. No, it +was some unlooked-for mistake or accident. He gave the brakeman a +dollar, and went back into the car. But everything was gone--bags, +shawls, basket, cloak, bundle, and umbrella, all the miscellaneous +possessions with which mademoiselle was accustomed to travel; there had +been, then, deliberation enough to collect them all. He sat down +perplexed, and gradually the certainty stole coldly over him that Anne +had fled. It must be this. + +For it was no freak of the Frenchwoman's; she had been too much pleased +with his escort to forego it willingly. He was deeply hurt. And deeply +surprised. Had he not followed her to ask her to be his wife? (This was +not true, but for the moment he thought it was.) Was this a proper +response? + +Never before had he received such a rebuff, and after brooding over it +an hour in the dismal car, it grew into an insult. His deeper feelings +were aroused. Under his indolence he had a dominant pride, even +arrogance of nature, which would have astonished many who thought they +knew him. Whether his words had or had not been the result of impulse, +now that they were spoken, they were worthy of at least respect. He grew +more angry as the minutes passed, for he was so deeply hurt that he took +refuge in anger. To be so thwarted and played upon--he, a man of the +world--by a young girl; a young girl regarding whom, too, there had +sprung up in his heart almost the only real faith of his life! He had +believed in that face, had trusted those violet eyes, he did not know +how unquestioningly until now. And then, feeling something very like +moisture coming into his own eyes, he rose, angry over his weakness, +went forward to the smoking car, lit a cigar, and savagely tried to +think of other things. A pretty fool he was to be on a night train in +the heart of Pennsylvania, going no one knew whither. + +But, in spite of himself, his mind stole back to Anne. She was so +different from the society women with whom he had always associated; she +had so plainly loved him. Poor, remorseful, conscientious, struggling, +faithful heart! Why had she fled from him? It did not occur to him that +she was fleeing from herself. + +He arrived at Valley City at eleven o'clock, and had the very room with +gaudy carpet he had pictured to himself. The next morning, disgusted +with everything and out of temper as he was, he yet so far postponed his +return journey as to make inquiries concerning schools for girls--one in +particular, in which a certain Mademoiselle Pitre had been teaching +French and music for several years. The clerk thought it must be the +"Young Ladies' Seminary." Heathcote took down the address of this +establishment, ordered a carriage, and drove thither, inquiring at the +door if Mademoiselle Pitre had arrived. + +There was no such person there, the maid answered. No; he knew that she +had not yet arrived. But when was she expected? + +The maid (who admired the stranger) did not take it upon herself to deny +his statement, but went away, and returned with the principal, Professor +Adolphus Bittinger. Professor Bittinger was not acquainted with +Mademoiselle Pitre. Their instructress in the French language was named +Blanchard, and was already there. Heathcote then asked if there were any +other young ladies' seminaries in Valley City, and was told (loftily) +that there were not. No schools where French was taught? There might +be, the professor thought, one or two small establishments for day +scholars. The visitor wrote down the new addresses, and drove away to +visit four day schools in succession, sending a ripple of curiosity down +the benches, and exciting a flutter in the breasts of four French +teachers, who came in person to answer the inquiries of monsieur. One of +them, a veteran in the profession, who had spent her life in asking +about the loaf made by the distant one-eyed relative of the baker, +answered decidedly that there was no such person in Valley City. +"Monsieur" was beginning to think so himself; but having now the fancy +to exhaust all the possibilities, he visited the infant schools, and a +private class, and at two o'clock returned to the hotel, having seen +altogether about five hundred young Americans in frocks, from five years +old to seventeen. + +According to the statement of the little shop-keeper at Lancaster, +mademoiselle had been teaching in Valley City for a number of years: +there remained, then, the chance that she was in a private family as +governess. Heathcote lingered in Valley City three days longer on this +governess chance. He ate three more dinners in the comfortless +dining-room, slept three more nights in the gaudy bedroom, and was at +the railway station five times each day, to wit, at the hours when the +trains arrived from the east. If they had waited at Stringhampton until +he had had time to return to New York, they would be coming on now. But +no one came. The fourth day opened with dull gray rain; the smoke of the +manufactories hung over the valley like a pall. In the dining-room there +was a sour odor of fresh paint, and from the window he could see only a +line of hacks, the horses standing in the rain with drooping heads, +while the drivers, in a row against an opposite wall, looked, in their +long oil-skin coats, as though they were drawn up there in their black +shrouds to be shot. In a fit of utter disgust he rang for his bill, +ordered a carriage, and drove to the station: he would take the morning +train for New York. + +Yet when the carriage was dismissed, he let the express roll away +without him, while he walked to and fro, waiting for an incoming train. +The train was behind time; when it did come, there was no one among its +passengers whom he had ever seen before. With an anathema upon his own +folly, he took the day accommodation eastward. He would return to New +York without any more senseless delays. And then at Stringhampton +Junction he was the only person who alighted. His idea was to make +inquiries there. He spent two hours of that afternoon in the rain, under +a borrowed umbrella, and three alone in the waiting-room. No such +persons as he described had been seen at Stringhampton, and as the +settlement was small, and possessed of active curiosity, there remained +no room for doubt. There was the chance that they had followed him to +Valley City an hour later on a freight train with car attached, in which +case he had missed them. And there was the other chance that they had +gone northward by the branch road. But why should they go northward? +They lived in Valley City, or near there; their tickets were marked +"Valley City." The branch led to the Northern Line, by which one could +reach Chicago, St. Louis, Omaha, the wilderness, but not Valley City. +The gentleman might go up as far as the Northern Line, and inquire of +the station agent there, suggested the Stringhampton ticket-seller, who +balanced a wooden tooth-pick in his mouth lightly, like a cigarette. But +the gentleman, who had already been looking up the narrow line of wet +rails under his umbrella for an hour, regarded the speaker menacingly, +and turned away with the ironical comment in his own mind that the +Northern Line and its station agent might be--what amounted to +Calvinized--before _he_ sought them. + +The night express came thundering along at midnight. It bore away the +visitor. Stringhampton saw him no more. + +In the mean time Anne and her companion had ridden on during the night, +and the younger woman had explained to the elder as well as she could +the cause of her sudden action. "It was not right that I should hear or +that he should speak such words." + +"He had but little time in which to speak them," said Jeanne-Armande, +stiffly. "He spent most of the day with me. But, in any case, why run +away? Why could you not have repelled him quietly, and with the proper +dignity of a lady, and yet remained where you were, comfortably, and +allowed me to remain as well?" + +"I _could_ not," said Anne. Then, after a moment, "Dear mademoiselle," +she added, "do not ask me any more questions. I have done wrong, and I +have been very, very unhappy. It is over now, and with your help I hope +to have a long winter of quiet and patient labor. I am grateful to you; +you do not know how grateful. Save those far away on the island, you +seem to me now the only friend I have on earth." Her voice broke. + +Jeanne-Armande's better feelings were touched. "My poor child!" she +said, pityingly. + +And then Anne laid her head down upon the Frenchwoman's shoulder, and +sobbed as if her heart would break. + +They reached Weston the next day. The journey was ended. + +Mademoiselle selected new lodgings, in a quarter which overlooked the +lake. She never occupied the same rooms two seasons in succession, lest +she should be regarded as "an old friend," and expected to make +concessions accordingly. On the second day she called ceremoniously upon +the principal of the school, sending in her old-fashioned glazed card, +with her name engraved upon it, together with a minute "Paris" in one +corner. To this important personage she formally presented her +candidate, endowing her with so large a variety of brilliant qualities +and accomplishments that the candidate was filled with astonishment, and +came near denying them, had she not been prevented by the silent meaning +pressure of a gaiter that divined her intention, and forbade the +revelation. Fortunately an under-teacher was needed, and half an hour +later Anne went away, definitely, although at a very small salary, +engaged. + +She went directly home, locked her door, took paper and pen, and began +to write. "Dear Rast," she wrote. Then, with a flood of remorseful +affection, "Dear, dear Rast." Her letter was a long one, without break +or hesitation. She told him all save names, and asked him to forgive +her. If he still loved her and wished her to be his wife, she was ready; +in truth, she seemed almost to urge the marriage, that is, if he still +loved her. When the letter was completed she went out and placed it in a +letter-box with her own hands, coming home with a conscience more free. +She had done what she could. The letter was sent to the island, where +Rast still was when she had heard from him the last time before leaving +Caryl's; for only seven days had passed since then. They seemed seven +years. + +A day later she wrote to Miss Lois, telling of Miss Vanhorn's action, +her new home and change of position. She said nothing of her letter to +Rast or the story it told; she left that to him to relate or not as he +pleased. In all things he should be now her master. + +When this second letter was sent, she asked herself whether she could +write to Helen. But instantly the feeling came surging over her that she +could not. In addition there was the necessity of keeping her new abode +hidden. No one knew were mademoiselle was, and the younger woman had now +the benefit of that carefully woven mystery. She was safe. She must not +disturb that safety. + +To one other person she felt that she must write, namely, Miss Vanhorn. +Harsh as had been the treatment she had received, it came from her +mother's aunt. She wrote, therefore, briefly, stating that she had +obtained a teacher's place, but without saying where it was. This +letter, inclosed in another envelope, was sent to a friend of +Jeanne-Armande in Boston, and mailed from that city. Anne had written +that a letter sent to the Boston address, which she inclosed, would be +immediately forwarded to her. But no reply came. Old Katharine never +forgave. + +The school opened; the young teacher had a class of new scholars. To her +also were given the little brothers who were allowed to mingle with the +flock until they reached the age of eleven, when they were banished to +rougher trials elsewhere; to these little boys she taught Latin grammar, +and the various pursuits in the imperfect tense of those two well-known +grammar worthies, Caius and Balbus. Jeanne-Armande had not failed to +proclaim far and wide her candidate's qualifications as to vocal music. +"A pupil of Belzini," she remarked, with a stately air, "was not often +to be obtained so far inland." The principal, a clear-headed Western +woman, with a keen sense of humor, perceived at once (although smiling +at it) the value of the phrase. It was soon in circulation. And it was +understood that at Christmas-time the pupil of Belzini, who was not +often to be obtained so far inland, would assume charge of the music +class, and lift it to a plane of Italian perfection hitherto unattained. + +The autumn opened. Anne, walking on the lake shore at sunset, saw the +vessels steal out from port one by one, and opening white sails, glide +away in the breeze of evening silently as spirits. Then came the colored +leaves. The town, even in its meanest streets, was now so beautiful that +the wonder was that the people did not leave their houses, and live +out-of-doors altogether, merely to gaze; every leaf was a flower, and +brighter than the brightest blossom. Then came a wild storm, tearing the +splendor from the branches in a single night; in the morning, November +rain was falling, and all was desolate and bare. But after this, the +last respite, came Indian summer. + +If there is a time when the American of to-day recalls the red-skinned +men who preceded him in this land he now calls his own, it is during +these few days of stillness and beauty which bear the name of the +vanished race. Work is over in the fields, they are ready for their +winter rest; the leaves are gone, the trees are ready too. The last red +apple is gathered; men and the squirrels together have gleaned the last +nut. There is nothing more to be done; and he who with a delicate +imagination walks abroad, or drives slowly along country roads, finds +himself thinking, in the stillness, of those who roved over this same +ground not many years ago, and tardily gathering in at this season their +small crops of corn beside the rivers, gave to the beautiful +golden-purple-hued days the name they bear. Through the naked woods he +sees them stealing, bow in hand; on the stream he sees their birch-bark +canoes; the smoke in the atmosphere must surely rise from their hidden +camp fires. They have come back to their old haunts from the happy +hunting grounds for these few golden days. Is it not the Indian summer? +The winter came early, with whirling snow followed by bitter cold. Ice +formed; navigation was over until spring. Anne had heard from Dr. Gaston +and Miss Lois, but not from Rast. For Rast had gone; he had started on +his preliminary journey through the western country, where he proposed +to engage in business enterprises, although their nature remained as yet +vague. The chaplain wrote that a letter addressed to Erastus in her +handwriting had been brought to him the day after the youth's departure, +and that he had sent it to the frontier town which was to be his first +stopping-place. Erastus had written to her the day before his departure, +but the letter had of course gone to Caryl's. Miss Vanhorn, without +doubt, would forward it to her niece. The old man wrote with an effort +to appear cheerful, but he confessed that he missed his two children +sadly. The boys were well, and Angélique was growing pretty. In another +year it would be better that she should be with her sister; it was +somewhat doubtful whether Miss Lois understood the child. + +Miss Lois's letter was emphatic, beginning and ending with her opinion +of Miss Vanhorn in the threefold character of grandaunt, Christian, and +woman. She was able to let out her feelings at last, unhindered by the +now-withdrawn allowance. The old bitter resentment against the woman who +had slighted William Douglas found vent, and the characterization was +withering and picturesque. When she had finished the arraignment, trial, +and execution, at least in words, she turned at last to the children; +and here it was evident that her pen paused and went more slowly. The +boys, she hoped (rather as a last resort), were "good-hearted." She had +but little trouble, comparatively, with Tita now; the child was very +attentive to her lessons, and had been over to Père Michaux at his +hermitage almost every other day. The boys went sometimes; and Erastus +had been kind enough to accompany the children, to see that they were +not drowned. And then, dropping the irksome theme, Miss Lois dipped her +pen in romance, and filled the remainder of her letter with praise of +golden-haired Rast, not so much because she herself loved him, as +because Anne did. For the old maid believed with her whole heart in this +young affection which had sprung into being under her fostering care, +and looked forward to the day when the two should kneel together before +Dr. Gaston in the little fort chapel, to receive the solemn benediction +of the marriage service, as the happiest remaining in her life on earth. +Anne read the fervid words with troubled heart. If Rast felt all that +Miss Lois said he felt, if he had borne as impatiently as Miss Lois +described their present partial separation, even when he was sure of her +love, how would he suffer when he read her letter! She looked forward +feverishly to the arrival of his answer; but none came. The delay was +hard to bear. + +Dr. Gaston wrote a second time. Rast had remained but a day at the first +town, and not liking it, had gone forward. Not having heard from Anne, +he sent, inclosed to the chaplain's care, a letter for her. With nervous +haste she opened it; but it contained nothing save an account of his +journey, with a description of the frontier village--"shanties, drinking +saloons, tin cans, and a grave-yard already. This will never do for a +home for us. I shall push on farther." The tone of the letter was +affectionate, as sure as ever of her love. Rast had always been sure of +that. She read the pages sadly; it seemed as if she was willfully +deceiving him. Where was her letter, the letter that told all? She wrote +to the postmaster of the first town, requesting him to return it. After +some delay, she received answer that it had been sent westward to +another town, which the person addressed, namely, Erastus Pronando, had +said should be his next stopping-place. But a second letter from Rast, +sent also to the chaplain's care, had mentioned passing through that +very town without stopping--"it was such an infernal den"; and again +Anne wrote, addressing the second postmaster, and asking for the letter. +This postmaster replied, after some tardiness, owing to his conflicting +engagements as politician, hunter, and occasionally miner, that the +letter described had been forwarded to the Dead-letter Office. This +correspondence occupied October and November; and during this time Rast +was still roaming through the West, writing frequently, but sending no +permanent address. Now rumors of a silver mine attracted him; now it was +a scheme for cattle-raising; now speculation in lands along the line of +the coming railway It was impossible to follow him--and in truth he did +not wish to be followed. He was tasting his first liberty. He meant to +look around the world awhile before choosing his home: not long, only +awhile. Still, awhile. + +The chaplain added a few lines of his own when he sent these letters to +Anne. Winter had seized them; they were now fast fettered; the mail came +over the ice. Miss Lois was kind, and sometimes came up to regulate his +housekeeping; but nothing went as formerly. His coffee was seldom good; +and he found himself growing peevish--at least his present domestic, a +worthy widow named McGlathery, had remarked upon it. But Anne must not +think the domestic was in fault; he had reason to believe that she meant +well even when she addressed him on the subject of his own +short-comings. And here the chaplain's old humor peeped through, as he +added, quaintly, that poor Mistress McGlathery's health was far from +strong, she being subject to "inward tremblings," which tremblings she +had several times described to him with tears in her eyes, while he had +as often recommended peppermint and ginger, but without success; on the +contrary, she always went away with a motion of the skirts and a manner +as to closing the door which, the chaplain thought, betokened offense. +Anne smiled over these letters, and then sighed. If she could only be +with him again--with them all! She dreamed at night of the old man in +his arm-chair, of Miss Lois, of the boys, of Tita curled in her furry +corner, which she had transferred, in spite of Miss Lois's +remonstrances, to the sitting-room of the church-house. Neither Tita nor +Père Michaux had written; she wondered over their new silence. + +Anne's pupils had, of course, exhaustively weighed and sifted the new +teacher, and had decided to like her. Some of them decided to adore her, +and expressed their adoration in bouquets, autograph albums, and various +articles in card-board supposed to be of an ornamental nature. They +watched her guardedly, and were jealous of every one to whom she spoke; +she little knew what a net-work of plots, observation, mines and +countermines, surrounded her as patiently she toiled through each long +monotonous day. These adorations of school-girls, although but +unconscious rehearsals of the future, are yet real while they last; +Anne's adorers went sleepless if by chance she gave especial attention +to any other pupil. The adored one meanwhile did not notice these little +intensities; her mind was absorbed by other thoughts. + +Four days before Christmas two letters came; one was her own to Rast, +returned at last from the Dead-letter Office; the other was from Miss +Lois, telling of the serious illness of Dr. Gaston. The old chaplain had +had a stroke of paralysis, and Rast had been summoned; fortunately his +last letter had been from St. Louis, to which place he had unexpectedly +returned, and therefore they had been able to reach him by message to +Chicago and a telegraphic dispatch. Dr. Gaston wished to see him; the +youth had been his ward as well as almost child, and there were business +matters to be arranged between them. Anne's tears fell as she read of +her dear old teacher's danger, and the impulse came to her to go to him +at once. Was she not his child as well as Rast? But the impulse was +checked by the remainder of the letter. Miss Lois wrote, sadly, that she +had tried to keep it from Anne, but had not succeeded: since August her +small income had been much reduced, owing to the failure of a New +Hampshire bank, and she now found that with all her effort they could +not quite live on what was left. "Very nearly, dear child. I think, with +_thirty_ dollars, I can manage until spring. Then everything will be +_cheaper_. I should not have kept it from you if it had not happened at +the _very time_ of your trouble with that _wicked old woman_, and I did +not wish to add to your care. But the boys have what is called _fine_ +appetites (I wish they were not quite so 'fine'), and of course _this_ +winter, and never before, my provisions were spoiled in my own cellar." + +Anne had intended to send to Miss Lois all her small savings on +Christmas-day. She now went to the principal of the school, asked that +the payment of her salary might be advanced, and forwarded all she was +able to send to the poverty-stricken little household in the +church-house. That night she wept bitter tears; the old chaplain was +dying, and she could not go to him; the children were perhaps suffering. +For the first time in a life of poverty she felt its iron hand crushing +her down. Her letter to Rast lay before her; she could not send it now +and disturb the last hours on earth of their dear old friend. She laid +it aside and waited--waited through those long hours of dreary suspense +which those must bear who are distant from the dying beds of their loved +ones. + +In the mean time Rast had arrived. Miss Lois wrote of the chaplain's joy +at seeing him. The next letter contained the tidings that death had +come; early in the morning, peacefully, with scarcely a sigh, the old +man's soul had passed from earth. Colonel Bryden, coming in soon +afterward, and looking upon the calm face, had said, gently, + + "Then steal away, give little warning, + Choose thine own time; + Say not good-night, but, in some brighter clime, + Bid me good-morning." + +When Anne knew that the funeral was over, that another grave had been +made under the snow in the little military cemetery, and that, with the +strange swiftness which is so hard for mourning hearts to realize, daily +life was moving on again in the small island circle where the kind old +face would be seen no more, she sent her letter, the same old letter, +unaltered and travel-worn. Then she waited. She could not receive her +answer before the eighth or ninth day. But on the fifth came two +letters; on the seventh, three. The first were from Miss Lois and Mrs. +Bryden; the others from Tita, Père Michaux, and--Rast. And the +extraordinary tidings they brought were these: Rast had married Tita. +The little sister was now his wife. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + "A slave had long worn a chain upon his ankle. By the order of his + master it was removed. 'Why dost thou spring aloft and sing, O + slave? Surely the sun is as fierce and thy burden as heavy as + before.' The slave replied: 'Ten times the sun and the burden would + seem light, now that the chain is removed.'"--_From the Arabic._ + + +Miss Lois's letter was a wail: + +"MY POOR DEAR OUTRAGED CHILD,--What _can_ I say to you? There is no use +in trying to _prepare_ you for it, since you would never _conceive_ such +_double-dyed_ blackness of heart! Tita has _run away_. She slipped off +clandestinely, and they think she has followed _Rast_, who left +yesterday on his way back to St. Louis and the West. Père Michaux has +followed _her_, saying that if he found them together he should, acting +as Tita's guardian, insist upon a _marriage_ before he returned! He +feels himself responsible for _Tita_, he says, and paid no attention +when I asked him if no one was to be responsible for _you_! My poor +child, it seems that I have been blind all along; I never _dreamed_ of +what was going on. The little minx deceived me completely. I thought her +so much improved, so studious, while all the time she was meeting +Erastus, or planning to meet him, with a skill far beyond _my_ +comprehension. All last summer, they tell me, she was with him +constantly; those daily journeys to Père Michaux's island were for that +purpose, while I supposed they were for prayers. What _Erastus_ thought +or meant, no one seems to know; but they all combined in declaring that +the child (child no longer!) was deeply in love with him, and that +everybody saw it save _me_. My New England blood could not, I am proud +to say, grasp it! You know, my poor darling, the opinion I have _always_ +had concerning Tita's mother, who slyly and artfully inveigled your +honored father into a _trap_. Tita has therefore but followed in her +mother's footsteps. + +"That Erastus has ever _cared_, or cares now in the least, for her, save +as a plaything, I will _never_ believe. But Père Michaux is like a +_mule_ for stubbornness, as you know, and I fear he will marry them in +_any_ case. He did not seem to think of _you_ at all, and when I said, +'Anne will _die_ of grief!' he only smiled--yes, _smiled_--and Frenchly +shrugged his shoulders! My poor child, I have but little hope, because +if he appeals to Erastus's _honor_, what can the boy do? He is the soul +of honor. + +"I can hardly write, my brain has been so overturned. To think that +_Tita_ should have outwitted us all at her age, and gained her point +over everything, over you and over Rast--poor, poor Rast, who will be so +_miserably_ sacrificed! I will write again to-morrow; but if Père +Michaux carries out his strange _Jesuitical_ design, you will hear from +him probably before you can hear again from me. Bear up, my dearest +Anne. I acknowledge that, so far, I have found it difficult to see the +Divine purpose in this, unless indeed it be to inform us that we are all +but cinders and ashes; which, however, I for one have long known." + +Mrs. Bryden's letter: + +"DEAR ANNE,--I feel drawn toward you more closely since the illness and +death of our dear Dr. Gaston, who loved you so tenderly, and talked so +much of you during his last days with us. It is but a short time since I +wrote to you, giving some of the messages he left, and telling of his +peaceful departure; but now I feel that I must write again upon a +subject which is painful, yet one upon which you should have, I think, +all the correct details immediately. Miss Hinsdale is no doubt writing +to you also; but she does not know all. She has not perceived, as we +have, the gradual approaches to this catastrophe--I can call it by no +other name. + +"When you went away, your half-sister was a child. With what has seemed +lightning rapidity she has grown to womanhood, and for months it has +been plainly evident that she was striving in every way to gain and hold +the attention of Erastus Pronando. He lingered here almost all summer, +as you will remember; Tita followed him everywhere. Miss Hinsdale, +absorbed in the cares of housekeeping, knew nothing of it; but daily, on +one pretext or another, they were together. Whether Erastus was +interested I have no means of knowing; but that Tita is now extremely +pretty in a certain style, and that she was absorbed in him, we could +all see. It was not our affair; yet we might have felt called upon to +make it ours if it had not been for Père Michaux. He was her constant +guardian. + +"Erastus went away yesterday in advance of the mail-train. He bade us +all good-by, and I am positive that he had no plan, not even a suspicion +of what was to follow. We have a new mail-carrier this winter, Denis +being confined to his cabin with rheumatism. Tita must have slipped away +unperceived, and joined this man at dusk on the ice a mile or two below +the island; her track was found this morning. Erastus expected to join +the mail-train to-day, and she knew it, of course; the probability is, +therefore, that they are now together. It seems hardly credible that so +young a head could have arranged its plans so deftly; yet it is +certainly true that, even if Rast wished to bring her back, he could not +do so immediately, not until the up-train passed them. Père Michaux +started after them this morning, travelling in his own sledge. He thinks +(it is better that you should know it, Anne) that Erastus _is_ fond of +Tita, and that only his engagement to you has held him back. Now that +the step has been taken, he has no real doubt but that Rast himself will +wish to marry her, and without delay. + +"All this will seem very strange to you, my dear child; but I trust it +will not be so hard a blow as Miss Hinsdale apprehends. Père Michaux +told me this morning in so many words: 'Anne has never loved the boy +with anything more than the affection of childhood. It will be for her a +release.' He was convinced of this, and went off on his journey with +what looked very much like gladness. I hope, with all my heart, that he +is right." Then, with a few more words of kindly friendship, the letter +ended. + +The other envelope bore the rude pen-and-ink postmark of a Northwestern +lumber settlement, where travellers coming down, from the North in the +winter over the ice and snow met the pioneer railway, which had pushed +its track to that point before the blockade of the cold began. + +Tita's letter: + +"DEEREST SISTER,--You will not I am sure blaime your little Tita for +following the impulse of her _hart_. Since you were hear I have grown up +and it is the truth that Rast has loved me for _yeers_ of his own accord +and because he could not help it--deerest sister who can. But he never +ment to break his word to you and he tryed not to but was devowered by +his love for me and you will forgive him deerest sister will you not +since there is no more hope for you as we were married by Père Michaux +an hour ago who approved of all and has hartily given us his +bennydiction. Since my spiritual directeur has no reproche you will not +have enny I am sure and remain your loving sister, + +ANGÉLIQUE PRONANDO." + +"P. S. We go to Chicago to-day. Enny money for _close_ for me could be +sent to the Illinois Hotel, where my deerest husband says we are to +stay. + +A. P." + +Père Michaux's letter: + +"DEAR ANNE,--It is not often that I speak so bluntly as I shall speak +now. In marrying, this morning, your half-sister Angélique to Erastus +Pronando I feel that I have done you a great service. You did not love +him with the real love of a nature like yours--the love that will +certainly come to you some day; perhaps has already come. I have always +known this, and, in accordance with it, did all I could to prevent the +engagement originally. I failed; but this day's work has made up for the +failure. + +"Angélique has grown into a woman. She is also very beautiful, after a +peculiar fashion of her own. All the strength of her nature, such as it +is, is concentrated upon the young man who is now her husband. From +childhood she has loved him; she was bitterly jealous of you even before +you went away. I have been aware of this, but until lately I was not +sure of Rast. Her increasing beauty, however, added to her intense +absorbed interest in him, has conquered. Seeing this, I have watched +with satisfaction the events of the past summer, and have even assisted +somewhat (and with a clear conscience) in their development. + +"Erastus, even if you had loved him, Anne, could not have made you +happy. And neither would you have made him happy; for he is +quick-witted, and he would have inevitably, and in spite of all your +tender humility, my child, discovered your intellectual superiority, and +in time would have angrily resented it. For he is vain; his nature is +light; he needs adulation in order to feel contented. On the other hand, +he is kind-hearted and affectionate, and to Tita will be a demi-god +always. The faults that would have been death to you, she will never +see. She is therefore the fit wife for him. + +"You will ask, Does he love her? I answer, Yes. When he came back to the +island, and found her so different, the same elfish little creature, but +now strangely pretty, openly fond of him, following him everywhere, with +the words of a child but the eyes of a woman, he was at first surprised, +then annoyed, then amused, interested, and finally fascinated. He +struggled against it. I give him the due of justice--he did struggle. +But Tita was always _there_. He went away hurriedly at the last, and if +it had not been for Dr. Gaston's illness and his own recall to the +island, it might not have gone farther. Tita understood this as well as +I did; she made the most of her time. Still, I am quite sure that he had +no suspicion she intended to follow him; the plan was all her own. She +did follow him. And I followed her. I caught up with them that very day +at sunset, and an hour ago I married them. If you have not already +forgiven me, Anne, you will do so some day. I have no fear. I can wait. +I shall go on with them as far as Chicago, and then, after a day or two, +I shall return to the island. Do not be disturbed by anything Miss Lois +may write. She has been blindly mistaken from the beginning. In truth, +there is a vein of obstinate weakness on some subjects in that otherwise +estimable woman, for which I have always been at a loss to account." + +Ah, wise old priest, there are some things too deep for even you to +know! + +Rast's letter was short. It touched Anne more than any of the others: + +"What must you think of me, Annet? Forgive me, and forget me. I _did_ +try. But would you have cared for a man who had to try? When I think of +you I scorn myself. But she is the sweetest, dearest, most winning +little creature the world ever saw; and my only excuse is that--I love +her. + +E. P." + +These few lines, in which the young husband made out no case for +himself, sought no shield in the little bride's own rashness, but simply +avowed his love, and took all the responsibility upon himself, pleased +the elder sister. It was manly. She was glad that Tita had a defender. + +She had read these last letters standing in the centre of her room, +Jeanne-Armande anxiously watching her from the open door. The +Frenchwoman had poured out a glass of water, and had it in readiness: +she thought that perhaps Anne was going to faint. With no distinct idea +of what had happened, she had lived in a riot of conjecture for two +days. + +But instead of fainting, Anne, holding the letters in her hand, turned +and looked at her. + +"Well, dear, will you go to bed?" she said, solicitously. + +"Why should I go to bed?" + +"I thought perhaps you had heard--had heard bad news." + +"On the contrary," replied Anne, slowly and gravely, "I am afraid, +mademoiselle, that the news is good--even very good." + +For her heart had flown out of its cage and upward as a freed bird darts +up in the sky. The bond, on her side at least, was gone; she was free. +_Now_ she would live a life of self-abnegation and labor, but without +inward thralldom. Women had lived such lives before she was born, women +would live such lives after she was dead. She would be one of the +sisterhood, and coveting nothing of the actual joy of love, she would +cherish only the ideal, an altar-light within, burning forever. The +cares of each day were as nothing now: she was free, free! + +In her exaltation she did not recognize as wrong the opposite course she +had intended to follow before the lightning fell, namely, uniting +herself to one man while so deeply loving another. She was of so humble +and unconscious a spirit regarding herself that it had not seemed to her +that the inner feelings of her heart would be of consequence to Rast, so +long as she was the obedient, devoted, faithful wife she was determined +with all her soul to be. For she had not that imaginative egotism which +so many women possess, which makes them spend their lives in illusion, +weaving round their every thought and word an importance which no one +else can discern. According to these women, there are a thousand +innocent acts which "he" (lover or husband) "would not for an instant +allow," although to the world at large "he" appears indifferent enough. +They go through long turmoil, from which they emerge triumphantly, +founded upon some hidden jealousy which "he" is supposed to feel, so +well hidden generally, and so entirely supposed, that persons with less +imagination never observe it. But after all, smile as we may, it is only +those who are in most respects happy and fortunate wives who can so +entertain themselves. For cold unkindness, or a harsh and brutal word, +will rend this filmy fabric of imagination immediately, never to be +rewoven again. + +Anne wrote to Rast, repeating the contents of the old letter, which had +been doomed never to reach him. She asked him to return the wanderer +unopened when it was forwarded to him from the island; there was a depth +of feeling in it which it was not necessary now that he should see. She +told him that her own avowal should lift from him all the weight of +wrong-doing; she had first gone astray. "We were always like brother and +sister, Rast; I see it now. It is far better as it is." + +A few days later Père Michaux wrote again, and inclosed a picture of +Tita. The elder sister gazed at it curiously. This was not Tita; and yet +those were her eyes, and that the old well-remembered mutinous +expression still lurking about the little mouth. Puzzled, she took it +to mademoiselle. "It is my little sister," she said. "Do you think it +pretty?" + +Jeanne-Armande put on her spectacles, and held it frowningly at +different distances from her eyes. + +"It is odd," she said at last. "Ye--es, it is pretty too. But, for a +child's face, remarkable." + +"She is not a child." + +"Not a child?" + +"No; she is married," replied Anne, smiling. + +Mademoiselle pursed up her lips, and examined the picture with one eye +closed. "After all," she said, "I can believe it. The _eyes_ are +mature." + +The little bride was represented standing; she leaned against a pillar +nonchalantly, and outlined on a light background, the extreme smallness +of her figure was clearly shown. Her eyes were half veiled by their +large drooping lids and long lashes; her little oval face looked small, +like that of a child. Her dress was long, and swept over the floor with +the richness of silk: evidently Père Michaux had not stinted the lavish +little hands when they made their first purchase of a full-grown woman's +attire. For the priest had taken upon himself this outlay; the "money +for close," of which Tita had written, was provided from his purse. He +wrote to Anne that as he was partly responsible for the wedding, he was +also responsible for the trousseau; and he returned the money which with +great difficulty the elder sister had sent. + +"She must be very small," said mademoiselle, musingly, as they still +studied the picture. + +"She is; she has the most slender little face I ever saw." + +[Illustration: "MISS LOIS SIGHED DEEPLY."] + +Tita's head was thrown back as she leaned against the pillar; there was +a half-smile on her delicate lips; her thick hair was still braided +childishly in two long braids which hung over her shoulders and down on +the silken skirt behind; in her small ears were odd long hoops of gold, +which Père Michaux had given her, selecting them himself on account of +their adaptation to her half-Oriental, half-elfin beauty. Her cheeks +showed no color; there were brown shadows under her eyes. On her +slender brown hand shone the wedding ring. The picture was well +executed, and had been carefully tinted under Père Michaux's eye: the +old priest knew that it was Rast's best excuse. + +Now that Anne was freed, he felt no animosity toward the young husband; +on the contrary, he wished to advance his interests in every way that he +could. Tita was a selfish little creature, yet she adored her husband. +She would have killed herself for him at any moment. But first she would +have killed him. + +He saw them start for the far West, and then he returned northward to +his island home. Miss Lois, disheartened by all that had happened, +busied herself in taking care of the boys dumbly, and often shook her +head at the fire when sitting alone with her knitting. She never opened +the old piano now, and she was less stringent with her Indian servants; +she would even have given up quietly her perennial alphabet teaching if +Père Michaux had not discovered the intention, and quizzically approved +it, whereat, of course, she was obliged to go on. In truth, the old man +did this purposely, having noticed the change in his old antagonist. He +fell into the habit of coming to the church-house more frequently--to +teach the boys, he said. He did teach the little rascals, and taught +them well, but he also talked to Miss Lois. The original founders of the +church-house would have been well astonished could they have risen from +their graves and beheld the old priest and the New England woman sitting +on opposite sides of the fire in the neat shining room, which still +retained its Puritan air in spite of years, the boys, and Episcopal +apostasy. + +Regarding Rast's conduct, Miss Lois maintained a grim silence. The +foundations of her faith in life had been shaken; but how could she, +supposed to be a sternly practical person, confess it to the +world--confess that she had dreamed like a girl over this broken +betrothal? + +"Do you not see how much happier, freer, she is?" the priest would say, +after reading one of Anne's letters. "The very tone betrays it." + +Miss Lois sighed deeply, and poked the fire. + +"Pooh! pooh! Do you want her to be _un_happy?" said the old man. +"Suppose that it had been the other way? Why not rejoice as I do over +her cheerfulness?" + +"Why not indeed?" thought Miss Lois. But that stubborn old heart of hers +would not let her. + +The priest had sent to her also one of the pictures of Tita. One day, +after his return, he asked for it. She answered that it was gone. + +"Where?" + +"Into the fire." + +"She cannot forgive," he thought, glancing cautiously at the set face +opposite. + +But it was not Tita whom she could not forgive; it was the young mother, +dead long years before. + +The winter moved on. Anne had taken off her engagement ring, and now +wore in its place a ring given by her school-girl adorers, who had +requested permission in a formal note to present one to their goddess. +As she had refused gems, they had selected the most costly plain gold +circlet they could find in Weston, spending a long and happy Saturday in +the quest. "But it is a wedding ring," said the jeweller. + +But why should brides have all the heavy gold? the school-girls wished +to know. Other persons could wear plain gold rings also if they pleased. + +So they bought the circlet and presented it to Anne with beating hearts +and cheeks flushed with pleasure, humbly requesting in return, for each +a lock of her hair. Then ensued a second purchase of lockets for this +hair: it was well that their extravagant little purses were well filled. + +To the school-girls the ring meant one thing, to Anne another; she +mentally made it a token of the life she intended to lead. Free herself, +he was not free; Helen loved him. Probably, also, he had already +forgotten his fancy for the lonely girl whom he had seen during those +few weeks at Caryl's. She would live her life out as faithfully as she +could, thankful above all things for her freedom. Surely strength would +be given her to do this. The ring was like the marriage ring of a nun, +the token of a vow of patience and humility. During all these long +months she had known no more, heard no more, of her companions of that +summer than as though they had never existed. The newspapers of Weston +and the country at large were not concerned about the opinions and +movements of the unimportant little circle left behind at Caryl's. Their +columns had contained burning words; but they were words relating to the +great questions which were agitating the land from the Penobscot to the +Rio Grande. Once, in a stray number of the _Home Journal_, she found the +following paragraph: "Miss Katharine Vanhorn is in Italy at present. It +is understood that Miss Vanhorn contemplates an extended tour, and will +not return to this country for several years. Her Hudson River residence +and her house in the city are both closed." Anne no longer hoped for any +softening of that hard nature; yet the chance lines hurt her, and gave +her a forsaken feeling all day. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + "War! war! war! + A thunder-cloud in the south in the early spring-- + The launch of a thunder-bolt; and then, + With one red flare, the lightning stretched its wing, + And a rolling echo roused a million men." + + --EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN. + + +April. The sound of military music; the sound of feet keeping step +exactly, and overcoming by its regularity the noise of thousands of +other feet hurrying on irregularly in front of them, abreast of them, +and behind them. A crowd in the square so dense that no one could pass +through; the tree branches above black with boys; the windows all round +the four sides filled with heads. And everywhere women pressing forward, +waving handkerchiefs, some pallid, some flushed, but all deeply excited, +forgetful of self, with eyes fixed on the small compact lines of +military caps close together, moving steadily onward in the midst of the +accompanying throng. And happy the one who had a place in the front +rank: how she gazed! If a girl, no matter how light of heart and +frivolous, a silence and soberness came over her for a moment, and her +eyes grew wistful. If a woman, one who had loved, no matter how hard and +cold she had grown, a warmer heart came back to her then, and tears +rose. What was it? Only a few men dressed in the holiday uniform these +towns-people had often seen; men many of whom they knew well, together +with their shortcomings and weaknesses, whose military airs they had +laughed at; men who, taken singly, had neither importance nor interest. +What was it, then, that made the women's eyes tearful, and sent the +great crowd thronging round and after them as though each one had been +crowned king? What made the groups on the steps and piazzas of each +house keep silence after they had passed, and watch them as long as they +could distinguish the moving lines? It was that these men had made the +first reply of this town to the President's call. It was because these +holiday soldiers were on their way to real battle-fields, where balls +would plough through human flesh, and leave agony and death behind. The +poorest, dullest, soldier who was in these ranks from a sense of +loyalty, however dim and inarticulate it might be, gave all he had: +martyr or saint never gave more. Not many of the gazing people thought +of this; but they did think of death by bayonet and ball as the holiday +ranks marched by. + +Down through the main street went the little troop, and the crowd made a +solid wall on the sidewalk, and a moving guard before and behind. From +the high windows above, the handkerchiefs of the work-girls fluttered, +while underneath from the law offices, and below from the door-ways, men +looked out soberly, realizing that this meant War indeed--real and near +War. + +By another way, down the hill toward the railway-station, rattled the +wheels of an artillery company; also a little holiday troop, with +holiday guns shining brightly. The men sat in their places with folded +arms; the crowd, seeing them, knew them all. They were only Miller, and +Sieberling, and Wagner, and others as familiar; six months ago--a month +ago--they would have laughed inexhaustibly at the idea of calling Tom +Miller a hero, or elevating Fritz Wagner to any other pedestal than the +top of a beer barrel. But now, as they saw them, they gave a mighty +cheer, which rang through the air splendidly, and raised a hue of pride +upon the faces of the artillerymen, and perhaps the first feeling in +some of their hearts higher than the determination not to "back out," +which had been until then their actuating motive. The two shining little +guns rattled down the hill; the infantry company marched down behind +them. The line of cars, with locomotive attached, was in waiting, and, +breaking ranks, helter-skelter, in any way and every way, hindered by +hand-shaking, by all sorts of incongruous parting gifts thrust upon them +at the last moment by people they never saw before, blessed by excited, +tearful women, made heart-sick themselves by the sight of the grief of +their mothers and wives, the soldiers took their places in the cars, and +the train moved out from the station, followed by a long cheer, taken up +and repeated again and again, until nothing but a dark speck on the +straight track remained for the shouters to look at, when they stopped +suddenly, hoarse and tired, and went silently homeward, pondering upon +this new thing which had come into their lives. The petty cares of the +day were forgotten. "War is hideous; but it banishes littleness from +daily life." + +Anne, brought up as she had been in a remote little community, isolated +and half foreign, was in a measure ignorant of the causes and questions +of the great struggle which began in America in April, 1861. Not hers +the prayerful ardor of the New England girl who that day willingly gave +her lover, saw him brought home later dead, buried him, and lived on, +because she believed that he had died to free his brother man, as Christ +had died for her. Not hers the proud loyalty of the Southern girl to her +blood and to her State, when that day she bade her lover go forth and +sweep their fanatical assailants back, as the old Cavaliers, from whom +they were descended, swept back the crop-eared Puritans into the sea. + +Jeanne-Armande was not especially stirred; save by impatience--impatience +over this interference with the prosperity of the country. It might injure +property (the half-house), and break up music classes and schools! What +sympathy she felt, too, was with the South; but she was wise enough to +conceal this from all save Anne, since the school was burning with zeal, +and the principal already engaged in teaching the pupils to make lint. +But if Jeanne-Armande was lukewarm, Miss Lois was at fever heat; the old +New England spirit rose within her like a giant when she read the +tidings. Far away as she was from all the influences of the time, she +yet wrote long letters to Anne which sounded like the clash of spears, +the call of the trumpet, and the roll of drums, so fervid were the +sentences which fell of themselves into the warlike phraseology of the +Old Testament, learned by heart in her youth. But duty, as well as +charity, begins at home, and even the most burning zeal must give way +before the daily needs of children. Little André was not strong; his +spine was becoming curved, they feared. In his languor he had fallen +into the habit of asking Miss Lois to hold him in her arms, rock with +him in the old rocking-chair, and sing. Miss Lois had not thought that +she could ever love "those children"; but there was a soft spot in her +heart now for little André. + +In June two unexpected changes came. Little André grew suddenly worse; +and Jeanne-Armande went to Europe. A rich merchant of Weston, wishing to +take his family abroad, engaged mademoiselle as governess for his two +daughters, and French speaker for the party, at what she herself termed +"the salary of a princess." The two announcements came on the same day. +Jeanne-Armande, excited and tremulous, covered a sheet of paper with +figures to show to herself and Anne the amount of the expected gain. As +she could not retain her place in the school without the magic power of +being in two places at once, the next best course was to obtain it for +Anne, with the understanding that the successor was to relinquish it +immediately whenever called upon to do so. As they were in the middle of +a term, the principal accepted Miss Douglas, who, although young, had +proved herself competent and faithful. And thus Anne found herself +unexpectedly possessed of a higher salary, heavier duties, and alone. +For Jeanne-Armande, in the helmet bonnet, sailed on the twentieth of the +month for England, in company with her charges, who, with all their +beauty and bird-like activity, would find it impossible to elude +mademoiselle, who would guard them with unflinching vigilance, and, it +is but fair to add, would earn every cent of even that "salary of a +princess" (whatever that may be) which had attracted her. + +Before mademoiselle departed it had been decided that in consequence of +little André's illness Miss Lois should close the church-house, and take +the child to the hot springs not far distant, in Michigan, and that +Louis and Gabriel should come to their elder sister for a time. The boys +were to travel to Weston alone, Père Michaux putting them in charge of +the captain of the steamer, while Anne was to meet them upon their +arrival. Miss Lois wrote that they were wild with excitement, and had +begged all sorts of farewell presents from everybody, and packed them in +the two chests which Père Michaux had given them--knives, cord, hammers, +nails, the last being "a box-stove, old and rusty, which they had +actually taken to pieces and hidden among their clothes." Jeanne-Armande +went away on Monday; the boys were to arrive on Saturday. Anne spent all +her leisure time in preparing for them. Two of the little black-eyed +fellows were coming at last, the children who had clung to her skirts, +called her "Annet," and now and then, when they felt like it, swarmed up +all together to kiss her, like so many affectionate young bears. They +were very dear to her--part of her childhood and of the island. The day +arrived; full of expectation, she went down to meet the steamer. Slowly +the long narrow craft threaded its way up the crooked river; the great +ropes were made fast, the plank laid in place; out poured the +passengers, men, women, and children, but no Louis, no Gabriel. Anne +watched until the last man had passed, and the deck hands were beginning +to roll out the freight; then a voice spoke above, "Is that Miss +Douglas?" + +She looked up, and saw the captain, who asked her to come on board for a +moment. "I am very much troubled, Miss Douglas," he began, wiping his +red but friendly face. "The two boys--your half-brothers, I +believe--placed in my care by Père Michaux, have run away." + +Anne gazed at him in silence. + +"They must have slipped off the boat at Hennepin, which is the first +point where we strike a railroad. It seems to have been a plan, too, for +they managed to have their chests put off also." + +"You have no idea where they have gone?" + +"No; I sent letters back to Hennepin and to Père Michaux immediately, +making inquiries. The only clew I have is that they asked a number of +questions about the plains of one of our hands, who has been out that +way." + +"The plains!" + +"Yes; they said they had a sister living out there." + +A pain darted through Anne's heart. Could they have deserted her for +Tita? She went home desolate and disheartened; the empty rooms, where +all her loving preparations were useless now, seemed to watch her +satirically. Even the boys did not care enough for her to think of her +pain and disappointment. + +Père Michaux had had no suspicion of the plan: but he knew of one dark +fact which might have, he wrote to Anne, a bearing upon it. Miss Lois +had mysteriously lost, in spite of all her care, a sum of money, upon +which she had depended for a part of the summer's expenses, and +concerning which she had made great lamentation; it had been made up by +the renting of the church-house; but the mystery remained. If the boys +had taken it, bad as the action was, it insured for a time at least +their safety. The priest thought they had started westward to join Rast +and Tita, having been fascinated by what they had overheard of Rast's +letters. + +The surmise was correct. After what seemed to Anne very long delay, a +letter came; it was from Rast. The night before, two dirty little +tramps, tired and hungry, with clothes soiled and torn, had opened the +door and walked in, announcing that they were Louis and Gabriel, and +that they meant to stay. They had asked for food, but had fallen asleep +almost before they could eat it. With their first breath that morning +they had again declared that nothing should induce them to return +eastward, either to the island or to Anne. And Rast added that he +thought they might as well remain; he and Tita would take charge of +them. After a few days came a letter from the boys themselves, printed +by Louis. In this document, brief but explicit, they sent their love, +but declined to return. If Père Michaux came after them, they would run +away again, and _this_ time no one should ever know where they were, +"exsep, purhaps, the _Mormons_." With this dark threat the letter ended. + +Père Michaux, as in the case of Tita, took the matter into his own +hands. He wrote to Rast to keep the boys, and find some regular +occupation for them as soon as possible. Anne's ideas about them had +always been rather Quixotic; he doubted whether they could ever have +been induced to attend school regularly. But now they would grow to +manhood in a region where such natural gifts as they possessed would be +an advantage to them, and where, also, their deficiencies would not be +especially apparent. The old priest rather enjoyed this escapade. He +considered that three of the Douglas children were now, on the whole, +well placed, and that Anne was freed from the hampering responsibility +which her father's ill-advised course had imposed upon her. He sailed +round his water parish with brisker zeal than ever, although in truth he +was very lonely. The little white fort was empty; even Miss Lois was +gone; but he kept himself busy, and read his old classics on stormy +evenings when the rain poured down on his low roof. + +But Anne grieved. + +As several of her pupils wished to continue their music lessons during +the vacation, it was decided by Miss Lois and herself that she should +remain where she was for the present; the only cheer she had was in the +hope that in autumn Miss Lois and the little boy would come to her. But +in spite of all her efforts, the long weeks of summer stretched before +her like a desert; in her lonely rooms without the boys, without +mademoiselle, she was pursued by a silent depression unlike anything she +had felt before. She fell into the habit of allowing herself to sit +alone in the darkness through the evening brooding upon the past. The +kind-hearted woman who kept the house, in whose charge she had been left +by mademoiselle, said that she was "homesick." + +"How can one be homesick who has no home?" answered the girl, smiling +sadly. + +One day the principal of the school asked her if she would go on +Saturdays for a while, and assist those who were at work in the Aid +Rooms for the soldiers' hospitals. Anne consented languidly; but once +within the dingy walls, languor vanished. There personal sorrow seemed +small in the presence of ghastly lists of articles required for the +wounded and dying. At least those she loved were not confronting cannon. +Those in charge of the rooms soon learned to expect her, this young +teacher, a stranger in Weston, who with a settled look of sadness on her +fair face had become the most diligent worker there. She came more +regularly after a time, for the school had closed, the long vacation +begun. + +On Sunday, the 21st of July, Anne was in church; it was a warm day; fans +waved, soft air came in and played around the heads of the people, who, +indolent with summer ease, leaned back comfortably, and listened with +drowsy peacefulness to the peaceful sermon. At that very moment, on a +little mill-stream near Washington, men were desperately fighting the +first great battle of the war, the Sunday battle of Bull Run. The +remnant of the Northern army poured over Long Bridge into the capital +during all that night, a routed, panic-stricken mob. + +The North had suffered a great defeat; the South had gained a great +victory. And both sides paused. + +The news flashed over the wires and into Weston, and the town was +appalled. Never in the four long years that followed was there again a +day so filled with stern astonishment to the entire North as that Monday +after Bull Run. The Aid Rooms, where Anne worked during her leisure +hours, were filled with helpers now; all hearts were excited and in +earnest. West Virginia was the field to which their aid was sent, a +mountain region whose streams were raised in an hour into torrents, and +whose roads were often long sloughs of despond, through which the +soldiers of each side gloomily pursued each other by turns, the slowness +of the advancing force only equalled by that of the pursued, which was +encountering in front the same disheartening difficulties. The men in +hospital on the edges of this region, worn out with wearying marches, +wounded in skirmishes, stricken down by the insidious fever which haunts +the river valleys, suffered as much as those who had the names of great +battles wherewith to identify themselves; but they lacked the glory. + +One sultry evening, when the day's various labor was ended, Anne, having +made a pretense of eating in her lonely room, went across to the bank of +the lake to watch the sun set in the hazy blue water, and look northward +toward the island. She was weary and sad: where were now the resolution +and the patience with which she had meant to crown her life? You did not +know, poor Anne, when you framed those lofty purposes, that suffering is +just as hard to bear whether one is noble or ignoble, good or bad. In +the face of danger the heart is roused, and in the exaltation of +determination forgets its pain; it is the long monotony of dangerless +days that tries the spirit hardest. + +A letter had come to her that morning, bearing a Boston postmark; the +address was in the neat, small handwriting of Jeanne-Armande's friend. +Anne, remembering that it was this Boston address which she had sent to +her grandaunt, opened the envelope eagerly. But it was only the formal +letter of a lawyer. Miss Vanhorn had died, on the nineteenth of June, in +Switzerland, and the lawyer wrote to inform "Miss Anne Douglas" that a +certain portrait, said in the will to be that of "Alida Clanssen," had +been bequeathed to her by his late client, and would be forwarded to her +address, whenever she requested it. Anne had expected nothing, not even +this. But an increased solitariness came upon her as she thought of +that cold rigid face lying under the turf far away in Switzerland--the +face of the only relative left to her. + +The sun had disappeared; it was twilight. The few loiterers on the bank +were departing. The sound of carriage wheels roused her, and turning she +saw that a carriage had approached, and that three persons had alighted +and were coming toward her. They proved to be the principal of the +school and the president of the Aid Society, accompanied by one of her +associates. They had been to Anne's home, and learning where she was, +had followed her. It seemed that one of the city physicians had gone +southward a few days before to assist in the regimental hospitals on the +border; a telegraphic dispatch had just been received from him, urging +the Aid Society to send without delay three or four nurses to that +fever-cursed district, where men were dying in delirium for want of +proper care. It was the first personal appeal which had come to Weston; +the young Aid Society felt that it must be answered. But who could go? +Among the many workers at the Aid Rooms, few were free; wives, mothers, +and daughters, they could give an hour or two daily to the work of love, +but they could not leave their homes. One useful woman, a nurse by +profession, was already engaged; another, a lady educated and refined, +whose hair had been silvered as much by affliction as by age, had +offered to go. There were two, then; but they ought to send four. Many +had been asked during that afternoon, but without success. The society +was at its wits' end. Then some one thought of Miss Douglas. + +She was young, but she was also self-controlled and physically strong. +Her inexperience would not be awkwardness; she would obey with +intelligence and firmness the directions given her. Under the charge of +the two older women, she could go--if she would! + +It would be but for a short time--two weeks only; at the end of that +period the society expected to relieve these first volunteers with +regularly engaged and paid nurses. The long vacation had begun; as +teacher, she would lose nothing; her expenses would be paid by the +society. She had seemed so interested; it would not be much more to go +for a few days in person; perhaps she would even be glad to go. All this +they told her eagerly, while she stood before them in silence. Then, +when at last their voices ceased, and they waited for answer, she said, +slowly, looking from one to the other: "I could go, if it were not for +one obstacle. I have music scholars, and I can not afford to lose them. +I am very poor." + +"They will gladly wait until you return, Miss Douglas," said the +principal. "When it is known where you have gone, you will not only +retain all your old scholars, but gain many new ones. They will be proud +of their teacher." + +"Yes, proud!" echoed the associate. Again Anne remained silent; she was +thinking. In her loneliness she was almost glad to go. Perhaps, by the +side of the suffering and the dying, she could learn to be ashamed of +being so down-hearted and miserable. It was but a short absence. "Yes, I +will go," she said, quietly. And then the three ladies kissed her, and +the associate, who was of a tearful habit, took out her handkerchief. +"It is so sweet, and so--so martial!" she sobbed. + +The next morning they started. Early as it was, a little company had +gathered to see them off. The school-girls were there, half in grief, +half in pride, over what they were pleased to call the "heroism" of +their dear Miss Douglas. Mrs. Green, Anne's landlady, was there in her +Sunday bonnet, which was, however, but a poor one. These, with the +principal of the school and the other teachers, and the ladies belonging +to the Aid Society, made quite a snowy shower of white handkerchiefs as +the train moved out from the station, Anne's young face contrasting with +the strong features and coarse complexion of Mary Crane, the +professional nurse, on one side, and with the thin cheeks and silver +hair of Mrs. Barstow on the other, as they stood together at the rear +door of the last car. "Good-by! good-by!" called the school-girls in +tears, and the ladies of the Aid Society gave a shrill little feminine +cheer. They were away. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + "When we remember how they died-- + In dark ravine and on the mountain-side,... + How their dear lives were spent + By lone lagoons and streams, + In the weary hospital tent,... + ....it seems + Ignoble to be alive!" + + --THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH. + + +The three nurses travelled southward by railway, steamboat, and wagon. +On the evening of the third day they came to the first hospital, having +been met at the river by an escort, and safely guided across a country +fair with summer and peaceful to the eye, but harassed by constant +skirmishing--the guerrilla warfare that desolated that border during the +entire war. The houses they passed looked home-like and quiet; if the +horses had been stolen and the barns pillaged, at least nothing of it +appeared in the warm sunshine of the still August day. At the door of +the hospital they were welcomed cordially, and within the hour they were +at work, Anne timidly, the others energetically. Mary Crane had the +worst cases; then followed Mrs. Barstow. To Anne was given what was +called the light work; none of her patients were in danger. The men here +had all been stricken down by fever; there were no wounded. During the +next day and evening, however, stories began to come to the little post, +brought by the country people, that a battle had been fought farther up +the valley toward the mountains, and that Hospital Number Two was filled +with wounded men, many of them lying on the hard floor because there +were not beds enough, unattended and suffering because there were no +nurses. Anne, who had worked ardently all day, chafing and rebelling in +spirit at the sight of suffering which could have been soothed by a few +of the common luxuries abundant in almost every house in Weston, felt +herself first awed, then chilled, by this picture of far worse agony +beyond, whose details were pitilessly painted in the plain rough words +of the country people. She went to the door and looked up the valley. +The river wound slowly along, broad, yellow, and shining; it came from +the mountains, but from where she stood she could see only round-topped +hills. While she was still wistfully gazing, a soldier on horseback rode +up to the door and dismounted; it was a messenger from Number Two, +urgently asking for help. + +"Under the circumstances, I do not see how I can refuse," said the +surgeon of Number One, with some annoyance in his tone, "because none of +my men are wounded. People never stop to think that fever is equally +dangerous. I was just congratulating myself upon a little satisfactory +work. However, I shall have to yield, I suppose. I can not send you all; +but I ought to spare two, at least for some days. Mary Crane of course +can do the most good; and as Miss Douglas can not be left here alone, +perhaps it would be best that she should go with Mary." + +"You retain Mrs. Barstow here?" asked Anne. + +"Yes; I have, indeed, no choice. _You_ are too young to be retained +alone. I suppose you are willing? (Women always are wild for a change!) +Make ready, then; I shall send you forward to-night." The surgeon of +Number One was a cynic. + +At nine o'clock they started. The crescent of a young moon showed itself +through the light clouds, which, low as mist, hung over the valley. +Nothing stirred; each leaf hung motionless from its branchlet as they +passed. Even the penetrating sing-song chant of the summer insects was +hushed, and the smooth river as they followed its windings made no +murmur. They were in a light wagon, with an escort of two mounted men. + +"If you go beyond Number Two, you'll have to take to horseback, I +reckon," said their driver, a countryman, who, without partisan feeling +as to the two sides of the contest, held on with a tight grip to his +horses, and impartially "did teaming" for both. + +"Is there still another hospital beyond?" inquired Anne. + +"Yes, there's Peterson's, a sorter hospital; it's up in the mountains. +And heaps of sick fellers there too, the last time I was up." + +"It does not belong to this department," said Mary Crane. + +"I reckon they suffer pooty much the same, no matter where they belong," +replied the driver, flicking the wheel reflectively with his whip-lash. +"There was a feller up at Number Two the other day as hadn't any face +left to speak of; yet he was alive, and quite peart." + +Anne shuddered. + +"There now, hold up, won't you?" said Mary Crane. "This young lady ain't +a real nurse, as I am, and such stories make her feel faint." + +"If she ain't a real nurse, what made her come?" said the man, glancing +at Anne with dull curiosity. + +"Twas just goodness, and the real downright article of patriotism, I +guess," said the hearty nurse, smiling. + +"Oh no," said Anne; "I was lonely and sad, and glad to come." + +"It _doos_ kinder rouse one up to see a lot of men hit in all sorts of +ways, legs and arms and everything flying round," remarked the driver, +as if approving Anne's selection of remedies for loneliness. + +They reached Number Two at dawn, and found the wounded in rows upon the +floor of the barn dignified by the name of hospital. There had been no +attempt to classify them after the few beds were filled. One poor torn +fragment of humanity breathed his last as the nurses entered, another an +hour later. Mary Crane set herself to work with ready skill; Anne, after +going outside two or three times to let her tears flow unseen over the +sorrowful sights, was able to assist in taking care of two kinds of +cases--those who were the least hurt and those who were beyond hope, the +slightly wounded and the dying. One man, upon whose face was the gray +shadow of death, asked her in a whisper to write a letter for him. She +found paper and pen, and sat down beside the bed to receive his farewell +message to his wife and children. "And tell little Jim he must grow up +and be a comfort to his mother," he murmured; and then turning his quiet +gaze slowly upon the nurse: "His mother is only twenty-two years old +now, miss. I expect she'll feel bad, Mary will, when she hears." Poor +young wife! The simple country phraseology covered as much sorrow as the +finest language of the schools. During the night the man died. + +The new nurses remained at Number Two six days. Anne's work consisted +principally in relieving Mary Crane at dawn, and keeping the watch +through the early morning hours while she slept; for the head surgeon +and Mary would not allow her to watch at night. The surgeon had two +assistants; with one of these silent old men (they were both +gray-haired) she kept watch while the sun rose slowly over the +hill-tops, while the birds twittered, and the yellow butterflies came +dancing through the open doors and windows, over the heads of the poor +human sleepers. But Number Two had greater ease now. The hopelessly +wounded were all at rest, their sufferings in this life over. Those who +were left, in time would see health again. + +On the seventh day a note came to the surgeon in charge from the +temporary hospital at Peterson's Mill, asking for medicines. "If you can +possibly spare us one or two nurses for a few days, pray do so. In all +my experience I have never been so hard pushed as now," wrote the other +surgeon. "The men here are all down with the fever, and I and my +assistant are almost crazed with incessant night-work. If we could be +relieved for one night even, it would be God's charity." + +The surgeon of Number Two read this note aloud to Anne as they stood by +a table eating their hasty breakfast. "It is like the note you sent to +us at Number One," she said. + +"Oh no; that was different, _I_ never send and take away other people's +nurses," said Dr. Janes, laughingly. + +"I should like to go," she said, after a moment. + +"You should like to go? I thought you were so much interested here." + +"So I am; but after what I have seen, I am haunted by the thought that +there may be worse suffering beyond. That is the reason I came here. But +the men here are more comfortable now, and those who were suffering +hopelessly have been relieved forever from earthly pain. If we are not +needed, some of us ought to go." + +"But if we pass you on in this way from post to post, we shall get you +entirely over the mountains, and into the Department of the Potomac, +Miss Douglas. What you say is true enough, but at present I refuse. I +simply can not spare you two. If they should send us a nurse from +Rivertown as they promised, we might get along without you for a while; +but not now. Charity, you know, begins at home." + +Anne sighed, but acquiesced. The surgeon knew best. But during that day, +not only did the promised nurse from the Rivertown Aid Society arrive, +but with her a volunteer assistant, a young girl, her face flushed with +exaltation and excitement over the opportunity afforded her to help and +comfort "our poor dear wounded heroes." The wounded heroes were not +poetical in appearance; they were simply a row of ordinary sick men, +bandaged in various ways, often irritable, sometimes profane; their +grammar was defective, and they cared more for tobacco than for texts, +or even poetical quotations. The young nurse would soon have her romance +rudely dispelled. But as there was good stuff in her, she would do +useful work yet, although shorn of many illusions. The other woman was a +professional nurse, whose services were paid for like those of Mary +Crane. + +"_Now_ may we go?" said Anne, when the new nurse had been installed. + +Dr. Janes, loath to consent, yet ashamed, as he said himself, of his own +greediness, made no long opposition, and the countryman with the +non-partisan horses was engaged to take them to Peterson's Mill. For +this part of the road no escort was required. They travelled in the +wagon for ten miles. Here the man stopped, took the harness from the +horses, replaced it with two side-saddles which he had brought with him, +drew the wagon into a ravine safely out of sight, effaced the trace of +the wheels, and then wiping his forehead after his exertions, announced +that he was ready. Anne had never been on horseback in her life. Mary +Crane, who would have mounted a camel imperturbably if it came into the +line of her business, climbed up sturdily by the aid of a stump, and +announced that she felt herself "quite solid." The horse seemed to agree +with her. Anne followed her example, and being without physical +nervousness, she soon became accustomed to the motion, and even began to +imagine how exhilarating it would be to ride rapidly over a broad plain, +feeling the wind on her face as she flew along. But the two old brown +horses had no idea of flying. They toiled patiently every day, and +sometimes at night as well, now for one army, now for the other; but +nothing could make them quicken their pace. In the present case they +were not asked to do it, since the road was but a bridle-path through +the ravines and over the hills which formed the flank of the mountains +they were approaching, and the driver was following them on foot. The +ascents grew steeper, the ravines deeper and wilder. + +"I no longer see the mountains," said Anne. + +"That's because you're in 'em," answered the driver. + +At night-fall they reached their destination. It was a small mountain +mill, in a little green valley which nestled confidingly among the wild +peaks as though it was not afraid of their roughness. Within were the +fever patients, and the tired surgeon and his still more tired assistant +could hardly believe their good fortune when the two nurses appeared. +The assistant, a tall young medical student who had not yet finished +growing, made his own bed of hay and a coverlet so hungrily in a dusky +corner that Anne could not help smiling; the poor fellow was fairly +gaunt from loss of sleep, and had been obliged to walk up and down +during the whole of the previous night to keep himself awake. The +surgeon, who was older and more hardened, explained to Mary Crane the +condition of the men, and gave her careful directions for the night; +then he too disappeared. Anne and Mary moved about softly, and when +everything was ready, sat down on opposite sides of the room to keep the +vigil. If the men were restless, Mary was to attend to them; Anne was +the subordinate, merely obeying Mary's orders. The place was dimly +lighted by two candles set in bottles; the timbers above were festooned +with cobwebs whitened with meal, and the floor was covered with its fine +yellow dust. A large spider came slowly out from behind a beam near by, +and looked at Anne; at least she thought he did. He was mealy too, and +she fell to wondering whether he missed the noise of the wheel, and +whether he asked himself what all these men meant by coming in and lying +down in rows upon his floor to disturb his peacefulness. At sunrise the +surgeon came in, but he was obliged to shake the student roughly before +he could awaken him from his heavy slumber. It was not until the third +day that the poor youth lost the half-mad expression which had shone in +his haggard face when they arrived, and began to look as though he was +composed of something besides big jaws, gaunt cheeks, and sunken eyes, +which had seemed to be all there was of him besides bones when they +first came. + +The fever patients at Peterson's Mill were not Western men, like the +inmates of Number One and Number Two; they belonged to two New York +regiments. Mary Crane did excellent work among them, her best; her +systematic watchfulness, untiring vigilance, and strict rules shook the +hold of the fever, and in many cases routed the dismal spectre, and +brought the victims triumphantly back to hope of health again. + +One morning Anne, having written a letter for one of the men, was +fanning him as he lay in his corner; the doors were open, but the air +was sultry. The man was middle-aged and gaunt, his skin was yellow and +lifeless, his eyes sunken. Yet the surgeon pronounced him out of danger; +it was now merely a question of care, patience, and nourishment. The +poor mill-hospital had so little for its sick! But boxes from the North +were at last beginning to penetrate even these defiles; one had arrived +during the previous night, having been dragged on a rude sledge over +places where wheels could not go, by the non-partisan horses, which were +now on their patient way with a load of provisions to a detachment of +Confederates camped, or rather mired, in the southern part of the +county. The contents of that box had made the mill-hospital glad; the +yellow-faced skeleton whom Anne was fanning had tasted lemons at last, +and almost thought he was in heaven. Revived and more hopeful, he had +been talking to his nurse. "I should feel easier, miss, if I knew just +where our captain was. You see, there was a sort of a scrimmage, and +some of us got hurt. He wasn't hurt, but he was took down with the +fever, and so bad that we had to leave him behind at a farm-house. And +I've heard nothing since." + +"Where was he left--far from here?" + +"No; sing'lerly enough, 'twas the very next valley to this one. _We_ +went in half a dozen directions after that, and tramped miles in the +mud, but he was left there. We put him in charge of a woman, who _said_ +she'd take care of him, but I misdoubt her. She was a meaching-looking +creature." + +"Probably, then, as you have heard nothing, he has recovered, and is +with his regiment again," said Anne, with the cheerful optimism which is +part of a nurse's duty. + +"Yes, miss. And yet perhaps he ain't, you know. I thought mebbe you'd +ask the surgeon for me. I'm only a straggler here, anyway; the others +don't belong to my regiment. Heathcote was the name; Captain Ward +Heathcote. A city feller he was, but wuth a heap, for all that." + +What was the matter with the nurse that she turned so pale? And now she +was gone! And without leaving the fan too. However, he could hardly have +held it. He found his little shred of lemon, lifted it to his dry lips, +and closed his eyes patiently, hardly remembering even what he had said. + +Meanwhile Anne, still very pale, had drawn the surgeon outside the door, +and was questioning him. Yes, he knew that an officer had been left at +a farm-house over in the next valley; he had been asked to ride over and +see him. But how could he! As nothing had been heard from him since, +however, he was probably well by this time, and back with his regiment +again. + +"Probably"--the very word she had herself used when answering the +soldier. How inactive and cowardly it seemed now! "I must go across to +this next valley," she said. + +"My dear Miss Douglas!" said Dr. Flower, a grave, portly man, whose +ideas moved as slowly as his small fat-encircled eyes. + +"I know a Mr. Heathcote; this may be the same person. The Mr. Heathcote +I know is engaged to a friend of mine, a lady to whom I am much +indebted. I must learn whether this officer in the next valley is he." + +"But even if it is the same man, no doubt he is doing well over there. +Otherwise we should have heard from them before this time," said the +surgeon, sensibly. + +But Anne did not stop at sense. "It is probable, but not certain. There +must be no room for doubt. If _you_ will ride over, I will stay. +Otherwise I must go." + +"I can not leave; it is impossible." + +"Where can I procure a horse, then?" + +"I do not think I ought to allow it, Miss Douglas. It is nearly fifteen +miles to the next valley; of course you can not go alone, and I can not +spare Mary Crane to go with you." The surgeon spoke decidedly; he had +daughters of his own at home, and felt himself responsible for this +young nurse. + +Anne looked at him. "Oh, do help me!" she cried, with an outburst of +sudden emotion. "I must go; even if I go alone, and walk every step of +the way, I must, must go!" + +Dr. Caleb Flower was a slow man; but anything he had once learned he +remembered. He now recognized the presence of what he called "one of +those intense impulses which make even timid women for the time being +inflexible as adamant." + +"You will have to pay largely for horses and a guide," he said, in +order to gain time, inwardly regretting meanwhile that he had not the +power to tie this nurse to her chair. + +"I have a little money with me." + +"But even if horses are found, you can not go alone; and, as I said +before, I can not spare Mary." + +"Why would not Diana do?" said Anne. + +"Diana!" exclaimed Dr. Flower, his lips puckering as if to form a long +whistle. + +Diana was a middle-aged negro woman, who, with her husband, July, lived +in a cabin near the mill, acting as laundress for the hospital. She was +a silent, austere woman; in her there was little of the +light-heartedness and plenitude of person which generally belong to her +race. A devout Baptist, quoting more texts to the sick soldiers than +they liked when she was employed in the hospital, chanting hymns in a +low voice while hanging out the clothes, Diana had need of her +austerity, industry, and leanness to balance July, who was the most +light-hearted, lazy, and rotund negro in the mountains. + +"But you know that Mary Crane has orders not to leave you?" said Dr. +Flower. + +"I did not know it." + +"Yes; so she tells me. The ladies of the Aid Society who sent her +arranged it. And I wish with all my heart that our other young nurses +were as well taken care of!" added the surgeon, a comical expression +coming into his small eyes. + +"On ordinary occasions I would not, of course, interfere with these +orders," said Anne, "but on this I must. You must trust me with Diana, +doctor--Diana and July. They will take good care of me." + +"I suppose I shall _have_ to yield, Miss Douglas. But I regret, regret +exceedingly, that I have not full authority over you. I feel it +necessary to say formally that your going is against my wishes and my +advice. And now, since you _will_ have your own way in any case, I must +do what I can for you." + +An hour later, two mules were ascending the mountain-side, following an +old trail; Anne was on one, the tall grave Diana on the other. July +walked in front, with his gun over his shoulder. + +"No danjah hyah," he assured them volubly; "soldiers doan' come up dis +yer way at all. Dey go draggin' 'long in de mud below always; seem to +like 'em." + +But Anne was not thinking of danger. "Could we not go faster by the +road?" she asked. + +"'Spec's we could, miss. But wudn't darst to, ef I was you." + +"No, no, miss," said Diana. "Best keep along in dese yere woods; dey's +safe." + +The hours were endless. At last it seemed to Anne as if they were not +moving at all, but merely sitting still in their saddles, while a +continuous procession of low trees and high bushes filed slowly past +them, now pointing upward, now slanting downward, according to the +nature of the ground. In reality they were moving forward, crossing a +spur of the mountain, but so dense was the foliage of the thicket, and +so winding the path, that they could not see three feet in any +direction, and all sense of advance was therefore lost. Anne fell into a +mental lethargy, which was troubled every now and then by that strange +sense of having seen particular objects before which occasionally haunts +the brain. Now it was a tree, now a bird; or was it that she had known +July in some far-off anterior existence, and that he had kicked a stone +from his path in precisely that same way? + +It was late twilight when, after a long descent still shrouded in the +interminable thicket, the path came out suddenly upon a road, and Anne's +eyes seemed to herself to expand as the view expanded. She saw a valley, +the gray smoothness of water, and here and there roofs. July had stopped +the mules in the shadow. + +"Can you tell me which house it mought be, miss?" he asked, in a low, +cautious tone. + +"No," replied Anne. "But the person I am trying to find is named +Heathcote--Captain Heathcote. We must make inquiries." + +[Illustration: "JULY WALKED IN FRONT, WITH HIS GUN OVER HIS +SHOULDER."] + +"Now do be keerful, miss," urged July, keeping Anne's mule back. +"I'll jes' go and peer roun' a bit. But you stay hyar with Di." + +"Yes, miss," said Diana. "We'll go back in de woods a piece, and wait. +July'll fin' out all about 'em." + +Whether willingly or unwillingly, Anne was obliged to yield; the two +women rode back into the woods, and July stole away cautiously upon his +errand. + +It was ten o'clock before he returned; Anne had dismounted, and was +walking impatiently to and fro in the warm darkness. + +"Found 'em, miss," said July. "But it's cl'ar 'cross de valley. +Howsomever, valley's safe, dey say, and you can ride right along ober." + +"Was it Mr. Heathcote?" said Anne, as the mules trotted down a +cross-road and over a bridge, July keeping up with a long loping run. + +"Yes, miss; Heathcote's de name. I saw him, and moughty sick he looked." + +"What did he say?" + +"Fever's in him head, miss, and didn't say nothing. Senses clean done +gone." + +Anne had not thought of this, it changed her task at once. He would not +know her; she could do all that was necessary in safety, and then go +unrecognized away. "What will he say?" she had asked herself a thousand +times. Now, he would say nothing, and all would be simple and easy. + +"Dis yere's de place," said July, pausing. + +It was a low farm-house with a slanting roof; there was a light in the +window, and the door stood open. Anne, springing from her saddle, and +followed by Diana, hastened up the little garden path. At first there +seemed to be no one in the room into which the house door opened; then a +slight sound behind a curtain in one corner attracted her attention, and +going across, she drew aside the drapery. The head moving restlessly to +and fro on the pillow, with closed eyes and drawn mouth, was that of +Ward Heathcote. + +She spoke his name; the eyes opened and rested upon her, but there was +no recognition in the glance. + +"Bless you! his senses has been gone for days," said the farmer's wife, +coming up behind her and looking at her patient impartially. "He don't +know nobody no more'n a day-old baby!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + "Love is not love + Which alters when it alteration finds, + Or tends with the remover to remove: + Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks + Within his bending sickle's compass come: + Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, + But bears it out even to the edge of doom." + + --SHAKSPEARE. + + +"Why did you not send across to the hospital at the mill?" said Anne. +"Dr. Flower, receiving no second message, supposed that Captain +Heathcote had recovered." + +"Well, you see, I reckon I know as much about this yer fever as the +doctors do as never had it," replied Mrs. Redd. "The captain couldn't be +moved; that was plain as day. And we hadn't a horse, nuther. Our horse +and mules have all been run off and stole." + +Mrs. Redd was a clay-colored woman, with a figure which, cavernous in +front, was yet so rounded out behind that if she could have turned her +head round she would have been very well shaped. Her knowledge of the +fever was plainly derived from personal experience; she explained that +she had it "by spells," and that "Redd he has it too," and their +daughter Nancy as well. "Redd he isn't to home now, nor Nancy nuther. +But Redd he'll be back by to-morrow night, I reckon. If you want to +stay, I can accommodate you. You can have the loft, and the niggers can +sleep in the barn. But they'll have to cook for themselves. I shall be +mighty glad to have some help in tending on the captain; I'm about wore +out." + +Mrs. Redd did not mention that she had confiscated the sick man's money, +and hidden it safely away in an old tea-pot, and that all her knowledge +of arithmetic was at work keeping a daily account of expenses which +should in the end exactly balance the sum. She had no intention of +stealing the money--certainly not. But of course her "just account" must +be paid. She could still work at this problem, she thought, and earn +something as well from the new-comers, who would also relieve her from +all care of the sick man: it was clearly a providence. In the glow of +this expected gain she even prepared supper. Fortunately in summer her +kitchen was in the open air, and the room where Heathcote lay was left +undisturbed. + +Anne had brought the hospital medicines with her, and careful +instructions from Mary Crane. If she had come upon Heathcote before her +late experiences, she would have felt little hope, but men whose +strength had been far more reduced than his had recovered under her +eyes. Diana was a careful nurse; July filled the place of valet, +sleeping on straw on the floor. She ordered down the bed-curtains and +opened all the windows; martial law regarding air, quiet, and medicines +was proclaimed. The sick man lay quietly, save for the continued +restless motion of his head. + +"If we could only stop his slipping his head across and back in that +everlasting way, I believe he'd be better right off," said Mrs. Redd. + +"It done him good, 'pears to me," said July, who already felt a strong +affection in his capacious vagabondizing heart for the stranger +committed to his care. "Yo' see, it kinder rests his mind like." + +"Much mind _he's_ got to rest with!" said Mrs. Redd, contemptuously. + +With her two assistants, it was not necessary that Anne should remain in +the room at night, and she did not, at least in personal presence; but +every half-hour she was at the top of the stairway, silently watching to +see if Diana fulfilled her duties. On the third day the new medicines +and the vigilance conquered. On the fifth day the sick man fell into his +first natural slumber. The house was very still. Bees droned serenely. +There was no breeze. Anne was sitting on the door-steps. "Ought I to go +now before he wakens?" she was thinking. "But I _can_ not until the +danger is surely over. He may not recognize me even now." She said to +herself that she would stay a short time longer, but without entering +the room where he was; Diana could come to her for orders, and the +others must not allude to her presence. Then, as soon as she was +satisfied that his recovery was certain, she could slip away unseen. She +went round to the back of the house to warn the others; it was all to go +on as though she was not there. + +Heathcote wakened at last, weak but conscious. He had accepted without +speech the presence of Diana and July, and had soon fallen asleep again, +"like a chile." He ate some breakfast the next morning, and the day +passed without fever. Mrs. Redd pronounced him convalescent, and +declared decisively that all he needed was to "eat hearty." The best +medicine now would be "a plenty of vittals." In accordance with this +opinion she prepared a meal of might, carried it in with her own hands, +and in two minutes, forgetting all about the instructions she had +received, betrayed Anne's secret. Diana, who was present, looked at her +reproachfully: the black skin covered more faithfulness than the white. + +"Well, I do declare to Jerusalem I forgot!" said the hostess, laughing. +"However, now you know it, Miss Douglas might as well come in, and make +you eat if she can. For eat you must, captain. Why, man alive, if you +could see yourself! You're just skin and rattling bones." + +And thus it all happened. Anne, afraid to lay so much as a finger's +weight of excitement of any kind upon him in his weak state, hearing his +voice faintly calling her name, and understanding at once that her +presence had been disclosed, came quietly in with a calm face, as though +her being there was quite commonplace and natural, and taking the plate +from Diana, sat down by the bedside and began to feed him with the bits +of chicken, which was all of the meal of might that he would touch. She +paid no attention to the expression which grew gradually in his feeble +eyes as they rested upon her and followed her motions, at first vaguely, +then with more and more of insistence and recollection. + +"Anne?" he murmured, after a while, as if questioning with himself. "It +is Anne?" + +She lifted her hand authoritatively. "Yes," she said; "but you must not +talk. Eat." + +He obeyed; but he still gazed at her, and then slowly he smiled. "You +will not run away again?" he whispered. + +"Not immediately." + +"Promise that you will not go to-night or to-morrow." + +"I promise." + +And then, as if satisfied, he fell asleep. + +He slept all night peacefully. But Anne did not once lose consciousness. +At dawn she left her sleepless couch, and dressed herself, moving about +the room cautiously, so as not to awaken the sleeper below. When she was +ready to go down, she paused a moment, thinking. Raising her eyes, she +found herself standing by chance opposite the small mirror, and her gaze +rested half unconsciously upon her own reflected image. She drew nearer, +and leaning with folded arms upon the chest of drawers, looked at +herself, as if striving to see something hitherto hidden. + +We think we know our own faces, yet they are in reality less known to us +than the countenances of our acquaintances, of our servants, even of our +dogs. If any one will stand alone close to a mirror, and look intently +at his own reflection for several minutes or longer, the impression +produced on his mind will be extraordinary. At first it is nothing but +his own well-known, perhaps well-worn, face that confronts him. Whatever +there may be of novelty in the faces of others, there is certainly +nothing of it here. So at least he believes. But after a while it grows +strange. What do those eyes mean, meeting his so mysteriously and +silently? Whose mouth is that? Whose brow? What vague suggestions of +something stronger than he is, some dormant force which laughs him to +scorn, are lurking behind that mask? In the outline of the features, the +curve of the jaw and chin, perhaps he notes a suggested likeness to this +or that animal of the lower class--a sign of some trait which he was not +conscious he possessed. And then--those strange eyes! They are his own; +nothing new; yet in their depths all sorts of mocking meanings seem to +rise. The world, with all its associations, even his own history also, +drops from him like a garment, and he is left alone, facing the problem +of his own existence. It is the old riddle of the Sphinx. + +Something of this passed through Anne's mind at that moment. She was too +young to accept misery, to generalize on sorrow, to place herself among +the large percentage of women to whom, in the great balance of +population, a happy love is denied. She felt her own wretchedness +acutely, unceasingly, while the man she loved was so near. She knew that +she would leave him, that he would go back to Helen; that she would +return to her hospital work and to Weston, and that that would be the +end. There was not in her mind a thought of anything else. Yet this +certainty did not prevent the two large slow tears that rose and welled +over as she watched the eyes in the glass, watched them as though they +were the eyes of some one else. + +Diana's head now appeared, giving the morning bulletin: the captain had +slept "like a cherrb," and was already "'mos' well." Anne went down by +the outside stairway, and ate her breakfast under the trees not far from +Mrs. Redd's out-door hearth. She told July that she should return to the +hospital during the coming night, or, if the mountain path could not be +traversed in the darkness, they must start at dawn. + +"I don't think it's quite fair of you to quit so soon," objected Mrs. +Redd, loath to lose her profit. + +"If you can find any one to escort me, I will leave you Diana and July," +answered Anne. "For myself, I can not stay longer." + +July went in with the sick man's breakfast, but came forth again +immediately. "He wants _yo'_ to come, miss." + +"I can not come now. If he eats his breakfast obediently, I will come in +and see him later," said the nurse. + +"Isn't much trouble 'bout _eating_," said July, grinning. "Cap'n he eats +like he 'mos' starved." + +Anne remained sitting under the trees, while the two black servants +attended to her patient. At ten o'clock he was reported as "sittin' up +in bed, and powerful smart." This bulletin was soon followed by another, +"Him all tired out now, and gone to sleep." + +Leaving directions for the next hour, she strolled into the woods behind +the house. She had intended to go but a short distance, but, led on by +her own restlessness and the dull pain in her heart, she wandered +farther than she knew. + +Jacob Redd's little farm was on the northern edge of the valley; its +fields and wood-lot ascended the side of the mountain. Anne, reaching +the end of the wood-lot, opened the gate, and went on up the hill. She +followed a little trail. The trees were larger than those through which +she had travelled on the opposite side of the valley; it was a wood, not +a thicket; the sunshine was hot, the green silent shade pleasant. She +went on, although now the trail was climbing upward steeply, and rocks +appeared. She had been ascending for half an hour, when she came +suddenly upon a narrow, deep ravine, crossing from left to right; the +trail turned and followed its edge; but as its depths looked cool and +inviting, and as she thought she heard the sound of a brook below, she +left the little path, and went downward into the glen. When she reached +the bottom she found herself beside a brook, flowing along over white +pebbles; it was not more than a foot wide, but full of life and +merriment, going no one knew whither, and in a great hurry about it. A +little brook is a fascinating object to persons unaccustomed to its +coaxing, vagrant witcheries. There were no brooks on the island, only +springs that trickled down from the cliffs into the lake in tiny silver +water-falls. Anne followed the brook. Absorbed in her own thoughts, and +naturally fearless, it did not occur to her that there might be danger +even in this quiet forest. She went round a curve, then round another, +when--what was that? She paused. Could he have seen her? Was he asleep? +Or--dead? + +It was a common sight enough, a dead soldier in the uniform of the +United States infantry. He was young, and his face, turned toward her, +was as peaceful as if he was sleeping; there was almost a smile on his +cold lips. With beating heart she looked around. There were twisted +broken branches above on the steep side of the ravine; he had either +fallen over, or else had dragged himself down to be out of danger, or +perhaps to get water from the brook. The death-wound was in his breast; +she could see traces of blood. But he could not have been long dead. It +had been said that there was no danger in that neighborhood at present; +then what was this? Only one of the chances of war, and a common one in +that region: an isolated soldier taken off by a bullet from behind a +tree. She stood looking sorrowfully down upon the prostrate form; then a +thought came to her. She stooped to see if she could discover the +identity of the slain man from anything his pockets contained. There was +no money, but various little possessions, a soldier's wealth--a puzzle +carved in wood and neatly fitted together, a pocket-knife, a ball of +twine, a pipe, and a ragged song-book. At last she came upon what she +had hoped to find--a letter. It was from the soldier's mother, full of +love and little items of neighborhood news, and ending, "May God bless +you, my dear and only son!" The postmark was that of a small village in +Michigan, and the mother's name was signed in full. + +One page of the letter was blank; with the poor soldier's own pencil +Anne drew upon this half sheet a sketch of his figure, lying there +peacefully beside the little brook. Then she severed a lock of his hair, +and went sadly away. July should come up and bury him; but the mother, +far away in Michigan, should have something more than the silence and +heart-breaking suspense of that terrible word "missing." The lock of +hair, the picture, and the poor little articles taken from his pockets +would be her greatest earthly treasures. For the girl forgets her lover, +and the wife forgets her husband; but the mother never forgets her dear +and only son. + +When Anne reached the farm-house it was nearly four o'clock. July's +black anxious face met hers as she glanced through the open door of the +main room; he was sitting near the bed waving a long plume of feathers +backward and forward to keep the flies from the sleeping face below. The +negro came out on tiptoe, his enormous patched old shoes looking like +caricatures, yet making no more sound, as he stole along, than the small +slippers of a woman. "Cap'en he orful disappointed 'cause you worn't +yere at dinner-time," he whispered. "An' Mars' Redd, Mis' Redd's +husband, you know, him jess come home, and they's bote gone 'cross de +valley to see some pusson they know that's sick; but they'll he back +'fore long. And Di she's gone to look fer _you_, 'cause she was moughty +oneasy 'bout yer. An' she's been gone so long that _I'm_ moughty oneasy +'bout Di. P'r'aps you seen her, miss?" + +No, Anne had not seen her. July looked toward the mountain-side +anxiously. "Cap'en he's had 'em broth, and taken 'em medicine, and has +jess settled down to a good long sleep; reckon he won't wake up till +sunset. If you'll allow, miss, I'll run up and look for Di." + +Anne saw that he intended to go, whether she wished it or not: the lazy +fellow was fond of his wife. She gave her consent, therefore, on the +condition that he would return speedily, and telling him of the dead +soldier, suggested that when Farmer Redd returned the two men should go +up the mountain together and bury him. Was there a burial-ground or +church-yard in the neighborhood? + +No; July knew of none; each family buried its dead on its own ground, +"in a corner of a meddar." He went away, and Anne sat down to keep the +watch. + +She moved the long plume to and fro, refraining from even looking at the +sleeper, lest by some occult influence he might feel the gaze and waken. +Mrs. Redd's clock in another room struck five. The atmosphere grew +breathless; the flies became tenacious, almost adhesive; the heat was +intense. She knew that a thunder-storm must be near, but from where she +sat she could not see the sky, and she was afraid to stop the motion of +the waving fan. Each moment she hoped to hear the sound of July's +returning footsteps, or those of the Redds, but none came. Then at last +with a gust and a whirl of hot sand the stillness was broken, and the +storm was upon them. She ran to close the doors, but happily the sleeper +was not awakened. The flies retreated to the ceiling, and she stood +looking at the black rushing rain. The thunder was not loud, but the +lightning was almost incessant. She now hoped that in the cooler air his +sleep would be even deeper than before. + +But when the storm had sobered down into steady soft gray rain, so that +she could open the doors again, she heard a voice speaking her name: + +"Anne." + +She turned. Heathcote was awake, and gazing at her, almost as he had +gazed in health. + +Summoning all her self-possession, yet feeling drearily, unshakenly +sure, even during the short instant of crossing the floor, that no +matter what he might say (and perhaps he would say nothing), she should +not swerve, and that this little moment, with all its pain and all its +sweetness, would, for all its pain and all its sweetness, soon be gone, +she sat down by the bedside, and taking up the fan, said, quietly: + +"I am glad you are so much better. As the fever has not returned, in a +week or two you may hope to be quite strong again. Do not try to talk, +please. I will fan you to sleep." + +"Very well," replied Heathcote, but reaching out as he spoke, and taking +hold of the edge of her sleeve, which was near him. + +"Why do you do that?" said his nurse, smiling, like one who humors the +fancies of a child. + +"To keep you from going away. You said you would be here at dinner, and +you were not." + +"I was detained. I intended to be here, but--" + +She stopped, for Heathcote had closed his eyes, and she thought he was +falling asleep. But no. + +"It is raining," he said presently, still with closed eyes. + +"Yes; a summer shower." + +"Do you remember that thunder-storm when we were in the little cave? You +are changed since then." + +She made no answer. + +"Your face has grown grave. No one would take you for a child now, but +that day in the cave you were hardly more than one." + +"You too are changed," she answered, turning the conversation from +herself; "you are thin and pale. You must sleep and eat. Surrender +yourself to that duty for the time being." She spoke with matter-of-fact +cheerfulness, but her ears were strained to catch the sound of +footsteps. None came, and the rain fell steadily. She began to dread +rain. + +Heathcote in his turn did not reply, but she was conscious that his eyes +were open, and that he was looking at her. At last he said, gently, + +"_I_ should have placed it there, Anne." + +She turned; his gaze was fixed upon her left hand, and the gold ring +given by the school-girls. + +"He is kind to you? And you--are happy?" he continued, still gazing at +the circlet. + +She did not speak; she was startled and confused. He supposed, then, +that she was married. Would it not be best to leave the error +uncorrected? But--could she succeed in this? + +"You do not answer," said Heathcote, lifting his eyes to her face. "Are +you not happy, then?" + +"Yes, I am happy," she answered, trying to smile. "But please do not +talk; you are not strong enough for talking." + +"I hope he is not here, or expected. Do not let him come in _here_, +Anne: promise me." + +"He is not coming." + +"He is in the army, I suppose, somewhere in the neighborhood; and you +are here to be near him?" + +"No." + +"Then how is it that you are here?" + +"I have been in the hospitals for a short time as nurse. But if you +persist in talking, I shall certainly leave you. Why not try to sleep?" + +"He must be a pretty sort of fellow to let you go into the hospitals," +said Heathcote, paying no heed to her threat. "I have your fatal +marriage notice, Anne; I have always kept it." + +"You have my marriage notice?" she repeated, startled out of her +caution. + +"Yes. Put your hand under my pillow and you will find my wallet; the +woman of the house has skillfully abstracted the money, but fortunately +she has not considered a newspaper slip as of any value." He took the +case from her hand, opened it, and gave her a folded square paper, cut +from the columns of a New York journal. Anne opened it, and read the +notice of the marriage of "Erastus Pronando, son of the late John +Pronando, Esquire, of Philadelphia, and Angélique, daughter of the late +William Douglas, surgeon, United States Army." + +The slip dropped from her hand. "Père Michaux must have sent it," she +thought. + +"It was in all the New York and Philadelphia papers for several days," +said Heathcote. "There seemed to be a kind of insistence about it." + +And there was. Père Michaux had hoped that the Eastern Pronandos would +see the name, and, moved by some awakening of memory or affection, would +make inquiry for this son of the lost brother, and assist him on his +journey through the crowded world. + +"I did not know that 'Anne' was a shortening of 'Angélique'; I thought +yours was the plain old English name. But Helen knew; I showed the +notice to her." + +Anne's face altered; she could not control the tremor that seized her, +and he noticed it. + +"Are you _not_ married then, after all? Tell me, Anne, tell me. You can +not deceive; you never could, poor child; I remember that well." + +She tried to rise, but he held her arm with both hands, and she could +not bring herself to use force against that feeble hold. + +"Why should you not tell me what all the world is free to know?" he +continued. "What difference does it make?" + +[Illustration: "SHE TRIED TO RISE, BUT HE HELD HER ARM WITH BOTH +HANDS."] + +"You are right; it makes no difference," she answered, seating herself, +and taking up the fan again. "It is of no especial consequence. No, I +am not married, Mr. Heathcote. Angélique is the name of my little sister +Tita, of whom you have heard me speak; we first called her Petite, then +Tita. Mr. Pronando and Tita are married." + +"The same Pronando to whom you were engaged?" + +"Yes. He is--" + +"Oh, I do not care to hear anything about _him_. Give me your hand, +Anne. Take off that ring." + +"No; it was a present from my pupils," she said, drawing back with a +smile, but at the same time an inward sigh of relief that the disclosure +was over. "They--" + +"If you knew what I suffered when I read that notice!" pursued +Heathcote, without heeding her. "The world seemed all wrong then +forever. For there was something about you, Anne, which brought out what +small good there was in my worthless self, and young as you were, you +yet in one way ruled me. I might have borne the separation itself, but +the thought that any other man should call you wife was intolerable to +me. I had--I still have it--a peculiar feeling about you. In some +mysterious way you had come to be the one real faith of my life. I was +bitterly hurt and angry when you ran away from me; but angry as I was, I +still searched for you, and would have searched again if Helen had +not--But never mind that now. If I have loved you, Anne, you have loved +me just as dearly. And now you are here, and I am here, let us ask no +more questions, but just--be happy." + +"But," said the girl, breathlessly, "Helen--?" Then she stopped. + +Heathcote was watching her. She tried to be calm, but her lips trembled. +A little skill in deception now, poor Anne, would have been of saving +help. Heathcote still watched her in silence--watched her until at last +she turned toward him. + +"Did you not know," he said, slowly meeting her eyes--"did you not know +that Helen was--married?" + +"Married? And not to you?" + +There was a perceptible pause. Then he answered. "Not to me." + +A silence followed. A whirl of conflicting feelings filled Anne's heart; +she turned her face away, blushing deeply, and conscious of it. "I hope +she is happy," she murmured at last, striving to speak naturally. + +"I think she is." Then he stretched out his hands and took hers. "Turn +this way, so that I can see you," he said, beseechingly. + +She turned, and it seemed to him that eyes never beheld so exquisite a +face. + +"My darling, do you love me? Tell me so. If I was not a poor sick +fellow, I should take you in my arms and draw your sweet face down upon +my shoulder. But, as it is--" He moved nearer, and tried to lift himself +upon his elbow. + +There was a feebleness in the effort which went to Anne's heart. She +loved him so deeply! They were both free now, and he was weak and ill. +With a sudden impulse she drew nearer, so that his head could rest on +her shoulder. He silently put out his hand; she took it in hers; then he +closed his eyes as if content. + +As for Anne, she felt an outburst of happiness almost too great to bear; +her breath came and went so quickly that Heathcote perceived it, and +raising her hand he pressed it to his lips. Still he did not open his +eyes, or speak one word further to the blushing, beautiful woman whose +arm was supporting him, and whose eyes, timid yet loving, were resting +upon his face. If he had been strong, she would never have yielded so +far. But nothing appeals so powerfully to a woman's heart as the sudden +feebleness of a strong man--the man she loves. It is so new and +perilously sweet that he should be dependent upon her, that her arm +should be needed to support him, that his weak voice should call her +name with childish loneliness and impatience if she is not there. And so +Anne at last no longer turned her eyes away, but looked down upon the +face lying upon her shoulder--a face worn by illness and bronzed by +exposure, but the same face still, the face of the summer idler at +Caryl's, the face she had seen during those long hours in the sunset +arbor in the garden that morning, the face of the man who had followed +her westward, and who now, after long hopeless loneliness and pain, was +with her again, and her own forever. A rush of tenderest pity came over +her as she noted the hollows at the temples, and the dark shadows under +the closed eyes. She bent her head, and touched his closely cut hair +with her lips. + +"Do not," said Heathcote. + +She had not thought that he would perceive the girlish little caress; +she drew back quickly. Then he opened his eyes. It seemed almost as if +he had been trying to keep them shut. + +"It is of no use," he murmured, looking at her. "Kiss me, Anne. Kiss me +once. Oh, my darling! my darling!" And with more strength than she +supposed him to possess, he threw his arms round her, drew her lovely +face down to his and kissed her fondly, not once, but many times. + +And she, at first resisting love's sweet violence, at last yielded to +it; for, she loved him. + +The rain still fell; it was growing toward twilight. Footsteps were +approaching. + +"It is Diana," said Anne. + +But Heathcote still held her. + +"Please let me go," she said, smiling happily. + +"Then tell me you love me." + +"You know I do, Ward," she answered, blushing deeply, yet with all the +old honesty in her sincere eyes. + +"Will you come and say good-night to me if I let you go now?" + +"Yes." + +Her beautiful lips were near his; he could not help kissing her once +more. Then he released her. + +The room was dim. Opening the door, she saw Diana and July coming +through the shed toward her, their clothes wet and streaked with red +clay. Diana explained their long absence gravely. July had not been able +to restrain his curiosity about the dead soldier, and when he finally +found his wife, where she was searching for "miss," they were both so +far up the mountain that he announced his intention of going to "find +the pore fellow anyway," and that she might go with him or return +homeward as she pleased. + +"Sence he would go, it was better fo' me to go too, miss," said the +black wife, glancing at her husband with some severity. "An' while we +was about it, we jess buried him." + +The sternly honest principles of Diana countenanced no rifling of +pockets, no thefts of clothing; she would not trust July alone with the +dead man. Who knew what temptation there might be in the shape of a +pocket-knife? Without putting her fears into words, however--for she +always carefully guarded her husband's dignity--she accompanied him, +stood by while he made his examination, and then waited alone in the +ravine while he went to a farm-house a mile or two distant and returned +with two other blacks, who assisted in digging the grave. The rain +pattered down upon the leaves overhead, and at last reached her and the +dead, whose face she had reverently covered with her clean white apron. +When all was ready, they carefully lowered the body to its last +resting-place, first lining the hollow with fresh green leaves, +according to the rude unconscious poetry which the negroes, left to +themselves, often display. Diana had then kneeled down and "offered a +powerfu' prayer," so July said. Then, having made a "firs'-rate moun' +ober him," they had come away, leaving him to his long repose. + +Half an hour later the Redds returned also. By contrast with the +preceding stillness, the little house seemed full to overflowing. Anne +busied herself in household tasks, and let the others wait upon the +patient. But she did not deny herself the pleasure of looking at him +from the other side of the room now and then, and she smiled brightly +whenever his eyes met hers and gave back her mute salutation. + +Heathcote was so much better that only July was to watch that night; +Diana was to enjoy an unbroken night's rest, with a pillow and a blanket +upon the hay in the barn. July went out to arrange this bed for his +wife, and then, as the patient was for the moment left alone, Anne stole +down from her loft to keep her promise. + +"Good-night," she murmured, bending over him. "Do not keep me, +good-night." + +He drew her toward him, but, laughing lightly and happily, she slipped +from his grasp and was gone. + +When July returned, there was no one there but his patient, who did not +have so quiet a night as they had anticipated, being restless, tormented +apparently by troubled dreams. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + + "My only wickedness is that I love you; my only goodness, the + same."--ANONYMOUS. + + "A Durwaish in his prayer said: 'O God, show kindness toward the + wicked; for on the good Thou hast already bestowed kindness enough + by having created them virtuous.'"--SAADI. + + +Anne passed the next day in the same state of vivid happiness. The mere +joy of the present was enough for her; she thought not as yet of the +future, of next month, next week, or even to-morrow. It sufficed that +they were there together, and free without wrong to love each other. +During the morning there came no second chance for their being alone, +and Heathcote grew irritated as the slow hours passed. Farmer Redd +esteemed it his duty, now that he was at home again, to entertain his +guest whenever, from his open eyes, he judged him ready for +conversation; and Mrs. Redd, July, and Diana seemed to have grown into +six persons at least, from their continuous appearances at the door. At +last, about five o'clock, Anne was left alone in the room, and his +impatient eyes immediately summoned her. Smiling at his irritation, she +sat down by the bedside and took up the fan. + +"You need not do that," he said; "or rather, yes, do. It will keep you +here, at any rate. Where _have_ you been all day?" + +They could talk in low tones unheard; but through the open door Mrs. +Redd and Diana were visible, taking down clothes from the line. +Heathcote watched them for a moment, and then looked at his nurse with +silent wistfulness. + +"But it is a great happiness merely to be together," said Anne, +answering the look in words. + +"Yes, I know it; but yet-- Tell me, Anne, do you love me?" + +"You know I do; in truth, you have told me you knew it more times than +was generous," she answered, almost gayly. She was fairly light-hearted +now with happiness. + +"That is not what I want. Look at me and tell me; do, dear." He spoke +urgently, almost feverishly; a sombre restless light burned in his eyes. + +And then she bent forward and looked at him with so much love that his +inmost heart was stirred. "I love you with all my heart, all my being," +she murmured, even the fair young beauty of her face eclipsed by the +light from the soul within. He saw then what he had seen before--how +deep was her love for him. But this time there was in it no fear; only +perfect trust. + +He turned his head away as if struggling with some hidden emotion. But +Anne, recovering herself, fell back into her former content, and began +to talk with the child-like ease of happiness. She told him of her life, +all that had happened since their parting. Once or twice, when her story +approached their past, and she made some chance inquiry, he stopped her. +"Do not ask questions," he said; "let us rest content with what we +have;" and she, willing to follow his fancy, smiled and refrained. He +lay silently watching her as she talked. Her faith in him was absolute; +it was part of her nature, and he knew her nature. It was because she +was what she was that he had loved her, when all the habits and purposes +of his life were directly opposed to it. + +"Anne," he said, "when will you marry me?" + +"Whenever you wish," she answered, with what was to him the sweetest +expression of obedience that a girl's pure eyes ever held. + +"Will you go with me, as soon as I am able, and let some clergyman in +the nearest village marry us?" + +"I would rather have Miss Lois come, and little André; still, Ward, it +shall be as you wish." + +[Illustration: "WEAK, HOLDING ON BY THE TREES."] + +He took her hand, and laid his hot cheek upon it; a moisture gathered in +his eyes. "You trust me entirely. You would put your hand in mine +to-night and go out into the world with me unquestioning?" + +"Yes." + +"Kiss me once, love--just once more." His face was altering; its faint +color had faded, and a brown pallor was taking its place. + +"You are tired," said Anne, regretfully; "I have talked to you too +long." What he had said made no especial impression upon her; of course +she trusted him. + +"Kiss me," he said again; "only once more, love." There was a strange +dulled look in his eyes; she missed the expression which had lain there +since the avowal of the day before. She turned; there was no one in +sight--the women had gone to the end of the garden. She bent over and +kissed him with timid tenderness, and as her lips touched his cheek, +tears stole from his eyes under the closed lashes. Then, as steps were +approaching, he turned his face toward the wall, and covered his eyes +with his hand. She thought that he was tired, that he had been overtaxed +by all that had happened, and going out softly she cautioned the others. +"Do not go in at present; I think he is falling asleep." + +"Well, then, I'll jest take this time to run across to Miss Pendleton's +and git some of that yere fine meal; I reckon the captain will like a +cake of it for supper," said Mrs. Redd. "And, Di, you go down to +Dawson's and git a young chicken for briling. No one need say as how the +captain don't have enough to eat yere." + +July was left in charge. Anne took her straw hat, passed through the +garden, and into the wood-lot behind, where she strolled to and fro, +looking at the hues of the sunset through the trees, although not in +reality conscious of the colors at all, save as part of the great +boundless joy of the day. + +She had been there some time, when a sound roused her; she lifted her +eyes. Was it a ghost approaching? + +Weak, holding on by the trees, a shadow of his former self, it was Ward +Heathcote who was coming toward her as well as he could, swerving a +little now and then, and moving unsteadily, yet walking. July had +deserted his post, and the patient, left alone, had risen, dressed +himself unaided, and was coming to find her. + +With a cry she went to meet him, and drew him down upon a fallen tree +trunk. "What _can_ you mean?" she said, kneeling down to support him. + +"Do not," he answered (and the voice was unlike Heathcote's). "I will +move along so that I can lean against this tree. Come where I can see +you, Anne; I have something to say." + +"Let us first go back to the house. Then you can say it." + +But he only made a motion of refusal, and, startled by his manner, she +came and stood before him as he desired. He began to speak at once, and +rapidly. + +"Anne, I have deceived you. Helen is married; but _I_--am her husband." + +She gazed at him. Not a muscle or feature had stirred, yet her whole +face was altered. + +"I did not mean to deceive you; there was no plan. It was a wild +temptation that swept over me suddenly when I found that you were +free--not married as I had thought; that you still loved me, and that +you--did not know. I said to myself, let me have the sweetness of her +love for one short day, one short day only, and then I will tell her +all. Yet I might have let it go on for a while longer, Anne, if it had +not been for your own words this afternoon: you would go with me +anywhere, at any time, trusting me utterly, loving me as you only can +love. Your faith has humiliated me; your unquestioning trust has made me +ashamed. And so I have come to tell you the deception, and to tell you +also that I love you so that I will no longer trust myself. I do not say +that I can not, but that I will not. And I feel the strongest +self-reproach of my life that I took advantage of your innocent faith to +draw out, even for that short time, the proof which I did not need; for +ever since that morning in the garden, Anne, I have known that you loved +me. It was that which hurt me in your marriage. But you are so sweet, +so dangerously sweet to me, and I--have not been accustomed to deny +myself. This is no excuse; I do not offer it as such. But remember what +kind of a man I have been; remember that I love you, and--forgive me." + +For the first time he now looked at her. Still and white as a snow +statue, she met his gaze mutely. + +"I can say no more, Anne, unless you tell me you forgive me." + +She did not answer. He moved as if to rise and come to her, but she +stretched out her hand to keep him back. + +"You are too weak," she murmured, hurriedly. "Yes, yes, I forgive you." + +"You will wish to know how it all happened," he began again, and his +voice showed his increasing exhaustion. + +"No; I do not care to hear." + +"I will write it, then." + +There was a momentary pause; he closed his eyes. The girl, noting, amid +her own suffering, the deathly look upon his face, came to his side. +"You must go back to the house," she said. "Will my arm be enough? Or +shall I call July?" + +He looked at her; a light came back into his eyes. "Anne," he whispered, +"would not the whole world be well lost to us if we could have but love +and each other?" + +She returned his gaze. "Yes," she said, "it would--if happiness were +all." + +"Then you _would_ be happy with me, darling?" + +"Yes." + +"Alone with me, and--in banishment?" + +"In banishment, in disgrace, in poverty, pain, and death," she answered, +steadily. + +"Then you will go with me, trusting to me only?" He was holding her +hands now, and she did not withdraw them. + +"No," she answered; "never. If happiness were all, I said. But it is not +all. There is something nearer, higher than happiness." She paused. Then +rapidly and passionately these words broke from her: "Ward, Ward, you +are far more than my life to me. Do not kill me, kill my love for you, +my faith in you, by trying to tempt me more. You could not succeed; I +tell you plainly you could never succeed; but it is not on that account +I speak. It is because it would kill me to lose my belief in you, my +love, my only, only love!" + +"But I am not so good as you think," murmured Heathcote, leaning his +head against her. His hands, still holding hers, were growing cold. + +"But you are brave. And you _shall_ be true. Go back to Helen, and try +to do what is right, as _I_ also shall try." + +"But you--that is different. _You_ do not care." + +"Not care!" she repeated, and her voice quivered and broke. "You _know_ +that is false." + +"It is. Forgive me." + +"Promise me that you will go back; promise for my sake, Ward. Light +words are often spoken about a broken heart; but I think, if you fail me +now, my heart will break indeed." + +"What must I do?" + +"Go back to Helen--to your life, whatever it is." + +"And shall I see you again?" + +"No." + +"It is too hard, too hard," he whispered, putting his arms round her. + +But she unclasped them. "I have your promise?" she said. + +"No." + +"Then I _take_ it." And lightly touching his forehead with her lips, she +turned and was gone. + +When July and Diana came to bring back their foolhardy patient, they +found him lying on the earth so still and cold that it seemed as if he +were dead. That night the fever appeared again. But there was only Diana +to nurse him now; Anne was gone. + +Farmer Redd acted as guide and escort back to Peterson's Mill; but the +pale young nurse would not stop, begging Dr. Flower to send her onward +immediately to Number Two. She was so worn and changed that the surgeon +feared that fever had already attacked her, and he sent a private note +to the surgeon of Number Two, recommending that Miss Douglas should at +once be returned to Number One, and, if possible, sent northward to her +home. But when Anne arrived at Number One, and saw again the sweet face +of Mrs. Barstow, when she felt herself safely surrounded by the old +work, she said that she would stay for a few days longer. While her +hands were busy, she could think; as she could not sleep, she would +watch. She felt that she had now to learn life entirely anew; not only +herself, but the very sky, sunshine, and air. The world was altered. + +On the seventh morning a letter came; it was from Heathcote, and had +been forwarded from Peterson's Mill. She kept it until she had a +half-hour to herself, and then, going to the bank of the river, she sat +down under the trees and opened it. Slowly; for it might be for good, or +it might be for evil; but, in any case, it was her last. She would not +allow herself to receive or read another. + +It was a long letter, written with pencil upon coarse blue-lined paper. +After saying that the fever had disappeared, and that before long he +should try to rejoin his regiment, the words went on as follows: + +"I said that I would write and tell you all. When you ran away from me +last year, I was deeply hurt; I searched for you, but could find no +clew. Then I went back eastward, joined the camping party, and after a +day or two returned with them to Caryl's. No one suspected where I had +been. From Caryl's we all went down to the city together, and the winter +began. + +"I was, in a certain way, engaged to Helen; yet I was not bound. Nor was +she. I liked her: she had known how to adapt herself to me always. But I +had never been in any haste; and I wondered sometimes why she held to +me, when there were other men, worth more in every way than Ward +Heathcote, who admired her as much as I did. But I did not then know +that she loved me. I know it now. + +"After our return to the city, I never spoke of you; but now and then +she mentioned your name of her own accord, and I--listened. She was much +surprised that you did not write to her; she knew no more where you +were than I did, and hoped every day for a letter; so did I. But you +did not write. + +"All this time--I do not like to say it, yet it is part of the +story--she made herself my slave. There was nothing I could say or do, +no matter how arbitrary, to which she did not yield, in which she did +not acquiesce. No word concerning marriage was spoken, even our former +vague lovers' talk had ceased; for, after you hurt me so deeply, Anne, I +had not the heart for it. My temper was anything but pleasant. The +winter moved on; I had no plan; I let things take their course. But I +always expected to find you in some way, to see you again, until--that +marriage notice appeared. I took it to Helen. 'It is Anne, I suppose?' I +said. She read it, and answered, 'Yes.' She was deceived, just as I +was." + +Here Anne put down the letter, and looked off over the river. Helen knew +that Tita's name was Angélique, and that the sister's was plain Anne. It +was a lie direct. But Heathcote did not know it. "He shall never know +through me," she thought, with stern sadness. + +The letter went on: "I think she had not suspected me before, Anne--I +mean in connection with you: she was always thinking of Rachel. But she +did then, and I saw it. I was so cut up about it that I concealed +nothing. About a week after that she was thrown from her carriage. They +thought she was dying, and sent for me. Miss Teller was in the hall +waiting; she took me into the library, and said that the doctors thought +Helen might live if they could only rouse her, but that she seemed to be +sinking into a stupor. With tears rolling down her cheeks, she said, +'Ward, I know you love her, and she has long loved you. But you have +said nothing, and it has worn upon her. Go to her and save her life. +_You_ can.' + +"She took me into the room, and went out, closing the door. Helen was +lying on a couch; I thought she was already dead. But when I bent over +her and spoke her name, she opened her eyes, and knew me immediately. I +was shocked by her death-like face. It was all so sudden. I had left her +the night before, dressed for a ball. She whispered to me to lift her +in my arms, so that she might die there; but I was afraid to move her, +lest her suffering should increase. She begged with so much earnestness, +however, that at last, gently as I could, I lifted and held her. 'I am +going to die,' she whispered, 'so I need not care any more, or try. I +have always loved you, Ward. I loved you even when I married Richard.' I +thought her mind was wandering; and she must have seen that I did, +because she spoke again, and this time aloud. 'I am perfectly myself. I +tell you that I have always loved you; you _shall_ know it before I +die.' Miss Teller said, 'And he loves you also, my darling child; he has +told me so. Now, for _his_ sake you will try to recover and be his +wife.' + +"We were married two days later. The doctors advised it, because when I +was not there Helen sank rapidly. I took care of the poor girl for +weeks; she ate only from my hand. As she grew stronger, I taught her to +walk again, and carried her in my arms up and down stairs. When at last +she began to improve, she gained strength rapidly; she is now well, save +that she will never be able to walk far or dance. I think she is happy. +It seems a feeble thing to say, and yet it is something--I am always +kind to Helen. + +"As for you--it was all a wild, sudden temptation. + +"I will go back to my regiment (as to my being in the army, after that +attack on Sumter it seemed to me the only thing to do). I will make no +attempt to follow you. In short, I will do--as well as I can. It may not +be very well. + +W. H." + + * * * * * + +That was all. Anne, miserable, lonely, broken-hearted, as she was, felt +that she had in one way conquered. She leaned her head against the tree +trunk, and sat for some time with her eyes closed. Then she tore the +letter into fragments, threw them into the river, and watched the slow +current bear them away. When the last one had disappeared, she rose and +went back to the hospital. + +"The clean clothes have been brought in, Miss Douglas," said the +surgeon's assistant. "Can you sort them?" + +"Yes," she replied. And dull life moved on again. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + + "O Toil, O Loneliness, O Poverty, doing the right makes ye no + easier." + + +The next morning the new nurses, long delayed, sent by the Weston Aid +Society, arrived at Number One, and Mary Crane, Mrs. Barstow, and Anne +were relieved from duty, and returned to their Northern home. During the +journey Anne decided that she must not remain in Weston. It was a hard +decision, but it seemed to her inevitable. This man whom she loved knew +that her home was there. He had said that he would not follow her; but +could she depend upon his promise? Even in saying that he would try to +do as well as he could, he had distinctly added that it might "not be +very well." She must leave no temptation in his path, or her own. She +must put it out of his power to find her, out of hers to meet him. She +must go away, leaving no trace behind. + +She felt deeply thankful that at the present moment her movements were +not cramped by the wants of the children; for if they had been in +pressing need, she must have staid--have staid and faced the fear and +the danger. Now she could go. But whither? It would be hard to go out +into the broad world again, this time more solitary than before. After +much thought, she decided to go eastward to the half-house, +Jeanne-Armande having given her permission to use it. It would be at +least a shelter over her head, and probably old Nora would be glad to +come and stay with her. With this little home as background, she hoped +to be able to obtain pupils in the city, little girls to whom she could +be day governess, giving lessons in music and French. But the pupils: +how could she obtain them? Whose influence could she hope for? She could +not go to Tante, lest Helen should hear of her presence. At first it +seemed as if there were no one; she went over and over in vain her +meagre list of friends. Suddenly a remembrance of the little German +music-master, who had taught classical music, and hated Belzini, came to +her; he was no longer at the Moreau school, and she had his address. He +had been especially kind. She summoned her courage and wrote to him. +Herr Scheffel's reply came promptly and cordially. "I have your letter +received, and I remember you entirely. I know not now all I can promise, +as my season of lessons is not yet begun, but two little girls you can +have at once for scales, though much they will not pay. But with your +voice, honored Fräulein, a place in a church choir is the best, and for +that I will do my very best endeavor. But while you make a beginning, +honored Fräulein, take my wife and I for friends. Our loaf and our cup, +and our hearts too, are all yours." + +The little German had liked Anne: this pupil, and this one only, had +cheered the dull hours he had spent in the little third-story room, +where he, the piano, and the screen had their cramped abode. Anne smiled +as she gratefully read his warm-hearted letter, his offer of his cup and +his loaf; she could hear him saying it--his "gup" and his "loave," and +"two liddle girls for sgales, though moche they will not bay." She had +written to old Nora also, and the answer (a niece acting as scribe) +declared, with Hibernian effusiveness, and a curious assemblage of +negatives, that she would be glad to return to the half-house on +Jeanne-Armande's old terms, namely, her living, but no wages. She did +not add that, owing to rheumatism, she was unable to obtain work where +she was; she left Anne to find that out for herself. But even old Nora, +bandaged in red flannel, her gait reduced to a limp, was a companion +worth having when one is companionless. During the interval, Anne had +received several letters from Miss Lois. Little André was better, but +the doctors advised that he should remain where he was through the +winter. Miss Lois wrote that she was willing to remain, in the hope of +benefit to the suffering boy, and how great a concession this was from +the careful housekeeper and home-lover only Anne could know. (But she +did not know how close the child had grown to Miss Lois's heart.) This +new plan would prevent their coming to Weston at present. Thankful now +for what would have been, under other circumstances, a great +disappointment, Anne resigned her position in the Weston school, and +went away, at the last suddenly, and evading all inquiries. Mrs. Green +was absent, the woman in temporary charge of the lodgings was not +curious, and the lonely young teacher was able to carry out her design. +She left Weston alone in the cold dawn of a dark morning, her face +turned eastward. + +It was a courageous journey; only Herr Scheffel to rely upon, and the +great stony-hearted city to encounter in the hard struggle for daily +bread. Yet she felt that she must not linger in Weston; and she felt, +too, that she must not add herself to Miss Lois's cares, but rather make +a strong effort to secure a new position as soon as possible, in order +to send money to André. She thought that she would be safely hidden at +the half-house. Heathcote knew that Jeanne-Armande was in Europe, and +therefore he would not think of her in connection with Lancaster, but +would suppose that she was still in Weston, or, if not there, then at +home on her Northern island. In addition, one is never so well hidden as +in the crowds of a large city. But when she saw the spires, as the train +swept over the salt marshes, her heart began to beat: the blur of roofs +seemed so vast, and herself so small and alone! But she made the transit +safely, and drove up to the door of the half-house in the red wagon, +with Li as driver, at sunset. A figure was sitting on the steps outside, +with a large bundle at its feet; it was Nora. Anne opened the door with +Jeanne-Armande's key, and they entered together. + +"Oh, wirra, wirra! Miss Douglas dear, and did ye know she'd taken out +all the furrrniture? Sure the ould shell is impty." It was true, and +drearily unexpected. + +Jeanne-Armande, finding time to make a flying visit to her country +residence the day before she sailed, had been seized with the sudden +suspicion that certain articles were missing, notably a green wooden +pail and a window-curtain. The young priest, who had met her there by +appointment, and opened the door for her with his key (what mazes of +roundabout ways homeward, in order to divert suspicion, Jeanne-Armande +required of him that day!), was of the opinion that she was mistaken. +But no; Jeanne-Armande was never mistaken. She knew just where she had +left that pail, and as for the pattern of the flowers upon that curtain, +she knew every petal. Haunted by a vision of the abstraction of all her +household furniture, piece by piece, during her long absence--tables, +chairs, pans, and candle-sticks following each other through back +windows, moved by invisible hands--she was seized with an inspiration on +the spot: she would sell off all her furniture by public sale that very +hour, and leave only an empty house behind her. She knew that she was +considered a mystery in the neighborhood; probably, then, people would +come to a Mystery's sale, and pay good prices for a Mystery's furniture. +Of one thing she was certain--no buyer in that region knew how to buy +for prices as low as she herself had paid. Her method of buying was +genius. In five minutes a boy and a bell were secured, in half an hour +the whole neighborhood had heard the announcement, and, as mademoiselle +had anticipated, flocked to the sale. She attended to all negotiations +in person, still in her rôle of a Mystery, and sailed for Europe the +next day in triumph, having in her pocket nearly twice the sum she had +originally expended. She did not once think of Anne in connection with +this. Although she had given her authority to use the half-house, and +had intrusted to her care her own key, it seemed almost impossible that +the young girl would wish to use it. For was she not admirably +established at Weston, with all the advantages of mademoiselle's own +name and position behind her? + +And thus it was that only bare walls met Anne's eyes as, followed by +Nora, she went from room to room, asking herself silently what she +should do in this new emergency that confronted her. One door they found +locked; it was the door of the store-room: there must, then, be +something within. Li was summoned to break the lock, and nothing loath, +he broke it so well that it was useless from that hour. Yes, here was +something--the unsold articles, carefully placed in order. A chair, a +kitchen table, an iron tea-kettle with a hole in it, and two straw +beds--the covers hanging on nails, and the straw tied in bundles +beneath; there was also a collection of wooden boxes, which mademoiselle +had endeavored, but without success, to dispose of as "old, superior, +and well-seasoned kindling-wood." It was a meagre supply of furniture +with which to begin housekeeping, a collection conspicuous for what it +lacked. But Anne, summoning courage, directed Li to carry down stairs +all the articles, such as they were, while she cheered old Nora with the +promise to buy whatever was necessary, and asked her to unpack the few +supplies she had herself purchased on her way through the city. The +kitchen stove was gone; but there was a fire-place, and Li made a bright +fire with some of the superior kindling-wood, mended the kettle, filled +it, and hung it over the crackling flame. The boy enjoyed it all +greatly. He stuffed the cases with straw, and dragged them down stairs, +he brought down the chair and table, and piled up boxes for a second +seat, he pinned up Anne's shawl for a curtain, and then volunteered to +go to the store for whatever was necessary, insisting, however, upon the +strict allowance of two spoons, two plates, and two cups only. It was +all like _Robinson Crusoe_ and _The Swiss Family Robinson_, and more +than two would infringe upon the severe paucity required by those +admirable narratives. When he returned with his burden, he affably +offered to remain and take supper with them; in truth, it was difficult +to leave such a fascinating scene as two straw beds on the floor, and a +kettle swinging over a hearth fire, like a gypsy camp--at least as Li +imagined it, for that essence of vagrant romanticism is absent from +American life, the so-called gypsies always turning out impostors, with +neither donkeys, tents, nor camp fires, and instead of the ancient and +mysterious language described by Borrow, using generally the well-known +and unpoetical dialect that belongs to modern and Americanized Erin. At +last, however, Li departed; Anne fastened the door. Old Nora was soon +asleep on the straw, but not her young mistress, in whose mind figures, +added together and set opposite each other, were inscribing themselves +like letters of fire on a black wall. She had not expected any such +outlay as would now be required, and the money she had brought with her +would not admit it. At last, troubled and despairing, she rose from her +hard couch, went to the window, and looked out. Overhead the stars were +serenely shining; her mind went back to the little window of her room in +the old Agency. These were the same stars; God was the same God; would +He not show her a way? Quieted, she returned to her straw, and soon fell +asleep. + +In the morning they had a gypsy breakfast. The sun shone brightly, and +even in the empty rooms the young day looked hopeful. The mistress of +the house went in to the city on the morning train, and in spite of all +lacks, in spite of all her trouble and care, it was a beautiful girl who +entered the train at Lancaster station, and caused for a moment the +chronically tired business men to forget their damp-smelling morning +papers as they looked at her. For Anne was constantly growing more +beautiful; nothing had had power as yet to arrest the strong course of +nature. Sorrow had but added a more ripened charm, since now the old +child-like openness was gone, and in its place was a knowledge of the +depth and the richness and the pain of life, and a reticence. The open +page had been written upon, and turned down. Riding on toward the city, +she was, however, as unconscious of any observation she attracted as if +she had been a girl of marble. Hers was not one of those natures which +can follow at a time but one idea; yet something of the intensity which +such natures have--the nature of all enthusiasts and partisans--was +hers, owing to the strength of the few feelings which absorbed her. For +the thousand-and-one changing interests, fancies, and impulses which +actuate most young girls there was in her heart no room. It was not that +she thought and imagined less, but that she loved more. + +Herr Scheffel received her in his small parlor. It was over the shop of +a musical instrument maker, a German also. Anne looked into his small +show-window while she was waiting for the street door to be opened, +noted the great brass tubes disposed diagonally, the accordions in a +rampart, the pavement of little music-boxes with views of Switzerland on +their lids, and the violins in apotheosis above. Behind the inner glass +she saw the instrument maker himself dusting a tambourine. She imagined +him playing on it all alone on rainy evenings for company, with the +other instruments looking on in a friendly way. Here Herr Scheffel's +cheery wife opened the door, and upon learning the name, welcomed her +visitor heartily, and ushered her up the narrow stairway. + +"How you haf zhanged!" said Herr Scheffel, lifting his hands in +astonishment as he met her at the entrance. "But not for the vorse, +Fräulein. On the gontrary!" He bowed gallantly, and brought forward his +best arm-chair, then bowed again, sat down opposite, folded his hands, +and was ready for business or pleasure, as she saw fit to select. Anne +had come to him hoping, but not expecting. Fortune favored her, however; +or rather, as usual, some one had taken hold of Fortune, and forced her +to extend her favor, the some one in this instance being the little +music-master himself, who had not only bestowed two of his own scholars +as a beginning, but had also obtained for her a trial place in a church +choir. He now went with her without delay to the residence of the little +pupils, and arranged for the first lesson; then he took her to visit the +contralto of the choir, whose good-will he had already besought for the +young stranger. The contralto was a thin, disappointed little woman, +with rather a bad temper; but as she liked Anne's voice, and hated the +organist and tenor, she mentally organized an alliance offensive and +defensive on the spot, contralto, soprano, and basso against the other +two, with possibilities as to the rector thrown in. For, as the rector +regularly attended the rehearsals (under the mild delusion that he was +directing the choir), the contralto hoped that the new soprano's face, +as well as voice, would draw him out of his guarded neutrality, and +give to their side the balance of power. So, being in a friendly mood, +she went over the anthems with Anne, and when the little rehearsal was +ended, Herr Scheffel took her thin hand, and bowed over it profoundly. +Miss Pratt was a native of Maine, and despised romance, yet she was not +altogether displeased with that bow. Sunday morning came; the new voice +conquered. Anne was engaged to fill the vacant place in the choir. +Furniture was now purchased for the empty little home, but very +sparingly. It looked as though it would be cold there in the winter. +But--winter was not yet come. + +Slowly she gained other pupils; but still only little girls "for the +sgales," as Herr Scheffel said. The older scholars for whom she had +hoped did not as yet seek her. But the little household lived. + +In the mean while Père Michaux on the island and Miss Lois at the +springs had both been taken by surprise by Anne's sudden departure from +Weston. They knew nothing of it until she was safely in the half-house. +But poor Miss Lois, ever since the affair of Tita and Rast, had +cynically held that there was no accounting for anybody or anything in +this world, and she therefore remained silent. Père Michaux divined that +there was something behind; but as Anne offered no explanation, he asked +no question. In truth, the old priest had a faith in her not unlike that +which had taken possession of Heathcote. What was it that gave these two +men of the world this faith? It was not her innocence alone, for many +are innocent. It was her sincerity, combined with the peculiar intensity +of feeling which lay beneath the surface--an intensity of which she was +herself unconscious, but which their eyes could plainly perceive, and, +for its great rarity, admire, as the one perfect pearl is admired among +the thousands of its compeers by those who have knowledge and experience +enough to appreciate its flawlessness. But the majority have not this +knowledge; they admire mere size, or a pear-like shape, or perhaps some +eccentricity of color. Thus the perfect one is guarded, and the world is +not reduced to despair. + +During these days in the city Anne had thought often of Helen. Her +engagements were all in another quarter, distant from Miss Teller's +residence; she would not have accepted pupils in that neighborhood. But +it was not probable that any would be offered to her in so fashionable a +locality. She did not allow herself even to approach that part of the +city, or to enter the streets leading to it, yet many times she found +herself longing to see the house in spite of her determination, and +thinking that if she wore a thick veil, so that no one would recognize +her, there would be no danger, and she might catch a glimpse of Miss +Teller, or even of Helen. But she never yielded to these longings. +October passed into November, and November into December, and she did +not once transgress her rules. + +Early in December she obtained a new pupil, her first in vocal music. +She gave two lessons without any unusual occurrence, and then--Of all +the powers that make or mar us, the most autocratic is Chance. Let not +the name of Fate be mentioned in its presence; let Luck hide its head. +For Luck is but the man himself, and Fate deals only with great +questions; but Chance attacks all irrelevantly and at random. Though man +avoids, arranges, labors, and plans, one stroke from its wand destroys +all. Anne had avoided, arranged, labored, and planned, yet on her way to +give the third lesson to this new pupil she came suddenly upon--Helen. + +[Illustration: "SAW HER SLOWLY ASCEND THE HOUSE STEPS."] + +On the opposite side a carriage had stopped; the footman opened the +door, and a servant came from the house to assist its occupant. Anne's +eyes by chance were resting upon the group. She saw a lady lifted to the +pavement; then saw her slowly ascend the house steps, while a maid +followed with shawls and wraps. It was Helen. Anne's eyes recognized her +instantly. She was unchanged--proud, graceful, and exquisitely attired +as ever, in spite of her slow step and need of assistance. Involuntarily +the girl opposite had paused; then, recovering herself, she drew down +her veil and walked on, her heart beating rapidly, her breath coming in +throbs. But no one had noticed her. Helen was already within the +house, and the servant was closing the door; then the footman came +down the steps, sprang up to his place, and the carriage rolled away. + +She went on to her pupil's residence, and, quietly as she could, asked, +upon the first opportunity, her question. + +"A lady who was assisted up the steps? Oh yes, I know whom you mean; it +is Mrs. Ward Heathcote," replied the girl-pupil. "Isn't she too lovely! +Did you see her face?" + +"Yes. Does she live in that house?" + +"I am delighted to say that she _does_. She used to live with her aunt, +Miss Teller, but it seems that she inherited this old house over here +from her grandfather, who died not long ago, and she has taken a fancy +to live in it. Of course _I_ think all her fancies are seraphic, and +principally this one, since it has brought her near _us_. I look at her +half the time; just gaze and gaze!" Cora was sixteen, and very pretty; +she talked in the dialect of her age and set. Launched now on a favorite +topic, she rushed on, while the teacher, with downcast eyes, listened, +and rolled and unrolled the sheet of music in her hands. Mrs. +Heathcote's beauty; Mrs. Heathcote's wealth; Mrs. Heathcote's wonderful +costumes; Mrs. Heathcote's romantic marriage, after a fall from her +carriage; Mrs. Heathcote's husband, "_chivalrously_ in the army, with a +pair of _eyes_, Miss Douglas, which, I do assure you, are--well, +_murderously_ beautiful is not a word to express it! Not that he +_cares_. The most _indifferent_ person! Still, if you could _see_ them, +you would _know_ what I mean." Cora told all that she knew, and more +than she knew. The two households had no acquaintance, Anne learned; the +school-girl had obtained her information from other sources. There +would, then, be no danger of discovery in that way. The silent listener +could not help listening while Cora said that Captain Heathcote had not +returned home since his first departure; that he had been seriously ill +somewhere in the West, but having recovered, had immediately returned to +his regiment without coming home on furlough, as others always did, +after an illness, or even the pretense of one, which conduct Cora +considered so "perfectly grand" that she wondered "the papers" did not +"blazon it aloft." At last even the school-girl's volubility and +adjectives were exhausted, and the monologue came to an end. Then the +teacher gave her lesson, and the words she had heard sounded in her ears +like the roar of the sea in a storm--it seemed as though she must be +speaking loudly in order to drown it. But her pupil noticed nothing, +save that Miss Douglas was more quiet than usual, and perhaps more pale. +When she went away, she turned eastward, in order not to pass the house +a second time--the house that held Helen. But she need not have taken +the precaution; hers was not a figure upon which the eyes of Mrs. +Heathcote would be likely to dwell. In the city, unfashionable attire is +like the ring of Gyges, it renders the wearer, if not invisible, at +least unseen. + +That night she could not sleep; she could do nothing but think of Helen, +Helen, her once dearly loved friend--Helen, his wife. She knew that she +must give up this new danger, and she knew also that she loved the +danger--these chances of a glimpse of Helen, Helen's home, and--yes, it +might be, at some future time, Helen's husband. But she conquered +herself again. In the morning she wrote a note to Cora's mother, saying +that she found herself unable to continue the lessons; as Cora had the +manuscript music-books which Dr. Douglas had himself prepared for his +daughter when she was a little girl on the island, she added that she +would come for them on Monday, and at the same time take leave of her +pupil, from whom she parted with regret. + +Saturday and Sunday now intervened. At the choir rehearsal on Saturday a +foreboding came over her; occult malign influences seemed hovering in +the air. The tenor and organist, the opposition party, were ominously +affable. In this church there was, as in many another, an anomalous +"music committee," composed apparently of vestrymen, but in reality of +vestrymen's wives. These wives, spurred on secretly by the tenor and +organist, had decided that Miss Douglas was not the kind of soprano they +wished to have. She came into the city by train on the Sabbath day; she +was dressed so plainly and unfashionably that it betokened a want of +proper respect for the congregation; in addition, and in spite of this +plain attire, there was something about her which made "the gentlemen +turn and look at her." This last was the fatal accusation. Poor Anne +could not have disproved these charges, even if she had known what they +were; but she did not. Her foreboding of trouble had not been at fault +however, for on Monday morning came a formal note of dismissal, worded +with careful politeness; her services would not be required after the +following Sunday. It was a hard blow. But the vestrymen's wives +preferred the other candidate (friend of the organist and tenor), who +lived with her mother in the city, and patronized no Sunday trains; +whose garments were nicely adjusted to the requirements of the position, +following the fashions carefully indeed, but at a distance, and with +chastened salaried humility as well; who sang correctly, but with none +of that fervor which the vestrymen's wives considered so "out of place +in a church"; and whose face certainly had none of those outlines and +hues which so reprehensibly attracted "the attention of the gentlemen." +And thus Anne was dismissed. + +It was a bitterly cold morning. The scantily furnished rooms of the +half-house looked dreary and blank; old Nora, groaning with rheumatism, +sat drawn up beside the kitchen stove. Anne, who had one French lesson +to give, and the farewell visit to make at the residence of Mrs. +Iverson, Cora's mother, went in to the city. She gave the lesson, and +then walked down to the Scheffels' lodging to bear the dark tidings of +her dismissal. The musical instrument maker's window was frosted nearly +to the top; but he had made a round hole inside with a hot penny, and he +was looking through it when Anne rang the street bell. It was startling +to see a human eye so near, isolated by the frost-work--an eye and +nothing more; but she was glad he could amuse himself even after that +solitary fashion. Herr Scheffel had not returned from his round of +lessons. Anne waited some time in the small warm crowded room, where +growing plants, canary-birds, little plaster busts of the great +musicians, the piano, and the stove crowded each other cheerfully, but +he did not come. Mrs. Scheffel urged her to remain all night. "It ees zo +beetter cold." But Anne took leave, promising to come again on the +morrow. It was after four o'clock, and darkness was not far distant; the +piercing wind swept through the streets, blowing the flinty dust before +it; the ground was frozen hard as steel. She made her farewell visit at +Mrs. Iverson's, took her music-books, and said good-by, facing the +effusive regrets of Cora as well as she could, and trying not to think +how the money thus relinquished would be doubly needed now. Then she +went forth into the darkening street, the door of the warm, brightly +lighted home closing behind her like a knell. She had chosen twilight +purposely for this last visit, in order that she might neither see nor +be seen. She shivered now as the wind struck her, clasped the heavy +books with one arm, and turned westward on her way to the railway +station. It seemed to her that the city held that night no girl so +desolate as herself. + +As she was passing the street lamp at the first corner, some one stopped +suddenly. "Good heavens! Miss Douglas--Anne--is that you?" said a voice. +She looked up. It was Gregory Dexter. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + + "Loke who that ... most intendeth ay + To do the generous deedes that he can, + And take _him_ for the greatest gentleman." + + --CHAUCER. + + +"Anne! Is it you?" repeated Dexter. + +"Yes," she replied, having seen that it was impossible to escape, since +he was standing directly in her path. Then she tried to smile. "I should +not have thought you would have known me in this twilight." + +"I believe I should know you anywhere, even in total darkness. But where +are you going? I will accompany you." + +"I am on my way to X station, to take a train." + +"Let me carry those books for you. X station? That is at some distance; +would it not be better to have a carriage? Here, boy, run and call a +carriage. There will be a half-dollar for you if you make haste." + +He was the same as ever, prompt, kind, and disposed to have his own way. +But Anne, who on another occasion might have objected, now stood beside +him unopposing. She _was_ weary, cold, and disheartened, and she was +glad he was there. He had made her take his arm immediately, and even +that small support was comforting. The carriage came, they rolled away, +Anne leaning back against the cushions, and breathing in the grateful +sense of being cared for and protected, taken from the desolate and +darkening streets which otherwise she must have traversed alone. + +"I only arrived in town to-day," Dexter was saying; "and, on my way to a +friend's house where I am to dine, I intended calling upon Mrs. +Heathcote. I was going there when I met you. I should have inquired +about you immediately, for I have but just seen the account of the +disposal of Miss Vanhorn's estate, and was thinking of you. I supposed, +Miss Douglas, that you were to be her heir." + +"No." + +"She certainly allowed me to suppose so." + +"I do not think she ever had any such intention," replied Anne. + +"You are living near the city?" + +"Yes; at Lancaster. I give lessons in town." + +"And you come in and out on these freezing days, and walk to and from +the station?" + +"It is not always so cold." + +"Very well; I am going as far as Lancaster with you," said Dexter. "I +hope I shall be welcome." + +"Mr. Dexter, please do not." + +But he simply smiled and threw back his head in his old dictatorial way, +helped her from the carriage, bought tickets, secured for her the best +seat in the car, and took his place beside her; it seemed to Anne that +but a few minutes had passed when they heard "Lancaster," and stepping +out on the little platform, found the faithful Li in waiting, his +comforter tied over his ears, and jumping up and down to keep himself +warm. Anne had not ordered the red wagon, and he was not therefore +allowed to bring it out; but the little freckled knight-errant had +brought himself instead as faithful escort homeward. + +"Is there no carriage here, or any sort of a vehicle?" said Dexter, in +his quick, authoritative way. "Boy, bring a carriage." + +"There ain't none; but you can have the red wagon. Horse good, and wagon +first-rate. It'll be a dollar," answered Li. + +"Go and get it, then." + +The boy was gone like a dart, and in less time than any one else would +have taken, he was back with the wagon, and Mr. Dexter (in spite of her +remonstrance) was accompanying Anne homeward in the icy darkness. "But +you will lose the return train," she said. + +"I intend to lose it." + +When they stopped at the gate, no light was visible; Anne knocked, but +crippled old Nora was long in coming. When she did open the door, it was +a room nearly as cold as the air outside into which the guest was +ushered. As Li was obliged to return with the horse, his willing hands +were absent, and the young mistress of the house went out herself, +brought in candles and kindling-wood, and was stooping to light the +fire, when Dexter took the wood from her, led her to a chair, seated her +despotically, and made the fire himself. Then, standing before it, he +looked all round the room, slowly and markedly and in silence; afterward +his eyes came back to her. "So this is where you live--all the home you +have!" + +"It is but a temporary home. Some day I hope to go back to the island," +replied Anne. + +"When you have, by teaching, made money enough to live upon, I suppose. +It looks like it _here_," he said, with sarcastic emphasis. + +"It has not been so cold before," answered Anne. "The house has an empty +look, I acknowledge; that is because I supposed it was furnished; but +finding it bare, I decided to purchase only necessary articles. What is +the use of buying much for a temporary home?" + +"Of course. So much better to do without, especially in this weather!" + +"I assure you we have not been uncomfortable until, perhaps, to-night." + +"May I ask the amount, Miss Douglas, of your present income?" + +"I do not think you ought to ask," said the poverty-stricken young +mistress, bravely. + +"But I do ask. And you--will answer." + +"It has been, although not large, sufficient for our needs," replied +Anne, who, in spite of her desire to hide the truth from him, was yet +unable to put the statement into the present tense; but she hoped that +he would not notice it. + +On the contrary, however, Dexter answered instantly: "Has been? Then it +is not now?" + +"I have recently lost my place in a church choir; but I hope soon to +obtain another position." + +"And in the mean time you live on--hope? Forgive me if I seem +inquisitive and even harsh, Miss Douglas; but you do not realize how all +this impresses me. The last time I saw you you were richly dressed, a +favorite in a luxurious circle, the reputed heiress of a large fortune. +Little more than a year passes, and I meet you in the street at +twilight, alone and desolate; I come to your home, and find it cold and +empty; I look at you, and note your dress. You can offer me nothing, +hardly a fire. It hurts me, Anne--hurts me deeply--to think that all +this time I have had every luxury, while _you_ have suffered." + +"No, not suffered," she replied. But her voice trembled. This strong +assertive kindness touched her lonely heart keenly. + +"Then if you have not suffered as yet--and I am thankful to hear you say +it--you will suffer; or rather you might have suffered if I had not met +you in time. But never again, Anne--never again. Why, my child, do you +not remember that I begged you to be my wife? Shall she who, if she had +willed it, would now have been so near and dear to me, be left to +encounter toil and privation, while _I_ have abundance? Never, +Anne--never!" + +He left his place, took her hand, and held it in his warm grasp. There +was nothing save friendly earnestness in his eyes as they met her upward +look, and seeing this, she felt herself leaning as it were in spirit +upon him: she had indeed need of aid. He smiled, and comprehended all +without another word. + +"I must go on the ten-o'clock train," he said, cheerfully, coming back +to daily life again. "And before I go, in some way or another, that good +Irish goblin of yours must manufacture a supper for me; from +appearances, I should say she had only to wave her broom-stick. When I +met you I was on my way to dine with some friends. What their estimation +of me is at this moment I am afraid to think; but that does not make me +any the less hungry. With your permission, therefore, I will take off +this heavy overcoat, and dine here." As he spoke he removed his large +shaggy overcoat--a handsome fur-lined Canadian garment, suited to his +strong figure and the bitter weather, appearing in evening dress, with a +little spray of fern in his button-hole. "Now," he said, "I am going out +to plead with the goblin in person." + +"I will go," said Anne, laughing, won from her depression by his buoyant +manner. + +"On the contrary, you will stay; and not only that, but seated precisely +where I placed you. I will encounter the goblin alone." He opened the +door, went through, and closed it behind him. Soon Anne heard the sound +of laughter in the kitchen, not only old Nora's hearty Irish mirth, but +Li's shriller voice added to it. For the faithful Li had hastened back, +after the old horse was housed, in order to be in readiness if Miss +Douglas, owing to her unexpected visitor, required anything. What Dexter +said and did in that bare, dimly lighted kitchen that night was never +known, save from results. But certainly he inspired both Nora, Li, and +the stove. He returned to the parlor, made up the fire with so much +skill that it shone out brightly, and then sat down, allowing Anne to +do nothing save lean back in the low chair, which he had cushioned for +her with his shaggy coat. Before long Li came in, first with four +lighted candles in new candlesticks, which he disposed about the room +according to his taste, and then, later, with table-cloth and plates for +the dining-table. The boy's face glowed with glee and exercise; he had +already been to the store twice on a run, and returned loaded and +breathless, but triumphant. After a while pleasant odors began to steal +in from the kitchen, underneath all the inspiring fragrance of coffee. +At last the door opened, and Nora herself hobbled in, bringing a covered +dish, and then a second, and then a third, Li excitedly handing them to +her from the kitchen entrance. When her ambition was aroused, the old +Irishwoman was a good cook. It had been aroused to-night by Dexter's +largess, and the result was an appetizing although nondescript repast, +half dinner, half high-tea. The room was now brightly illuminated; the +fire-light danced on the bare floor. Dexter, standing by the table, tall +and commanding, his face full of friendliness, seemed to Anne a +personification of kindly aid and strength. She no longer made any +objection, but obeyed him smilingly, even as to where she should sit, +and what she should eat. His sudden appearance, at the moment of all +others when everything seemed to have failed, was comfort too +penetrating to be resisted. And why should it be resisted? There was no +suggestion in his manner of a return to the old subject; on the +contrary, he had himself spoken of it as a thing of the past. He would +not repeat his old request--would not wish to repeat it. + +After the repast was over, and Nora and Li were joyously feasting in the +kitchen, he drew his chair nearer to hers, and said, "Now tell me about +yourself, and what your life has been since we parted." For up to this +time, after those few strong words in the beginning, he had spoken only +on general topics, or at least upon those not closely connected with +herself. + +Anne, however, merely outlined her present life and position, clearly, +but without explanation. + +"And Mrs. Heathcote does not know you are here?" + +"She does not know, and she must not know. I have your promise, Mr. +Dexter, to reveal nothing." + +"You have my promise, and I will keep it. Still, I do not comprehend--" + +"It is not possible that you should comprehend. And in addition to +keeping my secret, Mr. Dexter, you must tell _me_ nothing of her, or of +any of the people who were at Caryl's." + +"It is a great gulf fixed?" + +"Yes." + +He looked at her in silence; she was quiet and thoughtful, her gaze +resting on the fire. After a while she said again, "You will remember?" + +"Yes. I never had the talent of forgetting." + +Soon afterward he went away, with Li as guide. As he took her hand at +parting, he said, "Are you coming in to the city to-morrow?" + +"Yes; I must see Herr Scheffel." + +"Will you let me meet you somewhere?" + +After a moment's hesitation, she answered, "I would rather not." + +"As you please. But I shall come and see you on Wednesday, then. +Good-night." He went out in the intense country darkness, preceded by +Li, who had disposed his comforter about him in such a manner as to look +as much as possible like the shaggy overcoat, which, in his eyes, was +fit for the Czar of all the Russias in his diamond crown. + +The next day was even colder. Anne went in to the city, gave one lesson, +and then faced the bitter wind on her way down to Herr Scheffel's +lodgings. Her heart was not so heavy, in spite of the cold, as it had +been the day before, since between that time and this she had heard the +cordial voice of a friend. + +The musical instrument maker's window was entirely frozen over, the +frost was like a white curtain shutting him out from the world; it was +to be hoped that he found comfort in playing on his tambourine within. +This time Herr Scheffel was at home, and he had a hope concerning a +place in another choir. Anne returned to Lancaster cheered. As she +walked homeward from the railway station down the hard country road, +darkness was falling, and she wondered why the faithful Li was not there +as usual to meet her. When she came within sight of the half-house, it +was blazing with light; from every window radiance streamed, smoke +ascended from the chimneys, and she could see figures within moving +about as if at work. What could it mean? She went up the steps, opened +the door, and entered. Was this her barren home? + +Workmen were putting the finishing touches to what seemed to have been +an afternoon's labor; Li, in a fever of excitement, was directing +everybody. Through the open door Nora could be seen moving to and fro +amid barrels, boxes, and bags. The men had evidently received their +orders, for as soon as the young mistress of the house appeared they +hastily concluded their labors, and, taking their tools, vanished like +so many genii of the ring. Anne called them back, but they were already +far down the road. Li and Nora explained together that the men and two +wagon-loads of furniture had arrived at the door of the half-house at +two o'clock, and that the head workman, showing Mr. Dexter's card, had +claimed entrance and liberty to carry out his orders; he had a rough +plan of the rooms, sketched by Dexter, and was to follow his directions. +Li and Nora, already warm adherents, entered into the scheme with all +their hearts, and the result was that mademoiselle's little house was +now carpeted, and warmed, and filled from top to bottom. The bare +store-room was crowded, the cupboards garnished; there were easy-chairs, +curtains, pictures, and even flowers--tea-roses in a vase. The furniture +was perhaps too massive, the carpets and curtains too costly for the +plain abode; Dexter always erred on the side of magnificence. His +lavishness had been brought up at Caryl's as a testimony against him, +for it was a decided evidence of newness. But on this gloomy freezing +winter night no one could have the heart to say that the rich fabrics +were not full of comfort both to the eye and touch, and Anne, sinking +into one of the easy-chairs, uncertain what to do, was at least not at +all uncertain as to the comfort of the cushioned back; it was luxurious. + +Later, in her own room, she sat looking at the unexpected gifts which +faced her from all sides. What should she do? It was not right to force +them upon her; and yet how like him was the lavish quick generosity! In +her poverty the gift seemed enormous; yet it was not. The little home +possessed few rooms, had seemed hardly more than a toy house to the city +workmen who had hastily filled it. But to Anne it seemed magical. Books +had been bought for her also, the well-proved standard works which +Dexter always selected for his own reading. In his busy life this +American had not had time to study the new writers; he was the one +person left who still quoted Addison. After looking at the books, Anne, +opening the closet door by chance, saw a long cedar case upon the floor; +it was locked, but the key was in an envelope bearing her name. She +opened the case; a faint fragrance floated out, as, from its wrappings, +she drew forth an India shawl, dark, rich, and costly enough for a +duchess. There was a note inside the case from Dexter--a note hastily +written in pencil: + + * * * * * + +"DEAR MISS DOUGLAS,--I do not know whether this is anything you can +wear, but at least it is warm. On the night I first met you you +were shivering, and I have thought of it ever since. Please accept +the shawl, therefore, and the other trifles, from your friend, G. D." + + * * * * * + +The trifles were furs--sable. Here, as usual, Dexter had selected the +costly; he knew no other way. And thus surrounded by all the new luxury +of the room, with the shawl and the furs in her hands, Anne stood, an +image of perplexity. + +The next day the giver came out. She received him gravely. There was a +look in her eyes which told him that he had not won her approval. + +"Of course I do not intend to trouble you often with visits," he said, +as he gave his furred overcoat to Li. "But one or two may be allowed, I +think, from such an old friend." + +"And to such a desolate girl." + +"Desolate no longer," he answered, choosing to ignore the reproach of +the phrase. + +He installed himself in one of the new arm-chairs (looking, it must be +confessed, much more comfortable than before), and began to talk in a +fluent general way, approaching no topics that were personal. Meanwhile +old Nora, hearing from Li that the benefactor of the household was +present, appeared, strong in the new richness of her store-room, at the +door, and dropping a courtesy, wished to know at what hour it would +please him to dine. She said "your honor"; she had almost said "your +highness." Her homage was so sincere that Anne smiled, and Dexter +laughed outright. + +"You see I am expected to stay, whether you wish it or not," he said. +"Do let me; it shall be for the last time." Then turning to Nora, he +said, "At four." And with another reverence, the old woman withdrew. + +"It is a viciously disagreeable afternoon. You would not, I think, have +the heart to turn out even a dog," he continued, leaning back at ease, +and looking at his hostess, his eyes shining with amusement: he was +reading her objections, and triumphing over them. Then, as he saw her +soberness deepen, he grew grave immediately. "I am staying to-day +because I wish to talk with you, Anne," he said. "I shall not come +again. I know as well as you do, of course, that you can not receive me +while you have no better chaperon than Nora." He paused, looking at her +downcast face. "You do not like what I have done?" + +"No." + +"Why?" + +"You have loaded me with too heavy an obligation." + +"Any other reason?" + +"I can never repay you." + +"In addition?" + +"It is not right that you should treat me as though I were a child." + +"I knew you would object, and strongly; yet I hope to bring you over yet +to my view of the case," said Dexter. "You say that I have placed you +under too heavy an obligation. But pray consider what a slight affair +the little gift seems to me. The house is very small; I have spent but a +few hundreds; in all, with the exception of the shawl and furs, not much +over five. What is that to an income like mine? You say you can never +repay me. You repay me by accepting. It seems to me a noble quality to +accept, simply and generously accept; and I have believed that yours was +a noble nature. Accept, then, generously what it is such a pleasure to +me to give. On my own side, I say this: the woman Gregory Dexter once +asked to be his wife shall not suffer from want while Gregory Dexter +lives, and knows where to find her. This has nothing to do with you; it +is my side of the subject." + +He spoke with much feeling. Anne looked at him. Then she rose, and with +quiet dignity gave him, as he rose also, her hand. He understood the +silent little action. "You have answered my expectation," he said, and +the subject was at an end forever. + +After dinner, in the twilight, he spoke again. "You said, an hour or two +ago, that I had treated you as though you were a child. It is true; for +you were a child at Caryl's, and I remembered you as you were then. But +you are much changed; looking at you now, it is impossible that I should +ever think of you in the same way again." + +She made no reply. + +"Can you tell me nothing of yourself, of your personal life since we +parted? Your engagement, for instance?" + +"It is ended. Mr. Pronando is married; he married my sister. You did not +see the notice?" (Anne's thoughts were back in the West Virginia +farm-house now with the folded slip of newspaper.) + +"No; I was in the far West until April. I did not come eastward until +the war broke out. Then you are free, Anne? Do not be afraid to tell me; +I remember every word you said in Miss Vanhorn's little red parlor, and +I shall not repeat my mistake. You are, then, free?" + +"I can not answer you." + +"Then I will not ask; it all belongs to the one subject, I suppose. The +only part intrusted to me--the secret of your being here--I will +religiously guard. As to your present life--you would rather let this +Herr Scheffel continue looking for a place for you?" + +"Yes." + +"I will not interfere. But I shall write to you now and then, and you +must answer. If at the end of a month you have not obtained this +position you are hoping for--in a church choir, is it not?--you must let +me know. Will you promise?" + +"I promise." + +"And bear in mind this: you shall never be left friendless again while I +am on earth to protect you." + +"But I have no right to--" + +"Yes, you have; you have been more to me than you know." Here he paused, +and looked away as if debating with himself. "I have always intended +that you should know it some time," he continued; "perhaps this is as +good a time as any. Will you listen?" + +"Yes." + +He settled himself anew in his chair, meditated a moment, and then, with +all his natural fluency, which nothing could abate, with the +self-absorption which men of his temperament always show when speaking +of themselves, and yet with a certain guarded look at Anne too all the +while, as if curious to see how she would take his words, he began: + +"You know what my life has been--that is, generally. What I wish to tell +you now is an inner phase. When, at the beginning of middle age, at last +I had gained the wealth I always intended to have, I decided that I +would marry. I wished to have a home. Of course, during all those +toiling years, I had not been without what are called love affairs, but +I was far too intensely absorbed in my own purposes to spend much time +upon them. Besides, I had preserved an ideal. + +"I do not intend to conceal or deny that I am ambitious: I made a +deliberate effort to gain admittance into what is called the best +society in the Eastern cities, and in a measure I succeeded. I enjoyed +the life; it was another world; but still, wherever I went it seemed to +me that the women were artificial. Beautiful, attractive, women I could +not help admiring, but--not like my ideal of what my wife must be. They +would never make for me that home I coveted; for while I stood ready to +surround that home with luxury, in its centre I wanted, for myself +alone, a true and loving heart, a heart absorbed in me. And then, while +I knew that I wanted this, while I still cherished my old ideal closely, +what did I do? I began to love Rachel Bannert! + +"You look at me; you do not understand why I speak in that tone. It is +as well that you should not. I can only say that I worshipped her. It +was not her fault that I began to love her, but it was her fault that I +was borne on so far; for she made me believe that she loved me; she gave +me the privileges of a lover. I never doubted (how could I?) that she +would be my wife in the end, although, for reasons of her own, she +wished to keep the engagement, for the time being, a secret. I +submitted, because I loved her. And then, when I was helpless, because I +was so sure of her, she turned upon me and cast me off. Like a worn-out +glove! + +"Anne, I could not believe it. We were in the ravine; she had strolled +off in that direction, as though by chance, and I had followed her. I +asked her what she meant: no doubt I looked like a dolt. She laughed in +my face. It seemed that she had only been amusing herself; that she had +never had any intention of marrying me; a 'comedy of the summer.' But no +one laughs in my face twice--not even a woman. When, at last, I +understood her, my infatuation vanished; and I said some words to her +that night which I think she will not soon forget. Then I turned and +left. + +"Remember that this was no boy whose feelings she had played with, whose +respect she had forfeited; it was a man, and one who had expected to +find in this Eastern society a perfection of delicacy and refinement not +elsewhere seen. I scorned myself for having loved her, and for the +moment I scorned all women too. Then it was, Anne, that the thought of +_you_ saved me. I said to myself that if you would be my wife, I could +be happy with your fresh sincerity, and not sink into that unbelieving, +disagreeable cynicism which I had always despised in other men. Acting +on the impulse, I asked you. + +"I did not love you, save as all right-minded men love and admire a +sweet young girl; but I believed in you; there was something about you +that aroused trust and confidence. Besides--I tell you this frankly--I +thought I should succeed. I certainly did not want to be repulsed twice +in one day. I see now that I was misled by Miss Vanhorn. But I did not +see it then, and when I spoke to you, I fully expected that you would +answer yes. + +"You answered no, Anne, but you still saved me. I still believed in you. +And more than ever after that last interview. I went away from Caryl's +early the next morning, and two days later started for the West. I was +hurt through and through, angry with myself, disgusted with life. I +wanted to breathe again the freedom of the border. Yet through it all +your memory was with me as that of one true, pure, steadfast woman-heart +which compelled me to believe in goodness and steadfastness as +possibilities in women, although I myself had been so blindly befooled. +This is what you, although unconsciously, have done for me: it is an +inestimable service. + +"I was not much moved from my disgust until something occurred which +swept me out of myself--I mean the breaking out of the war. I had not +believed in its possibility; but when the first gun was fired, I started +eastward at an hour's notice." Here Dexter rose, and with folded arms +walked to and fro across the floor. "The class of people you met at +Caryl's used to smile and shrug their shoulders over what is called +patriotism--I think they are smiling no longer."--(Here Anne remembered +"After that attack on Fort Sumter, it seemed to me the only thing to +do") "but the tidings of that first gun stirred something in _my_ breast +which is, I suppose, what that word means. As soon as I reached +Pennsylvania, I went up to the district where my mines are, gathered +together and equipped all the volunteers who would go. I have been doing +similar work on a larger scale ever since. I should long ago have been +at the front in person were it not that the Governor requires my +presence at home, and I am well aware also that I am worth twenty times +more in matters of organization than I should be simply as one more man +in the field." + +This was true. Gregory Dexter's remarkable business powers and energy, +together with his wealth, force, and lavish liberality, made him the +strong arm of his State throughout the entire war. + +He asked for no comment upon his story; he had told it briefly as a +series of facts. But from it he hoped that the listener would draw a +feeling which would make her rest content under his friendly aid. And he +succeeded. + +But before he went away she told him that while accepting all the house +contained, she would rather return those of his gifts which had been +personal to herself. + +"Why?" + +"I would rather do it, but I do not know how to explain the feeling," +she answered, frankly, although her face was one bright blush. + +"If you do not, I do," said Dexter, smiling, and looking at her with the +beginnings of a new interest in his eyes. "As you please, of course, +although I _did_ try to buy a good shawl for you, Anne. Are you not very +poorly dressed?" + +"Plainly and inexpensively. Quite warmly, however." + +"But what am I to do with the things? I will tell you what I shall do: I +shall keep them just as they are, in the cedar box. Perhaps some day you +will accept them." + +She shook her head. But he only smiled back in answer, and soon +afterward he went away. + +The next day she sent the cedar case to his city address. She wrote a +note to accompany it, and then destroyed it. Why should she write? All +had been said. + +Before the month was quite ended, Herr Scheffel succeeded in obtaining +for her a place in another church choir. It was a small church, and the +salary was not large, but she was glad to accept it, and more than glad +to be able to write to Mr. Dexter that she had accepted it. New pupils +came with the new year; she was again able to send money to Miss Lois, +for the household supplies, so lavishly provided, were sufficient for +the little family throughout the winter. + +In February, being again in New York, Dexter came out to see her. It was +a wild evening; the wind whistled round the house, and blew the hail and +sleet against the panes. Most persons would have remained in the city; +but after one look at Dexter's face and figure, no one ever spoke to him +about the weather. Anne had received a long letter from Jeanne-Armande; +she showed it to him. Also one from Père Michaux. "I feel now," she +said, "almost as though you were my--" + +"Please do not say father." + +"Oh no." + +"Brother, then?" + +"Hardly that." + +"Uncle?" + +"Perhaps; I never had an uncle. But, after all, it is more like--" Here +she stopped again. + +"Guardian?" suggested Dexter; "they are always remarkable persons, at +least in books. Never mind the name, Anne; I am content to be simply +your friend." + +During the evening he made one allusion to the forbidden subject. "You +asked me to tell you nothing regarding the people who were at Caryl's, +but perhaps the prohibition was not eternal. I spent an hour with Mrs. +Heathcote this afternoon (never fear; I kept your secret). Would you not +like to hear something of her?" + +Anne's face changed, but she did not swerve. "No; tell me nothing," she +answered. And he obeyed her wish. In a short time he took leave, and +returned to the city. During the remainder of the winter she did not see +him again. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + + "The fierce old fires of primitive ages are not dead yet, although + we pretend they are. Every now and then each man of us is + confronted by a gleam of the old wild light deep down in his own + startled heart." + + +In the middle of wild, snowy March there came a strange week of +beautiful days. On the Sunday of this week Anne was in her place in the +choir, as usual, some time before the service began. + +It was a compromise choir. The dispute between the ideas of the rector +and those of the congregation had been ended by bringing the organ +forward to the corner near the chancel, and placing in front of it the +singers' seats, ornamented with the proper devices: so much was done for +the rector. To balance this, and in deference to the congregation, the +old quartette of voices was retained, and placed in these seats, which, +plainly intended for ten or twelve surpliced choristers, were all too +long and broad for the four persons who alone occupied them. The singers +sat in one, and kept their music-books in the other, and objecting to +the open publicity of their position facing the congregation, they had +demanded, and at last succeeded in obtaining (to the despair of the +rector), red curtains, which, hanging from the high railing above, +modestly concealed them when they were seated, and converted that corner +of the church into something between a booth in a fair and a circus +tent. + +Before the service began, while the people were coming in, the contralto +pushed aside a corner of the curtain as usual, and peeped out. She then +reported to Anne in a whisper the course of events, as follows, Anne not +caring to hear, but quiescent: + +"Loads of people to-day. Wonder why? Oh yes, I remember now; the +apostolic bishop's going to be here, and preach about the Indians. Don't +you love that man? I do; and I wish I was an Indian myself. We'll have +_all_ the curtains put back for the sermon. More people coming. I +declare it's quite exciting. And I forgot gum-drops on this day of all +others, and shall probably be hoarse as a crow, and spoil the duet! I +hope you won't be raging. Oh, _do_ look! Here's such a swell! A lady; +Paris clothes from head to foot. And she's going to sit up here near us +too. Take a look?" But Anne declined, and the reporter went on. "She has +the lightest hair I ever saw. I wonder if it's bleached? And she's as +slender as a paper-cutter." (The contralto was stout.) "But I can't deny +that she's handsome, and her clothes are stunning. They're right close +to us now, and the man's awfully handsome too, come to look at him--her +husband, I suppose. A pair of brown eyes and _such_ heavy eyebrows! +They--" + +But the soprano was curious at last, apparently, and the contralto +good-naturedly gave up her look-out corner. Yes, there they were, Helen +and Ward Heathcote, Mrs. Heathcote and her husband, Captain Heathcote +and his wife. Very near her, and unconscious of her presence. Hungrily, +and for one long moment, she could not help looking at them. As the +light-tongued girl had said, Helen looked very beautiful, more beautiful +than ever, Anne thought. She was clad in black velvet from head to foot, +and as the day was unexpectedly warm, she had thrown aside her heavy +mantle edged with fur, and her slender form was visible, outlined in the +clinging fabric. Under the small black velvet bonnet with its single +plume her hair, in all its fine abundance, shone resplendent, +contrasting with the velvet's richness. One little delicately gloved +hand held a prayer-book, and with the other, as Anne looked, she +motioned to her husband. He drew nearer, and she spoke. In answer he +sought in his pockets, and drew forth a fan. She extended her hand as if +to take it, but he opened it himself, and began to fan her quietly. The +heat in the church was oppressive; his wife was delicate; what more +natural than that he should do this? Yet the gazer felt herself acutely +miserable. She knew Helen so well also that although to the rest of the +congregation the fair face preserved unchanged its proud immobility, +Anne's eyes could read at once the wife's happiness in her husband's +attention. + +She drew back. "I can not sing to-day," she said, hurriedly; "I am not +well. Will you please make my excuses to the others?" As she spoke she +drew on her gloves. (She had a fancy that she could not sing with her +hands gloved.) + +"Why, what in the world--" began the contralto. "But you _do_ look +frightfully pale. Are you going to faint? Let me go with you." + +"I shall not faint, but I must get to the open air as soon as possible. +Please stay and tell the others; perhaps Miss Freeborn will sing in my +place." + +Having succeeded in saying this, her white cheeks and trembling hands +witnesses for her, she went out through the little choir door, which was +concealed by the curtain, and in another moment was in the street. The +organist, hidden in his oaken cell, looked after her in surprise. When +the basso came in, with a flower in his mouth, he took the flower out, +and grew severely thoughtful over the exigencies of the situation. After +a few minutes of hurried discussion, the basso, who was also the leader, +came forth from the circus tent and made a majestic progress to the +rector's pew, where sat the lily-like Miss Freeborn, the rector's +daughter; and then, after another consultation, she rose, and the two +made a second majestic progress back to the circus tent, the +congregation meanwhile looking on with much interest. When the tenor +came, a rather dissipated youth who had been up late the night before, +he was appalled by the presence of the lily-like Miss Freeborn, and did +not sing as well as usual, Miss Freeborn, although lily-like, keeping +him sternly to his notes, and not allowing him any of those lingering +little descents after the other singers have finished, upon which he, +like many tenors, relied for his principal effects. + +Meanwhile Anne was walking rapidly down the street; a mile soon lay +between her and the church, yet still she hastened onward. She was in a +fever, yet a chill as well. Now she was warm with joy, now cold with +grief. She had seen him. Her eyes had rested upon his face at last, and +he was safe, he was well and strong again. Was not this joy enough? + +And yet he was with Helen. And Helen loved him. + +She had asked him to go back to Helen. He had gone back. She had asked +him to do his part in life bravely. And he was doing it. Was not this +what she wished? + +And yet--was it so hard to go back--to go back to beautiful Helen who +loved him so deeply? Did his part in life require bravery? Did he look +as though it was a sacrifice, a hardship? And here she tried to recall +how in truth he had looked--how, to the eyes of a stranger. He was +strong again and vigorous; but beyond that she could think only of how +he looked to her--the face she knew so well, the profile, the short +crisp hair, the heavy eyebrows and brown eyes. He was in citizen's +dress; only the bronzed skin and erect bearing betrayed the soldier. How +he would have looked to a stranger she could not tell; she only knew, +she only felt, how he looked to her. "He is at home on furlough," she +thought, with gladness, realizing the great joy it was that he should be +safe when so many had been taken. And then, in her memory, blotting out +all gladness, rose again the picture of the two figures, side by side, +and she hurried onward, she knew not whither. It was jealousy, plain, +simple, unconquerable jealousy, which was consuming her; jealousy, +terrible passion which the most refined and intellectual share with the +poor Hottentots, from which the Christian can not escape any more than +the pagan; jealousy, horrible companion of love, its guardian and +tormentor. God help the jealous! for they suffer the acutest tortures +the human mind can feel. And Anne was jealous. + +If she had not admired Helen so deeply, and loved her (save for this one +barrier) so sincerely, she would not have suffered as she was suffering. +But to her Helen had always been the fairest woman on earth, and even +now this feeling could not be changed. All Helen's words came back to +her, every syllable of her clear, quietly but intensely uttered avowal; +and this man, whom she had loved so deeply, was now her husband. + +It was nothing new. Why should she feel it, think of it, in this way? +But she was no longer capable of thinking or feeling reasonably. Of +course he loved her. In his mind she, Anne, was probably but a far-off +remembrance, even if a remembrance at all. Their meeting in West +Virginia had been a chance encounter; its impulses, therefore, had been +chance impulses, its words chance words, meaning nothing, already +forgotten. She, Anne, had taken them as great, and serious, and sincere; +and she, Anne, had been a fool. Her life had been built upon this idea. +It was a foundation of sand. + +She walked on, seeing nothing, hearing nothing. Where were now the +resignation and self-sacrifice, the crowned patience and noble +fortitude? Ah, yes, but resignation and fortitude were one thing when +she had thought that he required them also, another when they were +replaced in his life by happiness and content. It is easy to be +self-sacrificing when the one we love suffers in companionship with us, +and there is no rival. But when there is a rival, self-sacrifice goes to +the winds. "He never loved me," was the burning cry of her heart. "I +have been a fool--a poor self-absorbed, blinded fool. If he thinks of me +at all, it is with a smile over my simple credulity." + +Through miles of streets she wandered, and at last found herself again +in the quarter where the church stood. A sudden desire seized her to +look at him, at them, again. If the service had been long, she would be +in time to see their carriage pass. She turned, and hastened toward the +church, as anxious now to reach it as she had been before to leave it +far behind. Now she could see the corner and the porch. No, service was +not ended; carriages were waiting without. She was in time. But as she +drew near, figures began to appear, coming from the porch, and she took +refuge under the steps of a house opposite, her figure hidden in the +shadow. + +[Illustration: "ANNE, STILL AS A STATUE."] + +The congregation slowly made its dignified way into the street. St. +Lucien's had seldom held so large a throng of worshippers. The little +sexton hardly knew, in his excitement, where he was, or what his duty, +on such a momentous occasion. At length they appeared, the last of +all; only one carriage was left, and that was their own. Slowly, leaning +on her husband's arm, the slender fair-haired woman came forth; and +Anne, still as a statue, watched with fixed, burning eyes while he threw +the velvet cloak round her as they reached the open air, and fastened +the clasp. Chance favored the gazer. Helen had left her prayer-book +behind in the pew, and while the sexton went back to look for it, +husband and wife stood waiting on the steps in the sunshine. Yes, +Heathcote had regained all his old vigor, but his expression was +changed. He was graver; in repose his face was stern. + +It seemed as if Helen felt the fixed although unseen gaze, for she +shivered slightly, said something, and they began to go down the steps, +the wife supported by her husband's arm as though she needed the +assistance. The footman held open the carriage door, but Helen paused. +Anne could see her slender foot, in its little winter boot, put out, and +then withdrawn, as though she felt herself unable to take the step. Then +her husband lifted her in his arms and placed her in the carriage +himself, took his place beside her, and the man closed the door. In +another minute the sexton had brought the prayer-book, and the carriage +rolled away. Anne came out from her hiding-place. The vision was gone. + +Again she walked at random through the streets, unheeding where she was. +She knew that she had broken her compact with herself--broken it +utterly. Of what avail now the long months during which she had not +allowed herself to enter the street or the neighborhood where Helen +lived? Of what avail that she had not allowed herself to listen to one +word concerning them when Mr. Dexter stood ready to tell all? She had +looked at them--looked at them voluntarily and long; had gone back to +the church door to look at them, to look again at the face for a sight +of which her whole heart hungered. + +She had broken her vow. In addition, the mist over her blind eyes was +dissolved. He had never loved her; it had been but a passing fancy. It +was best so. Yet, oh, how easy all the past now seemed, in spite of its +loneliness, toil, and care! For _then_ she had believed that she was +loved. She began to realize that until this moment she had never really +given up her own will at all, but had held on through all to this inward +belief, which had made her lonely life warm with its hidden secret +light. She had thought herself noble, and she had been but selfish; she +had thought herself self-controlled, and she had been following her own +will; she had thought herself humble, and here she was, maddened by +humiliated jealous pride. + +At last, worn out with weariness, she went homeward to the half-house as +twilight fell. In the morning the ground was white with snow again, and +the tumultuous winds of March were careering through the sky, whipping +the sleet and hail before them as they flew along; the strange halcyon +sunshine was gone, and a second winter upon them. And Anne felt that a +winter such as she had never known before was in her heart also. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + + "O eloquent and mightie Death! thou hast drawn together all the + farre-stretched greatnesse, all the pride, crueltie, and ambition + of men, and covered it all over with these two narrow words, Hic + jacet!"--SIR WALTER RALEIGH. + + +A month passed. Anne saw nothing more, heard nothing more, but toiled on +in her daily round. She taught and sang. She answered Miss Lois's +letters and those of Père Michaux. There was no longer any danger in +writing to Weston, and she smiled sadly as she thought of the blind, +self-important days when she had believed otherwise. She now wrote to +her friends there, and letters came in return. Mrs. Barstow's pages were +filled with accounts of hospital work, for Donelson had been followed by +the great blood-shedding of Shiloh, and the West was dotted with +battle-fields. + +She had allowed herself no newspapers, lest she should come upon his +name. But now she ordered one, and read it daily. What was it to her +even if she should come upon his name? She must learn to bear it, so +long as they trod the same earth. And one day she did come upon it; but +it was merely the two-line announcement that he had returned to the +front. + +The great city had grown used to the war. There were few signs in its +busy streets that a pall hung over the borders of the South. The music +teacher on her rounds saw nothing save now and then the ranks of a +regiment passing through on its way to a train. Traffic went on +unchanged; pleasure was rampant as ever. The shrill voice of the newsboy +calling the details of the last battle was often the only reminder of +the dread reality. May moved onward. The Scheffels began to make those +little excursions into the country so dear to the German heart; but they +could not persuade the honored Fräulein to accompany them. For it was +not the real country to which they went, but only that suburban +imitation of it which thrives in the neighborhood of New York, and +Anne's heart was back on her island in the cool blue Northern straits. +Miss Lois was now at home again, and her letters were like a breath of +life to the homesick girl. Little André was better, and Père Michaux +came often to the church-house, and seemed glad to be with them again. +With them again! If she could but be with them too!--stand on the +heights among the beckoning larches, walk through the spicy aisles of +the arbor vitæ, sit under the gray old pines, listening to the wash of +the cool blue water below, at rest, afar, afar from all this weariness +and sadness and pain! + +During these days Stonewall Jackson was making one of his brilliant +campaigns in the Valley, the Valley of Virginia, the beautiful valley of +the Shenandoah. On the last morning in May, while reading the war news, +Anne found in one corner a little list of dead. And there, in small +letters, which grew to great size, and inscribed themselves on the walls +of the room, one succeeding the other like a horrible dream, was the +name, Ward Heathcote. "Captain Ward Heathcote,---- New York Volunteers." +She turned the sheet; it was repeated in the latest news column, and +again in a notice on the local page. "Captain Ward Heathcote,---- New +York Volunteers, is reported among the slain," followed by those brief +items of birth, age, and general history which appall our eyes when we +first behold them on the printed page, and realize that they are now +public property, since they belong only to the dead. + +It was early. She was at home in the half-house. She rose, put on her +bonnet and gloves, walked to the station, took the first train to the +city, and went to Helen. + +She reached the house, and was denied entrance. Mrs. Heathcote could see +no one. + +Was any one with her? Miss Teller? + +Miss Teller, the man answered, was absent from the city; but a +telegraphic dispatch had been sent, and she was on her way home. There +was no relative at present with Mrs. Heathcote; friends she was not able +to see. And he looked with some curiosity at this plainly dressed young +person, who stood there quite unconscious, apparently, of the atmosphere +of his manner. And yet Mr. Simpson had a very well regulated manner, +founded upon the best models--a manner which had never heretofore failed +in its effect. With a preliminary cough, he began to close the door. + +"Wait," said this young person, almost as though she had some authority. +She drew forth a little note-book, tore out a leaf, wrote a line upon +it, and handed him the improvised card. "Please take this to Mrs. +Heathcote," she said. "I think she will see me." + +See her--see _her_--when already members of the highest circles of the +city had been refused! With a slight smile of superior scorn, Simpson +took the little slip, and leaving the stranger on the steps, went +within, partially closing the door behind him. But in a few minutes he +hastily returned, and with him was a sedate middle-aged woman, whom he +called Mrs. Bagshot, and who, although quiet in manner, seemed decidedly +to outrank him. + +"Will you come with me, if you please?" she said deferentially, +addressing Anne. "Mrs. Heathcote would like to see you without delay." +She led the way with a quiet unhurrying step up a broad stairway, and +opened a door. In the darkened room, on a couch, a white form was +lying. Bagshot withdrew, and Anne, crossing the floor, sank down on her +knees beside the couch. + +"Helen!" she said, in a broken voice; "oh, Helen! Helen!" + +The white figure did not stir, save slowly to disengage one hand and +hold it out. But Anne, leaning forward, tenderly lifted the slight form +in her arms, and held it close to her breast. + +"I could not help coming," she said. "Poor Helen! poor, poor Helen!" + +She smoothed the fair hair away from the small face that lay still and +white upon her shoulder, and at that moment she pitied the stricken wife +so intensely that she forgot the rival, or rather made herself one with +her; for in death there is no rivalry, only a common grief. Helen did +not speak, but she moved closer to Anne, and Anne, holding her in her +arms, bent over her, soothing her with loving words, as though she had +been a little child. + +The stranger remained with Mrs. Heathcote nearly two hours. Then she +went away, and Simpson, opening the door for her, noticed that her veil +was closely drawn, so that her face was concealed. She went up the +street to the end of the block, turned the corner, and disappeared. He +was still standing on the steps, taking a breath of fresh air, his +portly person and solemn face expressing, according to his idea, a +dignified grief appropriate to the occasion and the distinction of the +family he served--a family whose bereavements even were above the level +of ordinary sorrows, when his attention was attracted by the appearance +of a boy in uniform, bearing in his hand an orange-brown envelope. In +the possibilities of that well-known hue of hope and dread he forgot for +the moment even his occupation of arranging in his own mind elegant +formulas with which to answer the inquiries constantly made at the door +of the bereaved mansion. The boy ascended the steps; Bagshot, up stairs, +with her hand on the knob of Mrs. Heathcote's door, saw him, and came +down. The dispatch was for her mistress; she carried it to her. The next +instant a cry rang through the house. Captain Heathcote was safe. + +The message was as follows: + + * * * * * + +"_To Mrs. Ward Heathcote:_ + +"My name given in list a mistake. Am here, wounded, but not dangerously. +Will write. + +W. H." + + * * * * * + +It was sent from Harper's Ferry. And two hours later, Mrs. Heathcote, +accompanied by Bagshot, was on her way to Harper's Ferry. + +It was a wild journey. If any man had possessed authority over Helen, +she would never have been allowed to make it; but no man did possess +authority. Mrs. Heathcote, having money, courage, and a will of steel, +asked advice from no one, did not even wait for Miss Teller, but +departed according to a swift purpose of her own, accompanied only by +Bagshot, who was, however, an efficient person, self-possessed, calm, +and accustomed to travelling. It was uncertain whether they would be +able to reach Harper's Ferry, but this uncertainty did not deter Helen: +she would go as far as she could. In her heart she was not without hope +that Mrs. Heathcote could relax the rules and military lines of even the +strictest general in the service. As to personal fear, she had none. + +At Baltimore she was obliged to wait for an answer to the dispatch she +had sent on starting, and the answer was long in coming. To pass away +the time, she ordered a carriage and drove about the city; many persons +noticed her, and remembered her fair, delicate, and impatient face, +framed in its pale hair. At last the answer came. Captain Heathcote was +no longer at Harper's Ferry; he had been sent a short distance northward +to a town where there was a better hospital, and Mrs. Heathcote was +advised to go round by the way of Harrisburg, a route easier and safer, +if not in the end more direct as well. + +She followed this advice, although against her will. She travelled +northward to Harrisburg, and then made a broad curve, and came southward +again, within sight of the green hills later to be brought into +unexpected and long-enduring fame--the hills around Gettysburg. But now +the whole region was fair with summer, smiling and peaceful; the farmers +were at work, and the grain was growing. After some delays she reached +the little town, with its barrack-like, white-washed hospital, where her +husband was installed under treatment for a wound in his right arm, +which, at first appearing serious, had now begun to improve so rapidly +that the surgeon in charge decided that he could soon travel northward, +and receive what further care he needed among the comforts of his own +home. + +At the end of five days, therefore, they started, attended only by +Bagshot, that useful woman possessing, in addition to her other +qualifications, both skill and experience as a nurse. + +They started; but the journey was soon ended. On the 11th of June the +world of New York was startled, its upper circles hotly excited, and one +obscure young teacher in a little suburban home paralyzed, by the great +headings in the morning newspapers. Mrs. Heathcote, wife of Captain Ward +Heathcote,---- New York Volunteers, while on her way homeward with her +husband, who was wounded in the Shenandoah Valley, had been found +murdered in her room in the country inn at Timloesville, where they were +passing the night. And the evidence pointed so strongly toward Captain +Heathcote that he had been arrested upon suspicion. + +The city journals appended to this brief dispatch whatever details they +knew regarding the personal history of the suspected man and his victim. +Helen's beauty, the high position of both in society, and their large +circle of friends were spoken of; and in one account the wife's wealth, +left by will unconditionally to her husband, was significantly +mentioned. One of the larger journals, with the terrible and pitiless +impartiality of the great city dailies, added that if there had been a +plan, some part of it had signally failed. "A man of the ability of +Captain Heathcote would never have been caught otherwise in a web of +circumstantial evidence so close that it convinced even the pastoral +minds of the Timloesville officials. We do not wish, of course, to +prejudge this case; but from the half-accounts which have reached us, it +looks as though this blunder, whatever it may have been, was but another +proof of the eternal verity of the old saying, Murder will out." + +It was the journal containing this sentence which Anne read. She had +heard the news of Heathcote's safety a few hours after her visit to +Helen. Only a few days had passed, and now her eyes were staring at the +horrible words that Helen was dead, and that her murderer was her own +husband. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + + "All her bright hair streaming down, + And all the coverlid was cloth of gold + Drawn to her waist, and she herself in white + All but her face, and that clear-featured face + Was lovely, for she did not seem as dead, + But fast asleep, and lay as though she smiled." + + --TENNYSON. + + +EXTRACT FROM THE NEW YORK "MARS." + +"The following details in relation to the terrible crime with whose main +facts our readers are familiar will be of interest at the moment. They +were collected by our special reporter, sent in person to the scene of +the tragedy, for the purpose of gathering reliable information +concerning this case, which promises to be one of the _causes célèbres_ +of the country, not only on account of the high position and wealth of +the parties concerned, but also on account of the close net of purely +circumstantial evidence which surrounds the accused man. + + +"TIMLOESVILLE + +is a small village on the border-line between Pennsylvania and Maryland. +Legally in Pennsylvania, it possesses personally the characteristics of +a Maryland village, some of its outlying fields being fairly over the +border. It is credited with about two thousand inhabitants; but the +present observer did not see, during his stay, more than about one +thousand, including women and children. Timloesville is on a branch +railway, which connects with the main line at a junction about thirty +miles distant. It possesses two churches and a saw-mill, and was named +from a highly esteemed early settler (who may perhaps have marched with +our great Washington), Judge Jeremiah Timloe. The agricultural products +of the surrounding country are principally hay and maize--wrongly called +corn. The intelligence and morality of the community are generally +understood to be of a high order. A low fever prevails here in the +spring. + + +"TIMLOE HOTEL. + +"At the southern edge of the town, on the line of the railway, stands +the Timloe Hotel, presenting an imposing façade to the passengers on the +trains as they roll by. It is presided over in a highly liberal and +gentlemanly manner by Mr. Casper Graub; it is, in fact, to the genial +courtesy of 'mine host' that much of this information is due, and we +take this occasion also to state that during all the confusion and +excitement necessarily accruing to his house during the present week, +the high standard of Mr. Graub's table has never once been relaxed. + + +"MR. GRAUB'S STORY. + +"An army officer, with his right arm in a sling, arrived at the Timloe +Hotel, accompanied by his wife, and a maid or nurse named Bagshot, on +the evening of June 10, at six o'clock precisely. The officer registered +the names as follows: 'Ward Heathcote, Mrs. Heathcote and maid, New +York.' He wrote the names with his left hand. A room was assigned to +them in the front part of the house, but upon the lady's objecting to +the proximity of the trains (generally considered, however, by the +majority of Mr. Graub's guests, an enjoyable variety), another apartment +in a wing was given to them, with windows opening upon the garden. The +wing is shaped like an L. The maid, Bagshot, had a room in the bend of +the L, she too having objected, although later, to the room first +assigned to her. At half past six o'clock they had supper; the lady +then retired to her room, but the husband went out, as he said, to +stroll about the town. At half past eight he returned. At nine, Bagshot, +having been dismissed for the night, went to her own room; when she +left, Captain Heathcote was reading a newspaper, and his wife was +writing. It has since been ascertained that this newspaper was the +Baltimore _Chronos_ of the 9th inst. At ten o'clock exactly Captain +Heathcote came down stairs a second time, passed through the office, and +stopped to light a cigar. Mr. Graub noticed that he was able to use his +left hand quite cleverly, and asked him whether he was naturally +left-handed; Captain Heathcote answered that he was not, but had learned +the use only since his right arm had been disabled. Mr. Graub, seeing +him go toward the door, thought that it was somewhat singular that he +should wish to take a second walk, and casually remarked upon the warmth +of the evening. Captain Heathcote replied that it was for that very +reason he was going out; he could not breathe in the house; and he added +something not very complimentary to the air (generally considered +unusually salubrious) of Timloesville. Mr. Graub noticed that he walked +up and down on the piazza once or twice, _as if he wished to show +himself plainly to the persons who were sitting there_. He then strolled +away, going toward the main street. + + +"THE OUTSIDE STAIRWAY. + +"As before mentioned, the second room given to Mrs. Heathcote was in a +wing. This wing is not much used; in fact, at the time, save this party +of three, it had no occupants. It is in the old part of the house. A +piazza or gallery runs across a portion of the second story, to which +access is had from the garden by a flight of wooden steps, or rather an +outside stairway. This stairway is old and sagged; in places the railing +is gone. It is probable that Mrs. Heathcote did not even see it. But +Captain Heathcote might have noticed it, and probably did notice it, +from the next street, through which he passed _when he took his first +walk before dark_. + + +"MRS. BAGSHOT'S TESTIMONY. + +"As we have seen, Captain Heathcote left the hotel ostentatiously by the +front entrance at ten o'clock. At eleven, Mrs. Bagshot, who happened to +be looking from her window in the bend of the L, distinctly saw him (her +candle being out) _stealing up by the outside stairway_ in the only +minute of moonlight there was during the entire evening, the clouds +having suddenly and strangely parted, as if for that very purpose. She +saw him enter his wife's room through one of the long windows which +opened to the floor. In about a quarter of an hour she saw him come +forth again, close the blind behind him, and begin to descend the +stairway. As there was no longer any moonlight, she could only +distinguish him by the light that shone from the room; but in that short +space of time, while he was closing the blind, she recognized him +_beyond the possibility of a doubt_. + + +"THE NIGHT PORTER'S TALE. + +"A little before midnight, all the hotel entrances being closed save the +main door, Captain Heathcote returned. As he passed through the office, +the night porter noticed that he looked pale, and that his clothes were +disordered; his shirt cuffs especially were wet and creased, as _though +they had been dipped in water_. He went up stairs to his room, but soon +came down again. He had knocked, but could not awaken his wife. Would +the porter be able to open the door by turning back the key? His wife +was an invalid; he feared she had fainted. + + +"THE TRAGEDY. + +"The night porter--a most respectable person of Irish extraction, named +Dennis Haggerty--came up and opened the door. The lamp was burning +within; the blinds of the window were closed. On the bed, stabbed to the +heart, apparently while she lay asleep, was the body of the wife. + + +"DUMB WITNESSES. + +"Red marks were found on the shutter, which are pronounced by experts to +be the partial print of a _left hand_. On the white cloth which covered +the bureau is a slight impression of finger-tips, also belonging to a +left hand. These marks are too imperfect to be relied upon in +themselves, save that they establish the fact that the hand which +touched the cloth and closed the shutter was a _left hand_. + + +"AN IMPROBABLE STORY. + +"Captain Heathcote asserts that he left the hotel at ten, as testified, +to smoke a cigar and get a breath of fresh air. That he returned through +the garden at eleven, and seeing by the bright light that his wife was +still awake, he went up by the outside stairway, which he had previously +noted, entered the room through the long window to tell her that he was +going to take a bath in the river, and to get towels. He remained a few +minutes, put two towels in his pocket, and came out, going down the same +stairway, across the garden, and along the main road to the river. (A +track, however, has been found to the river through the large meadow +behind the house.) At the bend where road and river meet, he undressed +himself and took a bath. The disorder in his clothing and his wet cuffs +came from his own awkwardness, as he has but partial use of his right +arm. He then returned by the road as he had come, but he _forgot the +towels_. Probably they would be found on the bank where he left them. + + +"THE TOWEL. + +"No towels were found at the point named. But at the end of the track +through the grass meadow, among the reeds on the shore, a towel _was_ +found, and identified as one belonging to the hotel. This towel is +_stained with blood_. + + +"THE THEORY. + +"The theory at Timloesville is that Heathcote had no idea that he would +be seen when he stole up that outside stairway. He knew that the entire +wing was unoccupied: a servant has testified that she told him it was; +and he thought, too, that the maid Bagshot had a room in front, not +commanding the garden. Bagshot says that the room was changed without +his knowledge, while he was absent on his first walk. He supposed, then, +that he would not be seen. He evidently took Mrs. Heathcote's diamond +rings, purse, and watch (they are all missing) in order to turn public +opinion toward the idea that the murder was for the sake of robbery. He +_says_ that a man passed him while he was bathing, and spoke to him; +proof of this would establish something toward the truth of his story. +But, strangely enough, this man can not be found. Yet Timloesville and +its neighborhood are by no means so crowded with inhabitants that the +search should be a difficult one. + +"It may be regarded as a direct misfortune in the cause of justice that +the accused heard any of Bagshot's testimony against him before he was +called upon to give his own account of the events of the evening. And +yet his confused, contradictory story is another proof of the incapacity +which the most cunning murderers often display when overtaken by +suspicion; they seem to lose all power to protect themselves. If Captain +Heathcote had denied Bagshot's testimony in toto, had denied having +ascended the outside stairway at all, his chances would have been much +brighter, for people might have believed that the maid was mistaken. But +he _acknowledges the stairway_, and then denies the rest. + + +"HIS MOTIVE. + +"But how can poor finite man detect so obscure a thing as motive? He +must hide his face and acknowledge his feebleness when he stands before +this inscrutable, heavy-browed, silent Fate. In this case, two solutions +are offered. One, that the wife's large fortune was left by will +unconditionally to her husband; the other, that Mrs. Bagshot will +testify that there was jealousy and ill feeling between these two, +linked together by God's holy ordinance, and that this ill feeling was +connected with a third person, and that person--a woman." + + +EXTRACT FROM THE NEW YORK "ZEUS." + +"Mrs. Heathcote was apparently murdered while asleep. When found, her +face wore a natural and sweet expression, as though she had passed from +slumber into death without even a sigh. The maid testifies that her +mistress always removed her rings at night; it is probable, therefore, +that they, together with her purse and watch, were on the bureau where +the marks of the finger-tips were found. + +"We refrain at present from comment upon the close circumstantial +evidence which surrounds this case; the strong hand of the law will take +hold of it at the proper time, and sift it thoroughly. Meanwhile the +attitude of all right-minded persons should be calm and impartial, and +the accused man should be held innocent until he is proven guilty. Trial +by newspaper is one of the notable evils of our modern American system, +and should be systematically discountenanced and discouraged; when a +human life is trembling in the balance, the sensation-monger should be +silenced, and his evil wares sternly rejected." + + * * * * * + +This negative impartiality was the nearest approach to friendliness +which the accused man received from the combined newspaper columns of +New York, Baltimore, and Washington. + +The body of poor Helen was brought home, and Miss Teller herself arrayed +her darling for her long repose. Friends thronged to see her as she lay +in her luxurious drawing-room; flowers were placed everywhere as though +for a bridal--the bridal of death. Her figure was visible from head to +foot; she seemed asleep. Her still face wore a gentle expression of rest +and peace; her small hands were crossed upon her breast; her unbound +hair fell in waves behind her shoulders, a few strands lying on the +white skirt far below the slender waist, almost to the feet. The long +lashes lay upon the oval cheek; no one would ever see those bright brown +eyes again, and find fault with them because they were too narrow. The +lithe form was motionless; no one would ever again watch it move onward +with its peculiar swaying grace, and find fault with it because it was +too slender. Those who had not been willing to grant her beauty in life, +gazed at her now with tear-dimmed eyes, and willingly gave all the meed +of praise they had withheld before. Those who had not loved her while +she lived, forgot all, and burst into tears when they saw her now, the +delicately featured face once so proud and imperious, quiet forever, +grown strangely youthful too, like the face of a young girl. + +Miss Teller sat beside her darling; to all she made the same set speech: +"Dear Ward, her husband, the one who loved her best, can not be here. I +am staying with her, therefore, until she is taken from us; then I shall +go to him, as _she_ would have wished." For Miss Teller believed no word +of the stories with which the newspapers teemed. Indignation and strong +affection supplied the place of whatever strength had been lacking in +her character, and never before in her life had she appeared as resolute +and clear-minded as now. + +During the funeral services, Isabel Varce sat beside Miss Teller, +sobbing as if her heart would break. Rachel Bannert was next to Isabel. +She had looked once at Helen, only once, and her dark face had quivered +spasmodically; then she also took her seat beside the fair, still form, +and bowed her head. All Helen's companions were clad in mourning garb; +the tragedy of this death had invested it with a deeper sadness than +belonged to the passing away in the ordinary course of nature of even +closer friends. The old-fashioned mansion was full to overflowing; in +the halls and doorway, on the front steps, and even on the pavement +outside, men were standing, bare-headed and silent, many distinguished +faces being among them; society men also, who in general avoided +funerals as unpleasant and grewsome ceremonials. These had been Helen's +companions and friends; they had all liked and admired her, and as she +was borne past them, covered with heliotrope, there was not one whose +eyes did not grow stern in thinking of the dastard hand that did the +cruel deed. + +That night, when darkness fell, many hearts remembered her, lying alone +in the far-off cemetery, the cemetery we call Greenwood, although no +wood made by Nature's hand alone bears the cold white marble flowers +which are found on those fair slopes. And when the next morning dawned, +with dull gray clouds and rain, there were many who could not help +thinking of the beautiful form which had fared softly and delicately all +its life, which had felt only the touch of finest linen and softest +silk, which had never suffered from the cold or the storm, now lying +there alone in the dark soaked earth, with the rain falling upon its +defenseless head, and no one near to replace the wet lilies which the +wind had blown from the mound. + +But those who were thinking thus were mistaken: some one was near. A +girl clad in black and closely veiled stood beside the new-made grave, +with tears dropping on her cheeks, and her hand pressed over her heart. +There were many mourners yesterday; there was but one to-day. There were +many flowers then; now there was only the bunch of violets which this +girl had brought. She had knelt beside the mound, her head undefended +from the rain, and had prayed silently. Then she had risen, but still +she could not go. She paced slowly up and down beside the grave, like a +sentinel keeping watch; only when she perceived that one of the men +employed in the cemetery was watching her curiously, no doubt wondering +why she remained there in the storm, did she turn away at last, and go +homeward again by the long route she had traversed in coming. + +For Anne had not dared to go to the funeral; had not dared to go to Miss +Teller. The hideous sentence in the newspaper had filled her with doubt +and vague alarm. It was not possible that she, Anne, was meant; and yet +Bagshot, from whom this as yet unrevealed testimony was to come, saw her +on the day she visited Helen, after the tidings of her husband's death. +Surely this was too slight a foundation upon which to found her vague +alarm. She repeated to herself that her dread was unreasonable, yet it +would not down. If the danger had been open, she could have faced and +defied it; but this mute, unknown something, which was only to be +revealed by the power and in the presence of the law, held her back, +bound hand and foot, afraid almost to breathe. For her presence or words +might, in some way she could not foresee or even comprehend, bring +increased danger upon the head of the accused man, already weighted down +with a crushing load of suspicion, which grew heavier every hour. + +Suspense supplies a calmness of its own. Anne went into the city as +usual, gave her lessons, and went through all the forms of her +accustomed living, both at home and abroad. Yet all the time she was +accompanied by a muffled shape, its ghostly eyes fixed upon her through +its dark veil, menacing but silent. It was dread. + +When the hour came, and she knew that the old words were being spoken +over Helen: "In the midst of life we are in death: of whom may we seek +for succor but of Thee?" "Before the mountains were brought forth, or +ever the earth and the world were made, Thou art God from everlasting." +"A thousand years in Thy sight are but as yesterday, seeing that is past +as a watch in the night." "And now, Lord, what is my hope? Truly my hope +is even in Thee"--she bowed her head and joined in the sentences mutely, +present at least in spirit. The next day, while the rain fell sombrely, +she went to the distant cemetery: no one would be there in the storm, +and she wished to stand once more by Helen's side--poor Helen, beautiful +Helen, taken from this life's errors forever, perhaps already, in +another world, understanding all, repentant for all, forgiving all. + +There was no one to whom Anne could speak upon the subject which was +burning like a constant fire within her heart. And when, a few days +later, a letter came from Gregory Dexter, she opened it eagerly: there +would be, there must be, comfort here. She read the pages quickly, and +her heart stood still. "If I thought that there was the least danger +that the secret of this cowardly, cruel deed would not be found out," +wrote Dexter, "I should at once leave all this labor in which I am +engaged, important as it is, and devote myself to the search for proofs +to convict the murderer. Never in my life has my desire for swift, +sharp justice been so deeply stirred." + +Anne laid down the letter with a trembling hand. If he "thought that +there was the least danger"; then he thought there was none. But so far +no one had been apprehended, or even suspected, save Ward Heathcote +alone. Did he think, then, that Heathcote was guilty? _Could_ he think +this, knowing him as he did, having been in a certain sense his +companion and friend? + +Dexter had not liked Heathcote personally, but he was capable of just +judgment above his personal likings and dislikings, and Anne knew it. +She knew that he had examined the testimony impartially. It must be, +then, it must be, that there were grounds for his belief. She took her +pen and wrote a burning letter--a letter of entreaty and passionate +remonstrance. And then, the next morning, she burned it: she must not +write or speak on the subject at all, not even to him. + +The slow days moved onward like the processions of a dream. But no one +noticed any change in the young teacher, who journeyed wearily through +the long hours. Old Nora saw the piles of newspapers in her mistress's +room, but as she could not read, they betrayed nothing. She would not, +besides, have recognized Helen under the name of Heathcote; the +beautiful lady who had visited the half-house in the days of +Jeanne-Armande was named Lorrington. The slow days moved on, but not +without events. In this case the law had moved speedily. An indictment +had been found, and the trial was to take place without delay in the +county town of the district to which Timloesville belonged. + +Miss Teller had gone to this town; the newspapers said that she had +taken a house, and would remain during the trial, or as long as Captain +Heathcote was confined there. Anne, reading these items, reading the +many descriptions of Heathcote, the suggestions regarding the murder, +the theories concerning the blunder (for it was conceded that there had +been a blunder), asked herself wonderingly if he had no friends left--no +friends on earth, save herself and Miss Teller? The whole world seemed +to be against him. But she judged only from the newspapers. There was +another side. This was a small, local, but in one way powerful, +minority, which stood by the accused man immovably. This minority was +composed almost entirely of women--women high in New York society, +Helen's own companions and friends. They formed a determined band of +champions, who, without condescending to use any arguments, but simply +through their own personality, exerted a strong influence, limited, it +is true, but despotic. If the case was tried beforehand by the +newspapers, it was also tried beforehand by sweet voices and scornful +lips in many New York drawing-rooms. Society resolved itself into two +parties--those who did and those who did not believe in the guilt of the +imprisoned man. Those who did believe were almost all men; those who did +not, almost all women; the exceptions being a few men who stood by +Heathcote in spite of the evidence, and a few women who, having logical +minds, stood by the evidence in spite of themselves. + +When the trial began, not only was Miss Teller present, but Mrs. Varce +and Isabel, Mrs. Bannert and her daughter-in-law, together with others +equally well known as friends of Helen's, and prominent members of New +York's fashionable society. + +Multomah, the little county town, was excited; its one hotel was +crowded. The country people came in to attend the trial from miles +around; great lawyers were to be present, there was to be "mighty fine +speaking." The gentleman had murdered his wife for the million dollars +she constantly carried with her. The gentleman had murdered his wife +because she had just discovered that he was already married before he +met her, and he was afraid she would reveal the secret. A local preacher +improved the occasion by a sermon decked profusely with Apollyons and +Abaddons. It was not clearly known what he meant, or where he stood; but +the discourse was listened to by a densely packed crowd of farming +people, who came out wiping their foreheads, and sat down on convenient +tombstones to talk it over, and eat their dinners, brought in baskets, +trying the case again beforehand for the five-hundredth time, with +texts and Scripture phrases thrown in to give it a Sabbath flavor. + +The New York dailies had sent their reporters; every evening Anne read +their telegraphic summaries of the day's events; every morning, the +account of the same in detail. She was not skillful enough to extract +the real evidence from the mass of irrelevant testimony with which it +was surrounded, the questions and answers, the confusing pertinacity of +the lawyers over some little point which seemed to her as far from the +real subject as a blade of grass is from the fixed stars. She turned, +therefore, to the printed comments which day by day accompanied the +report of the proceedings, gathering from them the progress made, and +their ideas of the probabilities which lay in the future. The progress +seemed rapid; the probabilities were damning. No journal pretended that +they were otherwise. Yet still the able pens of the calmer writers +counselled deliberation. "There have been cases with even closer +evidence than this," they warningly wrote, "in which the accused, by +some unexpected and apparently trivial turn in the testimony, has been +proven clearly innocent. In this case, while the evidence is strong, it +is difficult to imagine a motive. Mrs. Heathcote was much attached to +her husband; she was, besides, a beautiful, accomplished, and +fascinating woman. That a man should deliberately plan to murder such a +wife, merely in order to obtain possession of wealth which was already +practically his, is incredible; and until some more reasonable motive is +discovered, many will refuse to believe even the evidence." + +Anne, reading this sentence, felt faint. So far the mysterious testimony +to which vague allusion had been made in the beginning had not been +brought forward; the time had been occupied by the evidence concerning +the events at Timloesville, and the questioning and cross-questioning of +the Timloesville witnesses. A "more reasonable motive." The veiled shape +that accompanied her seemed to assume more definite outline, and to grow +from Dread into Fear. And yet she could not tell of what she was +afraid. + +The days passed, and she wondered how it was that she could still eat, +and sleep, and speak as usual, while her whole being was away in that +little Pennsylvania town. She did speak and teach as usual, but she did +not eat or sleep. Something besides food sustained her. Was it hope? Or +fear? Oh, why did not all the world cry out that he was not, could not +be guilty! Were people all mad, and deaf, and blind? She lived on in a +suspense which was like a continual endurance of suffocation, which yet +never quite attains the relief of death. + +Miss Teller's lawyers labored with skill and vigilance; all that +talent--nay, more, genius--could do, they did. Their theory was that the +murder was committed by a third person, who entered Mrs. Heathcote's +room by the same outside stairway which her husband had used, after his +departure; and they defied the prosecution to prove that they were +wrong. In answer to this theory the prosecution presented certain facts, +namely: that Heathcote was seen entering by the outside stairway, and +that no one else was seen; that the impressions found there were those +of a left hand, and that Heathcote was at the time left-handed; that a +towel, marked with the name of the hotel and stained with blood, was +found on the river-bank at the end of a direct trail from the garden, +and that the chamber-maid testified that, whereas she had placed four +towels in the room a few hours before, there were in the morning but two +remaining, and that no others were missing from the whole number owned +by the hotel. + +At this stage of the proceedings, Anne, sitting in her own room as usual +now in the evening, with one newspaper in her hand and the others +scattered on the floor by her side, heard a knock on the door below, +but, in her absorption, paid no attention to it. In a few moments, +however, Nora came up to say that Mr. Dexter was in the parlor, and +wished to see her. + +Here was an unexpected trial. She had sent a short, carefully guarded +answer to his long letter, and he had not written again. It had been +comparatively easy to guard written words. But could she command those +that must be spoken? She bathed her face in cold water, and stood +waiting until she felt that she had called up a calmer expression; she +charged herself to guard every look, every word, even the tones of her +voice. Then she went down. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + + "I can account for nothing you women do, although I have lived + among you seventy-five years."--WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR. + + +As she entered the little parlor, Dexter came forward to meet her. "You +are looking very well," he said, almost reproachfully. + +"I am very well," she answered. "And you?" + +"Not well at all. What with the constant and harassing work I am doing, +and this horrible affair concerning poor Helen, I confess that I feel +worn and old. It is not often that I acknowledge either. I have been +busy in the city all day, and must return to my post on the midnight +train; but I had two or three hours to spare, and so I have come out to +see you. Before we say anything else, however, tell me about yourself. +How is it with you at present?" + +Glad of a respite, she described to him, with more details than she had +hitherto thought necessary, her position, her pupils, and her daily +life. She talked rapidly, giving him no opportunity to speak; she hardly +knew herself as she went along. At last, however, he did break through +the stream of her words. "I am glad you find interest in these matters," +he said, coldly. "With me it is different; I can think of nothing but +poor Helen." + +It was come: now for self-control. All her words failed suddenly; she +could not speak. + +"Are you not haunted by it?" he continued. "Do you not constantly see +her lying there asleep, that pale hair unbraided, those small helpless +hands bare of all their jewels--poor defenseless little hands, decked +only with the mockery of that wedding ring?" + +He was gazing at the wall, as though it were all pictured there. Anne +made no reply, and after a pause he went on. "Helen was a fascinating +woman; but she was, or could be if she chose, an intensely exasperating +woman as well. I am no coward; I think I may say the reverse; but I +would rather be alone with a tigress than with such a woman as she would +have been, if roused to jealous fury. She would not have stirred, she +would not have raised her voice, but she would have spoken words that +would have stung like asps and cut like Damascus blades. No devil would +have shown in that kind of torment greater ingenuity. I am a +self-controlled man, yet I can imagine Helen Lorrington driving me, if +she had tried, into such a state of frenzy that I should hardly know +what I was doing. In such a case I should end, I think, by crushing her +in my arms, and fairly strangling the low voice that taunted me. But--I +could never have stabbed her in her sleep!" + +Again he paused, and again Anne kept silence. But he did not notice it; +he was absorbed in his own train of thought. + +"It is a relief to speak of this to you," he continued, "for you knew +Helen, and Heathcote also. Do you know I can imagine just how she worked +upon him; how that fair face and those narrow eyes of hers wrought their +deadly darts. Her very want of strength was an accessory; for if she +could have risen and struck him, if she had been _capable_ of any such +strong action, the exasperation would have been less. But that a +creature so helpless, one whose slight form he had been used to carry +about the house in his arms, one who could not walk far unaided--that +such a creature should lie there, in all her delicate beauty, and with +barbed words deliberately torment him-- Anne, I can imagine a rush of +madness which might well end in murder and death. But not a plot. If he +had killed her in a passion, and then boldly avowed the deed, giving +himself up, I should have had some sympathy with him, in spite of the +horror of the deed. But to arrange the method of his crime (as he +evidently tried to do) so that he would not be discovered, but be +enabled quietly to inherit her money--bah! I almost wish I were the +hangman myself! Out on the border he would have been lynched long ago." + +His listener still remained mute, but a little fold of flesh inside her +lips was bitten through by her clinched teeth in the effort she made to +preserve that muteness. + +It seemed to have been a relief to Dexter to let out those strong words. +He paused, turned toward Anne, and for the first time noted her dress. +"Are you in mourning?" he asked, doubtfully, looking at the unbroken +black of her attire. + +"It is the same dress I have worn for several months." + +He did not know enough of the details of a woman's garb to see that the +change came from the absence of white at the throat and wrists. After +Helen's death poor Anne had sewed black lace in her plain black gown; it +was the only mourning she could allow herself. + +The moment was now come when she must say something. Dexter, his +outburst over, was leaning back in his chair, looking at her. "Miss +Teller has gone to Multomah, I believe," she remarked, neutrally. + +"Yes; singularly enough, she believes him innocent. I heard, while in +the city to-day, that the Varces and Bannerts and others of that set +believe it also, and are all at Multomah 'for the moral effect.' For the +moral effect!" He threw back his head and laughed scornfully. "I wish I +had time to run up there myself," he added, "to dwell upon the moral +effect of all those fine ladies. However, the plain American people have +formed their own opinion of this case, and are not likely to be moved by +such influences. They understand. This very evening, on the train, I +heard a mechanic say, 'If the jurymen were only fine ladies, now, that +Heathcote would get off yet.'" + +"How can you repeat such words?" said the girl, blazing out suddenly and +uncontrollably, as a fire which has been long smothered bursts into +sudden and overpowering flame at the last. + +"Of course it is bad taste to jest on such a subject. I only-- Why, Anne, +what is the matter?" For she had risen and was standing before him, her +eyes brilliant with an expression which was almost hate. + +"You believe that he did it?" she said. + +"I do." + +"And I do _not_! You say that Helen taunted him, that she drove him +into a frenzy; you imagine the scene, and picture its details. Know that +Helen loved him with her whole heart. Whatever she may have been to you, +to him she was utterly devoted, living upon his words and his smile. She +esteemed herself blessed simply to be near him--in his presence; and, on +that very night, she said that no wife was ever so happy, and that on +her knees she had thanked her Creator for that which made her life one +long joy." + +Gregory Dexter's face had showed the profoundest wonder while the +excited girl was speaking, but by the time she ceased he had, in his +quick way, grasped something of the truth, unexpected and astonishing +though it was. + +"You know this?" he said. "Then she wrote to you." + +"Yes." + +"On the evening of her death?" + +"Yes." + +"Bagshot testifies that when she left the room, at nine, Mrs. Heathcote +was writing. Was that this letter to you?" + +"I presume it was." + +"When and how was it mailed? Or rather, what is the date of the +postmark?" + +"The next morning." + +Dexter looked at her searchingly. "This may prove to be very important," +he said. + +"I know it--now." + +"Why have you not spoken before?" + +"To whom could I speak? Besides, it has not seemed important to me until +now; for no one has suggested that she did not love her husband, that +she tormented him and drove him into fury, save yourself alone." + +"You will see that others will suggest it also," said Dexter, unmoved by +her scorn. "Are you prepared to produce this letter?" + +"I have it." + +"Can I see it?" + +"I would rather not show it." + +"There is determined concealment here somewhere, Anne, and I am much +troubled; I fear you stand very near great danger. Remember that this is +a serious matter, and ordinary rules should be set aside, ordinary +feelings sacrificed. You will do well to show me that letter, and, in +short, to tell me the whole truth plainly. Do you think you have any +friend more steadfast than myself?" + +"You are kind. But--you are prejudiced." + +"Against Heathcote, do you mean?" said Dexter, a sudden flash coming for +an instant into his gray eyes. "Is it possible that _you_, you too, are +interested in that man?" + +But at this touch upon her heart the girl controlled herself again. She +resumed her seat, with her face turned toward the window. "I do not +believe that he did it, and you do," she answered, quietly. "That makes +a wide separation between us." + +But for the moment the man who sat opposite had forgotten the present, +to ask himself, with the same old inward wonder and anger, why it was +that this other man, who had never done anything or been anything in his +life, who had never denied himself, never worked, never accomplished +anything--why it was that such a man as this had led captive Helen, +Rachel, and now perhaps Anne. If it had been a case of great personal +beauty, he could have partially accounted for it, and--scorned it. But +it was not. Many a face was more regularly handsome than Heathcote's; he +knew that he himself would be pronounced by the majority a handsomer, +although of course older, man. But when he realized that he was going +over this same old bitter ground, by a strong effort of will he stopped +himself and returned to reality. Heathcote's power, whatever it was, and +angry as it made him, was nevertheless a fact, and Dexter never +contradicted facts. With his accurate memory, he now went back and took +up Anne's last answer. "You say I believe it. It is true," he said, +turning toward her (he had been sitting with his eyes cast down during +this whirl of feeling); "but my belief is not founded upon prejudice, as +you seem to think. It rests upon the evidence. Let us go over the +evidence together: women are sometimes intuitively right, even against +reason." + +"I can not go over it." + +But he persisted. "It would be better," he said, determined to draw the +whole truth from her, if not in one way, then in another. For he +realized how important it was that she should have an adviser. + +She looked up and met his eyes; they were kind but unyielding. "Very +well," she said, making an effort to do even this. She leaned back in +her chair and folded her hands: people could endure, then, more than +they knew. + +Dexter, not giving her a moment's delay, began immediately: his object +was to rouse her and draw her out. "We will take at first simply the +testimony," he said. "I have the main points here in my note-book. We +will even suppose that we do not know the persons concerned, but think +of them as strangers." He went over the evidence clearly and briefly. +Then the theories. "Note," he said, "the difference. On one side we have +a series of facts, testified to by a number of persons. On the other, a +series of possibilities, testified to by no one save the prisoner +himself. The defense is a theory built to fit the case, without one +proof, no matter how small, as a foundation." + +Anne had not stirred. Her eyes were turned away, gazing into the +darkness of the garden. Dexter closed his note-book, and returned it to +his pocket. + +"They have advanced no further in the real trial," he said; "but you and +I will now drop our rôle of strangers, and go on. We know him; we knew +her. Can we think of any cause which would account for such an act? Was +there any reason why Ward Heathcote would have been relieved by the +death of his wife?" + +Anne remained silent. + +"The common idea that he wished to have sole control of her wealth will +hardly, I think, be received by those who have personally known him," +continued Dexter. "He never cared for money. He was, in my opinion, +ostentatiously indifferent to it." Here he paused to control the tone of +his voice, which was growing bitter. "I repeat--can you imagine any +other reason?" he said. Still she did not answer. + +"Why do you not answer? I shall begin to suspect that you do." + +At this she stirred a little, and he was satisfied. He had moved her +from her rigidity. Not wishing to alarm her, he went on, tentatively: +"My theory of the motive you are not willing to allow; still, I consider +it a possible and even probable one. For they were not happy: _he_ was +not happy. Beautiful as she was, rich as she was, I was told, when I +first came eastward in the spring, soon after their marriage, that had +it not been for that accident and the dangerous illness that followed, +Helen Lorrington would never have been Ward Heathcote's wife." + +"Who told you this?" said Anne, turning toward him. + +"I did not hear it from her, but it came from her--Rachel Bannert." + +"She is a traitorous woman." + +"Yes; but traitors betray--the truth." + +He was watching her closely; she felt it, and turned toward the window +again, so that he should not see her eyes. + +"Suppose that he did not love her, but had married her under the +influence of pity, when her life hung by a thread; suppose that she +loved him--you say she did. Can you not imagine that there might have +been moments when she tormented him beyond endurance concerning his past +life--who knows but his present also? She was jealous; and she had +wonderful ingenuity. But I doubt if you comprehend what I mean: a woman +never knows a woman as a man knows her. And Heathcote was not patient. +He is a self-indulgent man--a man who has been completely spoiled." + +Again he paused. Then he could not resist bringing forward something +else, under any circumstances, to show her that she was of no +consequence in the case compared with another person. "It is whispered, +I hear, that the maid will testify that there was a motive, and a strong +one, namely, a rival; that there was another woman whom Heathcote really +loved, and that Helen knew this, and used the knowledge." + +[Illustration: "HE ROSE, AND TOOK HER COLD HANDS IN HIS."] + +The formless dread which accompanied Anne began now to assume +definite outline and draw nearer. She gazed at her inquisitor with eyes +full of dumb distress. + +He rose, and took her cold hands in his. "Child," he said, earnestly, "I +beseech you tell me all. It will be so much better for you, so much +safer. You are suffering intensely. I have seen it all the evening. Can +you not trust me?" + +She still looked at him in silence, while the tears rose, welled over, +and rolled slowly down. + +"Can you not trust me?" he repeated. + +She shook her head. + +"But as you have told me something, why not tell me all?" + +"I am afraid to tell all," she whispered. + +"For yourself?" + +"No." + +"For him, then?" + +"Yes." + +He clinched his hand involuntarily as he heard this answer. Her pale +face and agitation were all for him, then--for Ward Heathcote! + +"You are really shaken by fear," he said. "I know its signs, or rather +those of dread. It is pure dread which has possession of you now. How +unlike you, Anne! How unlike yourself you are at this moment!" + +But she cared nothing for herself, nothing for the scorn in his voice +(the jealous are often loftily scornful), and he saw that she did not. + +"Whom do you fear? The maid?" + +"Yes." + +"What can she say?" + +"I do not know; and yet--" + +"Is it possible--can it be possible, Anne, that _you_ are the person +implicated, the so-called rival?" + +"I do not know; and it is because I do not know that I am so much +afraid," she answered, still in the same low whisper. + +"But why should you take this possibility upon yourself? Ward Heathcote +is no Sir Galahad, Heaven knows. Probably at this moment twenty women +are trembling as you are trembling, fearing lest they be called by +name, and forced forward before the world." + +He spoke with anger. Anne did not contradict him, but she leaned her +head upon her hand weariedly, and closed her eyes. + +"How can I leave you?" he said, breaking into his old kindness again. "I +ought to go, but it is like leaving a girl in the hands of torturers. If +there were only some one to be with you here until all this is over!" + +"There is no one. I want no one." + +"You puzzle me deeply," he said, walking up and down with troubled +anxiety. "I can form no opinion as to whether your dread is purely +imaginary or not, because you tell me nothing. If you were an ordinary +woman, I should not give much thought to what you say--or rather to what +you look, for you say nothing; but you are not ordinary. You are +essentially brave, and you have fewer of the fantastic, irrelevant +fancies of women than any girl I have ever known. There must be +something, then, to fear, since _you_ fear so intensely. I like you, +Anne; I respect you. I admire you too, more than you know. You are so +utterly alone in this trouble that I can not desert you. And I will +not." + +"Do not stay on my account." + +"But I shall. That is, in the city; it is decided. Here is my address. +Promise that if you should wish help or advice in any way--mark that I +say, in any way--you will send me instantly a dispatch." + +"I will." + +"There is nothing more that I can do for you?" + +"Nothing." + +"And nothing that you will tell me? Think well, child." + +"Nothing." + +Then, as it was late, he made her renew her promise, and went away. + +The next morning the package of newspapers was brought to Anne from the +station at an early hour as usual. She was in her own room waiting for +them. She watched the boy coming along the road, and felt a sudden +thrill of anger when he stopped to throw a stone at a bird. To stop +with _that_ in his hand! Old Nora brought up the package. Anne took it, +and closed the door. Then she sat down to read. + +Half an hour later, Gregory Dexter received a telegraphic dispatch from +Lancaster. "Come immediately. A. D." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + + "He was first always. Fortune + Shone bright in his face. + I fought for years; with no effort + He conquered the place. + We ran; my feet were all bleeding, + But he won the race. + + "My home was still in the shadow; + His lay in the sun. + I longed in vain; what he asked for, + It straightway was done. + Once I staked all my heart's treasure; + We played--and he won!" + + --ADELAIDE PROCTER. + + +When the dispatch came, Dexter had not yet seen the morning papers. He +ate his breakfast hastily, and on the way to the station and on the +train he read them with surprise and a tumultuous mixture of other +feelings, which he did not stop then to analyze. Mrs. Bagshot had been +brought forward a second time by the prosecution, and had testified to +an extraordinary conversation which had taken place between Mrs. +Heathcote and an unknown young girl on the morning after the news of +Captain Heathcote's death in the Shenandoah Valley had been received, +parts of which (the conversation) she, in an adjoining room, had +overheard. He had barely time to grasp the tenor of the evidence (which +was voluminous and interrupted by many questions) when the train reached +Lancaster, and he found Li in waiting with the red wagon. All Li could +tell was that Miss Douglas was "going on a journey." She was "all ready, +with her bonnet on." + +In the little parlor he found her, walking up and down, as he had +walked during the preceding evening. White as her face was, there was a +new expression in her eyes--an expression of energy. In some way she had +reached a possibility of action, and consequently a relief. When he had +entered, with a rapid motion she closed the doors. "Have you read it?" +she said. + +"You mean the new testimony? Yes; I read it as I came out." + +"And you understood, of course, that it was I?" + +"I feared it might be." + +"And you see that I must go immediately to Multomah?" + +"By heavens! no. I see nothing of the kind. Rather should you hasten as +far away as possible--to England, Germany--some distant spot where you +can safely rest until all danger, danger of discovery, is over." + +"So _you_ believe it also!" cried the girl, with scathing emphasis. "You +believe and condemn! Believe that garbled, distorted story; condemn, +when you only know half! Like all the rest of the world, you are in +haste to believe, glad to believe, the worst--in haste to join the hue +and cry against a hunted man." + +She stood in the centre of the room, her form drawn up to its full +height, her eyes flashing. She looked inspired--inspired with anger and +scorn. + +"Then it _is_ garbled?" said Dexter, finding time even at that moment to +admire her beauty, which had never before been so striking. + +"It is. And I must go to Multomah and give the true version. Tell me +what train to take." + +"First tell _me_, Anne; tell me the whole story. Let me hear it before +you give it to the world. Surely there can be no objection to my knowing +it now." + +"There is no objection; but I can not lose the time. I must start." + +A travelling-bag stood on the table beside her shawl and gloves; the red +wagon was waiting outside. He comprehended that nothing would stop her, +and took his measures accordingly. + +"I can arrange everything for you, and I will, and without the least +delay. But first you must tell me the whole," he said, sitting down and +folding his arms. "I will not work in the dark. As to time, the loss of +an hour is nothing compared with the importance of gaining my +co-operation, for the moment I am convinced, I will telegraph to the +court-room itself, and stop proceedings until you arrive. With my help, +my name, my influence, behind you, you can accomplish anything. But what +could you do alone? You would be misunderstood, misrepresented, +subjected to doubt, suspicion, perhaps insult. Have you thought of +this?" + +"I mind nothing if I can but save him." + +"But if you can save him more effectually with my assistance?" + +"How can that be, when you dislike, suspect him?" + +"Do you wish to drive me into a rage? Can I not be just to Ward +Heathcote whether I like him or not, suspect him or not? Yes, even +though I believe him to be guilty? Try me. If I promise to go with you +to Multomah to-day, even if I think your presence there will be of no +avail, will _that_ induce you?" + +"Yes." + +"Then I promise." + +Without pausing, she sat down by the table, taking a newspaper from her +pocket. "You have one," she said; "please follow me in the one you have. +When I saw the notice of his death, I went immediately to Helen. This +woman Bagshot testifies that she was in the next room. I am positive +that at first both the doors of Helen's room were closed; Bagshot, +therefore, must have slightly opened one of them afterward unobserved by +us. There was a curtain hanging partly over this door, but only partly; +she could have opened it, therefore, but slightly, or we should have +noticed the change. This accounts for the little that she caught--only +those sentences that were spoken in an elevated voice, for Helen's room +is large. It will shorten the story, I think, if we read the summary on +the editorial page." And in a clear voice she read as follows: "'Our +readers will remember that at the beginning of the Heathcote trial we +expressed the opinion that until some more probable motive for the deed +than the desire to obtain control of wealth already practically his own +was discovered in connection with the accused, the dispassionate +observer would refuse to believe his guilt, despite the threatening +nature of the evidence. This motive appears now to have been supplied.' +In another column parts of a remarkable conversation are given, +overheard by the witness Bagshot--a conversation between Mrs. Heathcote +and an unknown and beautiful young girl, who came to the house on the +morning after the announcement of Captain Heathcote's death in the +Shenandoah Valley, and before the contradiction of the same had been +received. This young girl was a stranger to the man Simpson, who opened +the front door, and Simpson has been in Mrs. Heathcote's service for +some time. He testifies that she was denied entrance, Mrs. Heathcote not +being able to see any one. She then tore a leaf from her note-book, +wrote a line upon it, and requested him to carry it to his mistress, +adding that she thought Mrs. Heathcote would see her. As intimate +friends had already been refused, Simpson was incredulous, but performed +his duty. To his surprise, Mrs. Heathcote sent Bagshot to say that the +stranger was to come to her immediately, and accordingly she was ushered +up stairs, and the door closed. Upon being questioned as to what the +line of writing was, Simpson replied that he did not read it. Bagshot, +however, testifies that, in accordance with her duty, she cast her eye +over it, and that it contained the following words: "Do let me come to +you. Crystal." The word "Crystal" was a signature, and Mrs. Heathcote +seemed to recognize it. Bagshot testifies that the visitor was young and +beautiful, although plainly, almost poorly, dressed, and that she +remained with Mrs. Heathcote nearly two hours. Very soon after her +departure the telegraphic dispatch was received announcing Captain +Heathcote's safety, and then the wife started on that fatal journey +which was to end in death. + +"'This woman, Bagshot, so far the most important witness in the case, +testifies that she heard only parts of the conversation--a few detached +sentences which were spoken in an elevated tone. But, disconnected as +the phrases are, they are brimming with significance. The important +parts of her story are as follows: First, she heard Mrs. Heathcote say, +"I shall never rest until you tell me all!" Second, that she cried out +excitedly: "You have robbed me of his love. I will never forgive you." +Third, that she said, rapidly and in a high, strained voice: "Since he +saw you he has never loved me; I see it now. He married me from pity, no +doubt thinking that I was near death. How many times he must have wished +me dead indeed! I wonder _that he has not murdered me_." Fourth, that +later she said: "Yes, he has borne it so far, and now he is dead. But if +he were alive, I should have taunted him with it. Do you hear? I say I +should have taunted him." Fifth (and most remarkable of all), that this +stranger made a strong and open avowal of her own love for the dead man, +the extraordinary words of which are given in another column. There are +several other sentences, but they are unfinished and comparatively +unimportant. + +"'The intelligent observer will not fail to note the significance of +this testimony, which bears upon the case not only by supplying a motive +for the deed, but also, possibly, its immediate cause, in the words of +the deeply roused and jealous wife: "I should have taunted him with it. +I say I should have taunted him." + +"'The witness has been subjected to the closest cross-questioning; it +seems impossible to confuse her, or to shake her evidence in the +slightest degree. Divest her testimony of all comment and theory, and it +still remains as nearly conclusive as any evidence, save ocular, can be. +She it is who saw the prisoner enter his wife's room by stealth shortly +before the murder; she it is who overheard the avowal of the rival, the +rage and bitter jealousy of the wife, and her declaration that if her +husband had lived she would have made known to him her discovery, and +taunted him with it. + +"'He did live; the report of his death was a mistake. It is more than +probable that the wife carried out her threat.'" + +Here Anne paused and laid the newspaper down; she was composed and +grave. + +"I will now tell you," she said, lifting her eyes to Dexter's face, +"what really occurred and what really was said. As I stated before, upon +seeing the announcement of her husband's death, I went to Helen. I wrote +upon a slip of paper the line you have heard, and signed the name by +which she always called me. As I had hoped, she consented to see me, and +this woman, Bagshot, took me up stairs to her room. We were alone. Both +doors were closed at first, I know; we supposed that they remained +closed all the time. I knelt down by the low couch and took her in my +arms. I kissed her, and stroked her hair. I could not cry; neither could +she. I sorrowed over her in silence. For some time we did not speak. But +after a while, with a long sigh, she said, 'Anne, I deceived him about +the name in the marriage notice--Angélique; I let him think that it was +you.' I said, 'It is of no consequence,' but she went on. She said that +after that summer at Caryl's she had noticed a change in him, but that +she did not think of me; she thought only of Rachel Bannert. But when he +brought her the marriage notice, and asked if it were I, in an instant +an entirely new suspicion leaped into her heart, roused by something in +the tone of his voice: she always judged him by his voice. From that +moment, she said, she had never been free from the jealous apprehension +that he had loved me; and then, looking at me as she lay in my arms, she +asked, 'But he never did, did he?' + +"If I could have evaded her then, perhaps we should both have been +spared all that followed, for we both suffered deeply. But I did not +know how; I answered: 'He had fancies, Helen; I may have been one of +them. But only for a short time. _You_ were his wife.' And then I asked +her if her married life had not been happy. + +"'Yes, yes,' she answered. 'I worshipped him.' And as she said this she +began at last to sob, and the first tears she had shed flowed from her +eyes, which had been so dulled and narrowed that they had looked dead. +But she had not been satisfied, and later she came back to the subject +again. She did it suddenly; seizing my arm, and lifting herself up, she +cried out quickly that first sentence overheard by Bagshot--'I shall +never rest until you tell me all!' Then, in a beseeching tone, she +added: 'Do not keep it from me. I know that he did not love me as I +loved him; still, he loved me, and I--was content. What you have to +tell, therefore, can not hurt me, for--I was content. Then speak, Anne, +speak.' + +"I tried to quiet her, but she clung to me entreatingly. 'Tell me--tell +me all,' she begged. 'When they bring him home, and I see his still face +lying in the coffin, I want to stand beside him with my hand upon his +breast, and whisper that I know all, understand all, forgive all, if +there were anything to forgive. Anne, he will be glad to hear that--yes, +even in death; for I loved him--love him--with all my soul, and he must +know it now, there where he has gone. With all my imperfections, my +follies, my deceptions, I loved him--loved him--loved him.' She began to +weep, and I too burst into tears. It seemed to _me_ also that he would +be glad to hear that sentence of hers, that forgiveness. And so, judging +her by myself, I did tell her all." + +She paused, and her voice trembled, as though in another moment it would +break into sobs. + +"What did you tell her?" said Dexter. He was leaning back in his chair, +his face divested of all expression save a rigid impartiality. + +"Must I repeat it?" + +"Of course, if I am to know all." + +"I told her that at Caryl's we had been much together," she began, with +downcast eyes; "that, after a while, he made himself seem much nearer to +me by--by speaking of--by asking me about--sacred things--I mean a +religious belief." (Here her listener's face showed a quick gleam of +angry contempt, but she did not see it.) "Then, after this, one morning +in the garden, when I was in great trouble, he--spoke to me--in another +way. And when I went away from Caryl's he followed me, and we were +together on a train during one day; mademoiselle was with us. At evening +I left the train with mademoiselle: he did not know where we went. At +this time I was engaged to Erastus Pronando. In August of the next +summer I went to West Virginia to assist in the hospitals for a short +time. Here, unexpectedly, I heard of him lying ill at a farm-house in +the neighborhood; I did not even know that he was in the army. I went +across the mountain to see if he were in good hands, and found him very +ill; he did not know me. When the fever subsided, there were a few +hours--during which there was a--deception, followed by a confession of +the same, and separation. He was to go back to his wife, and he did go +back to her. It was because I believed that he had so fully gone back to +her--or rather that he had never left her, I having been but a passing +fancy--that I told Helen all. She suspected something; it was better +that she should know the whole--should know how short-lived had been his +interest in me, his forgetfulness of her. But instead of making this +impression upon her, it roused in her a passion of excitement. It was +then that she exclaimed: 'You have robbed me of his love; I will never +forgive you'--the second sentence overheard by that listening spy. + +"'Helen,' I answered, 'he did not love me. Do you not see that? _I_ am +the one humiliated. When I saw you with him at St. Lucien's Church, I +knew that he loved you--probably had never loved any one save you.' + +"I believed what I said. But this is what she answered: 'It is not true. +Since he saw you he has never loved me. I see it now. He married me from +pity, no doubt thinking that I was near death. How many times he must +have wished me dead indeed! I wonder that he has not murdered me.' + +"This, also, Bagshot heard, for Helen had risen to her feet, and spoke +in a high, strained voice, unlike her own. I put my arms round her and +drew her down again. She struggled, but I would not let her go. + +"'Helen,' I said, 'you are beside yourself. You were his wife, and you +were happy. That one look I had in church showed me that you were.' + +"She relapsed into stillness. After a while she looked up, and said, +quietly, 'It is a good thing he is dead.' + +"'Hush!' I answered; 'you do not know what you are saying.' + +"'Yes, I do. It is a good thing that he is dead,' she repeated; 'for I +should have found it out, and made his life a torment. And I should +never have died; it would have determined me never to die. I should have +lived on forever, an old, old woman, close to him always, so that he +could not have _you_.' + +"She seemed half mad; I think, at the moment, she was half mad, owing to +the shock, and to the dumb grief which was consuming her. + +"'It would have been a strange life we should have led,' she went on. 'I +would not have left him even for a moment; he should have put on my +shawl and carried me to and fro just the same, and I should have kissed +him always when he went out and came in, as though we loved each other. +I know his nature. It is--O God! I mean it _was_--the kind I could have +worked upon. He was generous, very tender to all women; he would have +yielded to me always, so far as bearing silently all my torments to the +last.'" + +Here Dexter interrupted the speaker. "You will acknowledge _now_ what I +said concerning her?" + +"No," replied Anne; "Helen imagined it all. She could never have carried +it out. She loved him too deeply." + +Her eyes met his defiantly. The old feeling that he was an antagonist +rose in her face for a moment, met by a corresponding retort in his. +Then they both dropped their glance, and she resumed her narrative. + +"It was here that she cried out, 'Yes, he has borne it so far, and now +he is dead. But if he were alive, I should have taunted him with it. Do +you hear? I say I should have taunted him.' This also Bagshot overheard. +And then--" She paused. + +"And then?" repeated Dexter, his eyes full upon her face. + +"She grew calmer," said the girl, turning her face from him, and +speaking for the first time hurriedly; "she even kissed me. 'You were +always good and true,' she said. 'But it was easy to be good and true, +if you did not love him.' I suppose she felt my heart throb suddenly +(she was lying in my arms), for she sprang up, and wound her arms round +my neck, bringing her eyes close to mine. _Did_ you love him? she asked. +'Tell me--tell me; it will do no harm now.' + +"But I drew myself out of her grasp, although she clung to me. I crossed +the room. She followed me. 'Tell me,' she whispered; 'I shall not mind +it. Indeed, I wish that you _did_ love him, that you do love him, for +then we would mourn for him together. I can be jealous of his love for +you, but not of yours for him, poor child. Tell me, Anne; tell me. I +long to know that you are miserable too.' She was leaning on me: in +truth, she was too weak to stand alone. She clung to me in the old +caressing way. 'Tell me,' she whispered. But I set my lips. Then, still +clinging to me, her eyes fixed on mine, she said that I could not love; +that I did not know what love meant; that I never would know, because my +nature was too calm, too measured. She spoke other deriding words, which +I will not repeat; and then--and then--I do not know how it came about, +but I pushed her from me, with her whispering voice and shining eyes, +and spoke out aloud (we were standing near that door) those words--those +words which Bagshot has repeated." + +"You said those words?" + +"I did." + +"Then you loved him?" + +"Yes." + +"Do you love him now?" + +As Dexter asked this question his eyes were fixed upon her with a +strange intentness. At first she met his gaze with the same absorbed +expression unconscious of self which her face had worn from the +beginning. Then a burning blush rose, spread itself over her forehead, +and dyed even her throat before it faded. "You have no right to ask +that," she said, returning to her narrative with haste, as though it +were a refuge. + +"After I had said those words, there was no more bitterness between us. +I think _then_ Helen forgave me. She asked me to come and live with her +in her desolation. I answered that perhaps later I could come, but not +then; and it was at this time that she said, not what Bagshot has +reported, 'You can not conquer hate,' but, 'You can not conquer fate.' +And she added: 'We two _must_ be together, Anne; we are bound by a tie +which can not be severed, even though we may wish it. You must bear with +me, and I must suffer you. It is our fate.' + +"Later, she grew more feverish; her strength was exhausted. But when at +last I rose to go, she went with me to the door. 'If he had lived,' she +said, 'one of us must have died.' Then her voice sank to a whisper. +'Changed or died,' she added. 'And as we are not the kind of women who +change, it would have ended in the wearing out of the life of one of +us--the one who loved the most. And people would have called it by some +other name, and that would have been the end. But now it is _he_ who has +been taken, and--oh! I can not bear it--I can not, can not bear it!'" +She paused; her eyes were full of tears. + +"Is that all?" said Dexter, coldly. + +"That is all." + +Then there was a silence. + +"Do you not think it important?" she asked at last, with a new timidity +in her voice. + +"It will make an impression; it will be your word against Bagshot's. The +point proved will be that instead of your having separated in anger, +with words of bitterness and jealousy, you separated in peace, as +friends. Her letter will be important, if it proves this." + +"It does. I have also another--a little note telling me of her husband's +safety, and dropped into a letter-box on her way to the train. And I +have the locket she gave me on the day of our last interview. She took +it from her own neck and clasped it round mine a moment before I left +her." + +"Did Bagshot know of the existence of this locket?" + +"She must have known it. For Helen said she always wore it; and Bagshot +dressed her daily." + +"Will you let me see it? And the two letters also, if they are here?" + +"They are up stairs. I will get them." + +What he wished to find out was whether she wore the locket. She came +back so soon that he said to himself she could not have had it on--there +had not been time to remove it; besides, as he held it in his hand it +was not warm. He read the two letters carefully. Then he took up the +locket again and examined it. It was a costly trinket, set with +diamonds; within was a miniature, a life-like picture of Helen's +husband. + +He looked at his rival silently. The man was in prison, charged with the +highest crime in the catalogue of crimes, and Dexter believed him +guilty. Yet it was, all the same, above all and through all, the face of +his rival still--of his triumphant, successful rival. + +He laid down the locket, rose, and went over to Anne. + +She was standing by the window, much dejected that he had not been more +impressed by the importance of that which she had revealed. She looked +up as he came near. + +"Anne," he said, "I have promised to take you to Multomah, and I will +keep my promise, if you insist. But have you considered that if you +correct and restate Bagshot's testimony in all the other points, you +will also be required to acknowledge the words of that confession?" + +"Yes, I know it," she murmured, turning toward the window again. + +"It can not but be horribly repugnant to you. Think how you will be +talked about, misunderstood. The newspapers will be black with your +name; it will go through the length and breadth of the land accompanied +with jests, and possibly with worse than jests. Anne, look up; listen to +what I am going to say. Marry me, Anne; marry me to-day; and go on the +witness stand--if go you must--as my wife." + +She gazed at him, her eyes widened with surprise. + +He took her hands, and began to plead. "It is a strange time in which to +woo you; but it is a strange ordeal which you have to go through. As my +wife, no one will dare to insult you or to misconstrue your evidence; +for your marriage will have given the lie beforehand to the worst +comment that can be made, namely, that you still love Heathcote, and +hope, if he is acquitted, to be his wife. It will be said that you loved +him once, but that this tragedy has changed the feeling, and you will be +called noble in coming forward of your own accord to acknowledge an +avowal which must be now painful to you in the extreme. The 'unknown +young girl' will be unknown no longer, when she comes forward as Gregory +Dexter's wife, with Gregory Dexter by her side to give her, in the eyes +of all men, his proud protection and respect." + +Anne's face responded to the warm earnestness of these words: she had +never felt herself so powerfully drawn toward him as at that moment. + +"As to love, Anne," he continued, his voice softening, "do not fancy +that I am feigning anything when I say that I do love you. The feeling +has grown up unconsciously. I shall love you very dearly when you are my +wife; you could command me, child, to almost any extent. As for your +feeling toward me--marry me, and I will _make_ you love me." He drew her +toward him. "I am not too old, too old for you, am I?" he said, gently. + +"It is not that," she answered, in deep distress. "Oh, why, why have you +said this?" + +"Well, because I am fond of you, I suppose," said Dexter, smiling. He +thought she was yielding. + +"You do not understand," she said, breaking from him. "You are generous +and kind, the best friend I have ever had, and it is for that reason, if +for no other, that I would never wrong you by marrying you, because--" + +"Because?" repeated Dexter. + +"Because I still love him." + +"Heathcote?" + +"Yes." + +His face changed sharply, yet he continued his urging. "Even if you do +love him, you would not marry him _now_." + +She did not answer. + +"You would not marry him with poor Helen's blood between you?" + +"It is not between us. He is innocent." + +"But if, after escaping conviction, it should yet be made clear to +you--perhaps to you alone--that he _was_ guilty, then would you marry +him?" + +"No. But the very greatness of his crime would make him in a certain way +sacred to me on account of the terrible remorse and anguish he would +have to endure." + +"A good way to punish criminals," said Dexter, bitterly. "To give them +your love and your life, and make them happy." + +"He would not be happy; he would be a wretched man through every moment +of his life, and die a wretched death. Whatever forgiveness might come +in another world, there would be none in this. Helen herself would wish +me to be his friend." + +"For the ultra-refinement of self-deception, give me a woman," said +Dexter, with even deepened bitterness. + +"But why do we waste time and words?" continued Anne. Then seeing him +take up his hat and turn toward the door, she ran to him and seized his +arm. "You are not going?" she cried, abandoning the subject with a +quick, burning anxiety which told more than all the rest. "Will you not +take me, as you promised, to Multomah?" + +"You still ask me to take you there?" + +"Yes, yes." + +"What do you think a man is made of?" he said, throwing down his hat, +but leaving her, and walking across to the window. + +Anne followed him. "Mr. Dexter," she said, standing behind him, +shrinkingly, so that he could not see her, "would you wish me to marry +you when I love--love _him_, as I said, in those words which you have +read, and--even more?" Her face was crimson, her voice broken, her hands +were clasped so tightly that the red marks of the pressure were visible. + +He turned and looked at her. Her face told even more than her words. All +his anger faded; it seemed to him then that he was the most unfortunate +man in the whole world. He took her in his arms, and kissed her sadly. +"I yield, child," he said. "Think of it no more. But, oh, Anne, Anne, if +it could but have been! Why does he have everything, and I nothing?" He +bowed his head over hers as it lay on his breast, and stood a moment; +then he released her, went to the door, and breathed the outside air in +silence. + +Closing it, he turned and came toward her again, and in quite another +tone said, "Are you ready? If you are, we will go to the city, and start +as soon as possible for Multomah." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + + "Then she rode forth, clothed on with chastity: + The deep air listen'd round her as she rode, + And all the low wind hardly breathed for fear. + The little wide-mouth'd heads upon the spout + Had cunning eyes to see: the barking cur + Made her cheeks flame: ... the blind walls + Were full of chinks and holes; and overhead + Fantastic gables, crowding, stared: but she + Not less thro' all bore up."--TENNYSON. + + +Gregory Dexter kept his word. He telegraphed to Miss Teller and to Miss +Teller's lawyers. He thought of everything, even recalling to Anne's +mind that she ought to write to her pupils and to the leader of the +choir, telling them that she expected to be absent from the city for +several days. "It would be best to resign all the places at once," he +said. "After this is over, they can easily come back to you if they wish +to do so." + +"It may make a difference, then, in my position?" said Anne. + +"It will make the difference that you will no longer be an unknown +personage," he answered, briefly. + +His dispatch had produced a profound sensation of wonder in the mind of +Miss Teller, and excitement in the minds of Miss Teller's lawyers. +Helen's aunt, so far, had not been able to form a conjecture as to the +identity of the mysterious young girl who had visited her niece, and +borne part in that remarkable conversation; Bagshot's description +brought no image before her mind. The acquaintance with Anne Douglas, +the school-girl at Madame Moreau's was such a short, unimportant, and +now distant episode in the brilliant, crowded life of her niece that +she had forgotten it, or at least never thought of it in this +connection. She had never heard Helen call Anne "Crystal." Her +imagination was fixed upon a girl of the lower class, beautiful, and +perhaps in her way even respectable--"one of those fancies which," she +acknowledged, "gentlemen sometimes have," the tears gathering in her +pale eyes as she spoke, so repugnant was the idea to her, although she +tried to accept it for Heathcote's sake. But how could Helen have known +a girl of this sort? Was this, too, one of those concealed trials which +wives of "men of the world" were obliged to endure? + +Neither did Isabel or Rachel think of Anne. To them she had been but a +school-girl, and they had not seen her or heard of her since that summer +at Caryl's; she had passed out of their remembrance as entirely as out +of their vision. Their idea of Helen's unknown visitor was similar to +that which occupied the mind of Miss Teller. And in their hearts they +had speculated upon the possibility of using money with such a person, +inducing her to come forward, name herself, and deny Bagshot's testimony +point-blank, or at least the dangerous portions of it. It could not +matter much to a girl of that sort what she had to say, provided she +were well paid for it. + +Miss Teller and the lawyers were waiting to receive Anne, when, late in +the evening, she arrived, accompanied by Mr. Dexter. The lawyers had to +give way first to Miss Teller. + +"Oh, Anne, dear child!" she cried, embracing the young girl warmly; "I +never dreamed it was you. And you have come all this way to help us! I +do not in the least understand how; but never mind--never mind. God +bless you!" She sobbed as she spoke. Then seeing Dexter, who was +standing at some distance, she called him to her, and blessed him also. +He received her greeting in silence. He had brought Anne, but he was in +no mood to appreciate benedictions. + +And now the lawyers stepped forward, arranging chairs at the table in a +suggestive way, opening papers, and consulting note-books. Anne looked +toward Dexter for directions; his eyes told her to seat herself in one +of the arm-chairs. He then withdrew to another part of the large room, +and Miss Teller, having vainly endeavored to beckon him to her side, so +that he might be within reach of her tearful whispers and +sympathy-seeking finger, resigned herself to excited listening and +silence. + +When Anne Douglas appeared on the witness-stand in the Heathcote murder +trial, a buzz of curiosity and surprise ran round the crowded +court-room. + +"A young girl!" was the first whisper. Then, "Pretty, rather," from the +women, and "Beautiful!" from the men. + +Isabel grasped Rachel's arm. "Is that Anne Douglas?" she said, in a +wonder-struck voice. "You remember her--the school-girl, Miss Vanhorn's +niece, who was at Caryl's that summer? Helen always liked her; and Ward +Heathcote used to talk to her now and then, although Mr. Dexter paid her +more real attention." + +"I remember her," said Rachel, coldly; "but I do not recollect the other +circumstances you mention." + +"It _is_ Anne," continued Isabel, too much absorbed to notice Rachel's +manner. "But older, and a thousand times handsomer. Rachel, that girl is +beautiful!" + +Anne's eyes were downcast. She feared to see Heathcote, and she did not +even know in what part of the room he was placed. She remained thus +while she was identified by Bagshot and Simpson, while she gave her +name, and went through the preliminary forms; when at last she did raise +her eyes, she looked only at the lawyers who addressed her. + +And now the ordeal opened. All, or almost all, of that which she had +told Gregory Dexter she was now required to repeat here, before this +crowded, listening court-room, this sea of faces, these watching +lawyers, the judge, and the dreaded jury. She had never been in a +court-room before. For one moment, when she first looked up, her courage +failed, and those who were watching her saw that it had failed. Then +toward whom did her frightened glance turn as if for aid? + +"Rachel, it is Gregory Dexter," said Isabel, again grasping her +companion's arm excitedly. + +"Pray, Isabel, be more quiet," answered Mrs. Bannert. But her own heart +throbbed quickly for a moment as she recognized the man who had told her +what he thought of her plainly in crude and plebeian Saxon phraseology. + +Anne was now speaking. Bagshot's testimony was read to her phrase by +phrase. Phrase by phrase she corroborated its truthfulness, but added +what had preceded and followed. In this manner all the overheard +sentences were repeated amid close attention, the interest increasing +with every word. + +But still it was evident that all were waiting; the attitude was plainly +one of alert expectancy. + +For what were they waiting? For the confession of love, to whose +"extraordinary words" the New York journals had called attention. + +At last it came. An old lawyer read the sentences aloud, slowly, +markedly; while the fall of a feather could have been heard in the +crowded room, and all eyes were fastened pitilessly upon the defenseless +girl; for she seemed at that moment utterly forsaken and defenseless. + +"'You say that I can not love,'" slowly read the lawyer, in his clear, +dry voice; "'that it is not in my nature. You know nothing about it. You +have thought me a child; I am a child no longer. I love Ward Heathcote, +your husband, with my whole heart. It was a delight to me simply to be +near him, to hear his voice. When he spoke my name, all my being went +toward him. I loved him--loved him--so deeply that everything else on +the face of the earth is as nothing to me compared with it. I would have +been gladly your servant, yes, _yours_, only to be in the same house +with him, though I were of no more account in his eyes than the dog on +the mat before his door.'" + +There was an instant of dead silence after these last passionate words +had fallen strangely from the old lawyer's thin lips. Then, "Are these +your words?" he asked. + +"They are," replied Anne. + +In that supreme moment her glance, vaguely turned away from the +questioner, met the direct gaze of the prisoner. Until now she had not +seen him. It was but an instant that their eyes held each other, but in +that instant the thronged court-room faded from her sight, and her face, +which, while the lawyer read, had been white and still as marble, was +now, though still colorless, so transfigured, so uplifted, so beautiful +in its pure sacrifice, that men leaned forward to see her more closely, +to print, as it were, that exquisite image upon their memories forever. + +Then the crowd took its breath again audibly; the sight was over. Anne +had sunk down and covered her face with her hands, and Miss Teller, much +agitated, was sending her a glass of water. + +Even the law is human sometimes, and there was now a short delay. + +So far, while the testimony of the new witness had been dramatic, and in +its interest absorbing, it had not proved much, or shaken to any great +extent the theory of the prosecution. On the contrary, more than ever +now were people inclined to believe that this lovely young girl was in +reality the wife's rival. Men whispered to each other, significantly, +"Heathcote knew what he was about. That is the most beautiful girl I +ever saw in my life; and nothing can alter _that_." + +"But now the tide turned. The examination proceeded, and the two +unfinished sentences which Bagshot had repeated were read. Anne +corrected them. + +"'You can not conquer hate,'" read the lawyer. + +"Mrs. Heathcote did not say that," began Anne; but her voice was still +tremulous, and she paused a moment in order to control it. + +"We wish to remark here," said one of Miss Teller's lawyers, "that while +the witness named Minerva Bagshot is possessed of an extraordinary +memory, and while she has also repeated what she overheard with a +correctness and honesty which are indeed remarkable in a person who +would deliberately open a door and _listen_, in this instance her +careful and conscientious ears will be found to have been mistaken." + +He was not allowed to say more. But as he had said all he wished to say, +he bore his enforced silence with equanimity. + +"Mrs. Heathcote wished me to come and live with her," continued Anne. +"She said, not what Mrs. Bagshot has reported, but, 'You can not conquer +_fate_.' And then she added, 'We two _must_ be together, Anne; we are +bound by a tie which can not be severed, even though we may wish it. You +must bear with me, and I must suffer you. It is our fate.'" + +This produced an effect; it directly contradicted the impression made by +Bagshot's phrase, namely, that the two women had parted in anger and +hate, the wife especially being in a mood of desperation. True, it was +but Anne's word against Bagshot's, and the strange tendency toward +believing the worst, which is often seen at criminal trials, inclined +most minds toward the elder woman's story. Still, the lawyers for the +defense were hopeful. + +The last sentence, or portion of a sentence, was now read: "'If he had +lived, one of us must have died.'" + +It had been decided that Anne should here give all that Helen had said, +without omission, as she had given it to Dexter. + +"Yes," she answered; "Mrs. Heathcote used those words. But it was in the +following connection. When we had said good-by, and I had promised to +come again after the funeral, she went with me toward the door. 'If he +had lived,' she said, 'one of us must have died.' Then she paused an +instant, and her voice sank. 'Changed or died,' she added. 'And as we +are not the kind of women who change, it would have ended in the wearing +out of the life of one of us--the one who loved the most. And people +would have called it by some other name, and that would have been the +end. But now it is _he_ who has been taken, and--oh! I can not bear +it--I can not, can not bear it!'" + +She repeated these words of Helen's with such realistic power that tears +came to many eyes. Rachel Bannert for the first time veiled her face. +All the feeling in her, such as it was, was concentrated upon Heathcote, +and Helen's bitter cry of grief, repeated by Anne, had been the secret +cry of her own heart every minute since danger first menaced him. + +Anne's words had produced a sensation; still, they were but her +unsupported words. + +But now something else was brought forward; proof which, so far as it +went, at least, was tangible. Anne was testifying that, before she went +away, Helen had taken from her own neck a locket and given it to her as +a token of renewed affection; and the locket was produced. The defense +would prove by Bagshot herself that this locket on its chain was round +her mistress's neck on the morning of that day, and Mrs. Heathcote must +therefore have removed it herself and given it to the present witness, +since the latter could hardly have taken it from her by force without +being overheard, the door being so very conveniently ajar. + +And now the next proof was produced, the hurried note written to Anne by +Helen, after the tidings of her husband's safety had been received. +After the writing had been identified as Helen's, the note was read. + + * * * * * + +"DEAR ANNE,--Ward is safe. It was a mistake. I have just received a +dispatch. He is wounded, but not dangerously, and I write this on my way +to the train, for I am going to him; that is, if I can get through. All +is different now. I trust you. But I love him too much not to try and +make him love _me_ the most, if I possibly can. + +HELEN." + + * * * * * + +This was evidence clear and decided. It was no longer Anne's word, but +Helen's own. Whatever else the listeners continued to believe, they must +give up the idea that the wife and this young girl had parted in anger +and hate; for if the locket as proof could be evaded, the note could +not. + +But this was not all. An excitement more marked than any save that +produced when Anne acknowledged the confession arose in the court-room +when the lawyers for the defense announced that they would now bring +forward a second letter--a letter written by Mrs. Heathcote to the +witness in the inn at Timloesville on the evening of her death--her last +letter, what might be called her last utterance on earth. It had been +shown that Mrs. Heathcote was seen writing; it would be proved that a +letter was given to a colored lad employed in the hotel soon after +Captain Heathcote left the room, and that this lad ran across the street +to the post-office and dropped it into the mail-box. Not being able to +read, he had not made out the address. + +When the handwriting of this letter also had been identified, it was, +amid eager attention, read aloud. The feeling was as if the dead wife +herself were speaking to them from the grave. + + * * * * * + +"TIMLOESVILLE, _June 10, half past 8_ P.M. + +"DEAR ANNE,--I sent you a few lines from New York, written on my way to +the train, but now that I have time, I feel that something more is due +to you. I found Ward at a little hospital, his right arm injured, but +not seriously. He will not be able to use it readily for some time; it +is in a sling. But he is so much better that they have allowed us to +start homeward. We are travelling slowly--more, however, on my account +than his. I long to have the journey over. + +"Dear Anne, I have thought over all our conversation--all that you told +me, all that I replied. I am so inexpressibly happy to-night, as I sit +here writing, that I can and will do you justice, and tell all the +truth--the part that I have hitherto withheld. And that is, Anne, that +your influence over him _was_ for good, and that your pain and effort +have not been thrown away. You asked him to bear his part in life +bravely, and he has borne it; you asked him to come back to me, and he +did come back. If you were any other woman on earth, I would never +confess this--confess that I owe to _you_ my happiness of last winter, +when he changed, even in his letters, to greater kindness; confess that +it was your influence which made him, when he came home later, so much +more watchful and gentle in his care of, his manner toward, me. I +noticed the change on the first instant, the first letter, and it made +my heart bound. If it had been possible, I should have gone to him then, +but it was not. He had rejoined his regiment, and I could only watch +for his letters like a girl of sixteen. When he did come home, I counted +every hour of that short visit as so much happiness greater than I had +ever known before. For I had always loved him, and _now_ he loved me. + +"Do not contradict me; he does love me. At least he is so dear to me, +and so kind and tender, that I do not know whether he does or not, but +am content. You are a better, nobler woman; yet _I_ have the happiness. + +"He does not know that I have seen you, and I shall never tell him. He +does not know that I know what an effort he has made. But every kind act +and tone goes to my heart. For I _did_ deceive him, Anne; and if it had +not been for that deception, probably he would not now be my husband--he +would be free. + +"Yet good has come out of evil this time, perhaps on account of my deep +love. No wife was ever so thankfully happy as I am to-night, and on my +knees I have thanked my Creator for giving me that which makes my life +one long joy. + +"He has come in, and is sitting opposite, reading. He does not know to +whom I am writing--does not dream what I am saying. And he must never +know: I can not rise to _that_. + +"No, Anne, we must not meet, at least for the present. It is better so, +and you yourself will feel that it is. But when I reach home I will +write again, and _then_ you will answer. + +"Always, with warm love, your friend, + +HELEN." + + * * * * * + +During the reading of this letter, the prisoner for the first time sat +with his head bowed, his face shaded by his hand. Miss Teller's sobs +could be heard. Anne, too, broke down, and wept silently. + +"When I reach home I will write again, and _then_ you will answer." +Helen _had_ reached home, and Anne--had answered. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + + "The cold neutrality of an impartial judge."--BURKE. + + +The jury were out. + +They had been out four hours, but the crowd in the closely packed +court-room still kept its ranks unbroken, and even seemed to grow more +dense; for if, here and there, one person went away, two from the +waiting throng of those in the halls and about the doors immediately +pressed their way in to take the vacant place. The long warm summer day +was drawing toward its close. The tired people fanned themselves, but +would not go, because it was rumored that a decision was near. + +Outside, the fair green farming country, which came up almost to the +doors, stretched away peacefully in the twilight, shading into the grays +of evening down the valley, and at the bases of the hills. The fields +were falling asleep; eight o'clock sounding from a distant church bell +seemed like a curfew and good-night. + +If one had had time to think of it, the picture of the crowded +court-room, rising in that peaceful landscape, was a strange one. But no +one had time to think of it. Lights had been brought in. The summer +beetles, attracted by them, flew in through the open windows, knocked +themselves against the wall, fell to the floor, and then slowly took +wing again to repeat the process. With the coming of the lights the +crowd stirred a little, looked about, and then settled itself anew. The +prisoner's chances were canvassed again, and for the hundredth time. The +testimony of Anne Douglas had destroyed the theory which had seemed to +fill out so well the missing parts of the story; it had proved that the +supposed rival was a friend of the wife's, and that the wife loved her; +it had proved that Mrs. Heathcote was devoted to her husband, and happy +with him, up to the last hour of her life. This was much. But the +circumstantial evidence regarding the movements of the prisoner at +Timloesville remained unchanged; he was still confronted by the fact of +his having been seen on that outside stairway, by the other significant +details, and by the print of that left hand. + +During this evening waiting, the city papers had come, were brought in, +and read. One of them contained some paragraphs upon a point which, in +the rapid succession of events that followed each other in the case, had +been partially overlooked--a point which the country readers cast aside +as unimportant, but which wakened in the minds of the city people +present the remembrance that they had needed the admonition. + +"But if this conversation (now given in full) was remarkable," wrote the +editor far away in New York, "it should not be forgotten that the +circumstances were remarkable as well. While reading it one should keep +clearly in mind the fact that the subject of it, namely, Captain +Heathcote, was, in the belief of both the speakers, dead. Had it not +been for this belief of theirs, these words would never have been +uttered. He was gone from earth forever--killed suddenly in battle. Such +a death brings the deepest feelings of the heart to the surface. Such a +death wrings out avowals which otherwise would never be made. Words can +be spoken over a coffin--where all is ended--which could never be spoken +elsewhere. Death brought together these two women, who seem to have +loved each other through and in spite of all. One has gone. And now the +menacing shadow of a far worse death has forced the other to come +forward, and go through a cruel ordeal, an ordeal which was, however, +turned into a triumph by the instant admiration which all rightly minded +persons gave to the pure, noble bravery which thus saved a life. For +although the verdict has not yet been given, the general opinion is that +this new testimony turned the scale, and that the accused man will be +acquitted." + +But this prophecy was not fulfilled. + +Five hours of waiting. Six hours. And now there came a stir. The jury +were returning; they had entered; they were in their places. Rachel +Bannert bent her face behind her open fan, that people should not see +how white it was. Miss Teller involuntarily rose. But as many had also +risen in the crowded room, which was not brightly lighted save round the +lawyers' tables, they passed unnoticed. The accused looked straight into +the faces of the jurors. He was quite calm; this part seemed far less +trying to him than that which had gone before. + +And then it was told: they had neither convicted nor acquitted him. They +had disagreed. + +Anne Douglas was not present. She was sitting alone in an unlighted +house on the other side of the little country square. Some one walking +up and down there, under the maples, had noticed, or rather divined, a +figure at the open window behind the muslin curtains of the dark room; +he knew that this figure was looking at the lights from the court-room +opposite, visible through the trees. + +This man under the maples had no more intention of losing the final +moment than the most persistent countryman there. But being in the habit +of using his money, now that he had it, rather than himself, he had +posted two sentinels, sharp-eyed boys whom he had himself selected, one +in an upper window of the court-room on the sill, the other outside on +the sloping roof of a one-story building which touched it. The boy in +the window was to keep watch; the boy on the roof was to drop to the +ground at the first signal from the sill, and run. By means of this +human telegraph, its designer under the maples intended to reach the +window himself, through the little house whose door stood open (its +mistress having already been paid for the right of way), in time to hear +and see the whole. This intention was carried out--as his intentions +generally were. The instant the verdict, or rather the want of verdict, +was announced, he left the window, hastened down through the little +house, and crossed the square. The people would be slow in leaving the +court-room, the stairway was narrow, the crowd dense; the square was +empty as he passed through it, went up the steps of the house occupied +by Miss Teller, crossed the balcony, and stopped at the open window. + +"Anne?" he said. + +A figure stirred within. + +"They have disagreed. The case will now go over to the November term, +when there will be a new trial." + +He could see that she covered her face with her hands. But she did not +speak. + +"It was your testimony that turned the scale," he added. + +After a moment, as she still remained silent, "I am going away +to-night," he went on; "that is, unless there is something I can do for +you. Will you tell me your plans?" + +"Yes, always," she answered, speaking low from the darkness. "Everything +concerning me you may always know, if you care to know. But so far I +have no plan." + +"I leave you with Miss Teller; that is safety. Miss Teller claims the +privilege now of having you with her always." + +"I shall not stay long." + +"You will write to me?" + +"Yes." + +People were now entering the square from the other side. The window-sill +was between them; he took her hands, drew her forward from the shadow, +and looked at her in the dim light from the street lamp. + +"It is my last look, Anne," he said, sadly. + +"It need not be." + +"Yes; you have chosen. You are sure that there is nothing more that I +can do?" + +"There is one thing." + +"What is it?" + +"Believe him innocent. Believe it, not for my sake, but for your own." + +"If I try, it will be for yours. Good-by." + +He left her, and an hour later was on his way back to his post at the +capital of his State. He was needed there; an accumulation of +responsibilities awaited him. For that State owed the excellence of its +war record, its finely equipped regiments, well-supplied hospitals, and +prompt efficiency in all departments of public business throughout those +four years, principally to the brain and force of one man--Gregory +Dexter. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + + "I have no other than a woman's reason: + I think him so because I think him so." + + --SHAKSPEARE. + + +Summer was at its height. Multomah had returned to its rural quietude; +the farmers were busy afield, the court-room was closed, the crowd gone. +The interest in the Heathcote case, and the interest in Ward Heathcote, +remained as great as ever in the small circle of which he and Helen had +formed part; but nothing more could happen until November, and as, in +the mean time, the summer was before them, they had found a diversion of +thought in discovering an island off the coast of Maine, and betaking +themselves thither, leaving to mistaken followers the belief that +Caryl's still remained an exclusive and fashionable resort. Beyond this +small circle, the attention of the nation at large was absorbed in a far +greater story--the story of the Seven Days round Richmond. + +Word had come to Anne from the northern island that the little boy, +whose failing health had for so many months engrossed all Miss Lois's +time and care, had closed his tired eyes upon this world's pain forever. +He would no longer need the little crutch, which they had both grieved +to think must always be his support; and Miss Lois coming home to the +silent church-house after the burial in the little cemetery on the +height, and seeing it there in its corner, had burst into bitter tears. +For the child, in his helplessness and suffering, had grown into her +very heart. But now Anne needed her--that other child whom she had loved +so long and so well. And so, after that one fit of weeping, she covered +her grief from sight, put a weight of silent remembrance upon it, and +with much energy journeyed southward. + +For Anne, Miss Lois, and Miss Teller were now linked together by a +purpose, a feminine purpose, founded upon faith only, and with outlines +vague, yet one none the less to be carried out: to go to Timloesville or +its neighborhood, and search for the murderer there. + +Miss Teller, who had found occupation in various small schemes for +additions to Heathcote's comfort during the summer, rose to excitement +when the new idea was presented to her. + +"We must have advice about it," she began; "we must consult--" Then seeing +in the young face, upon whose expressions she had already come to rely, +a non-agreement, she paused. + +"The best skill of detectives has already been used," said Anne; "they +followed a track, worked from a beginning. We should follow no track, +and accept no beginning, save the immovable certainty that he was +innocent." She was silent a moment; then with a sigh which was a sad, +yet not a hopeless, one, "Dear Miss Teller," she added, "it is said that +women divine a truth sometimes by intuition, and against all +probability. It is to this instinct--if such there be--that we must +trust now." + +Miss Teller studied these suggestions with respect; but they seemed +large and indistinct. In spite of herself her mind reverted to certain +articles of furniture which she had looked at the day before, furniture +which was to make his narrow room more comfortable. But she caught +herself in these wanderings, brought back her straying thoughts +promptly, and fastened them to the main subject with a question--like a +pin. + +"But how could I go to Timloesville at present, when I have so much +planned out to do here? Oh, Anne, I could not leave him here, shut up in +that dreary place." + +"It seems to me safer that you should not go," replied the girl; "it +might be noticed, especially as it is known that you took this house for +the summer. But I could go. And there is Miss Lois. She is free now, and +the church-house must be very lonely." The tears sprang again as she +thought of André, the last of the little black-eyed children who had +been so dear. + +They talked over the plan. No man being there to weigh it with a cooler +masculine judgment, it seemed to them a richly promising one. Anne was +imaginative, and Miss Teller reflected Anne. They both felt, however, +that its accomplishment depended upon Miss Lois. But Anne's confidence +in Miss Lois was great. + +"I know of no one for whom I have a deeper respect than for that +remarkable woman," said Miss Teller, reverentially. "It will be a great +gratification to see her." + +"But it would be best, I think, that she should not come here," replied +Anne. "I should bid you good-by, and go away; every one would see me go. +Then in New York I could meet Miss Lois, and we could go together to +Timloesville by another route. At Timloesville nobody would know Miss +Lois, and I should keep myself in a measure concealed; there were only a +few persons from Timloesville at the trial, and I think I could evade +them." + +"I should have liked much to meet Miss Hinsdale," said Miss Margaretta, +in a tone of regret. "But you know best." + +"Oh, no, no," said Anne, letting her arms fall in sudden despondency. "I +sometimes think that I know nothing, and worse than nothing! Moments +come when I would give years of my life for one hour, only one, of +trusting reliance upon some one wiser, stronger, than I--who would tell +me what I ought to do." + +But this cry of the young heart (brave, but yet so young) distressed +Miss Margaretta. If the pilot should lose courage, what would become of +the passengers? She felt herself looking into chaos. + +Anne saw this. And controlled herself again. + +"When should you start?" said the elder lady, relieved, and bringing +forward a date. Miss Margaretta always found great support in dates. + +"I can not tell yet. We must first hear from Miss Lois." + +"I will write to her myself," said Miss Margaretta, putting on her +spectacles and setting to work at once. It was a relief to be engaged +upon something tangible. + +And write she did. The pages she sent to Miss Lois, and the pages with +which Miss Lois replied were many, eloquent, and underlined. Before the +correspondence was ended they had scientifically discovered, convicted, +and hanged the murderer, and religiously buried him. + +Miss Lois was the most devoted partisan the accused man had gained. She +was pleader, audience, public opinion, detective, judge, and final +clergyman, in one. She had never seen Heathcote. That made no +difference. She was sure he was a concentration of virtue, and the +victim not of circumstances (that was far too mild), but of a "plot" +(she wanted to say "popish," but was restrained by her regard for Père +Michaux). + +Miss Teller saw Heathcote daily. So far, she had not felt it necessary +that Anne should accompany her. But shortly before the time fixed for +the young girl's departure she was seized with the idea that it was +Anne's duty to see him once. For perhaps he could tell her something +which would be of use at Timloesville. + +"I would rather not; it is not necessary," replied Anne. "You can tell +me." + +"You should not think of yourself; in such cases ourselves are nothing," +said Miss Teller. "The sheriff and the persons in charge under him are +possessed of excellent dispositions, as I have had occasion to prove; no +one need know of your visit, and I should of course accompany you." + +Anne heard her in silence. She was asking herself whether this gentle +lady had lost all memory of her own youth, and whether that youth had +held no feelings which would make her comprehend the depth of that which +she was asking now. + +But Miss Teller was not thinking of her youth, or of herself, or of +Anne. She had but one thought, one motive--Helen's husband, and how to +save him; all the rest seemed to her unimportant. She had in fact +forgotten it. "I do not see how you can hesitate," she said, the tears +suffusing her light eyes, "when it is for our dear Helen's sake." + +"Yes," replied Anne; "but Helen is dead. How can we know--how can we be +sure--what she would wish?" She seemed to be speaking to herself. She +rose, walked to the window, and stood there looking out. + +"She would wish to have him saved, would she not?" answered Miss Teller. +"I consider it quite necessary that you should see him before you go. +For you could not depend upon my report of what he says. It has, I am +sorry to say, been represented to me more than once that I have a +tendency to forget what has been variously mentioned as the knob, the +point, the gist of a thing." + +Anne did not turn. + +Miss Teller noted this obstinacy with surprise. + +"It is mysterious to me that after the great ordeal of that trial, Anne, +you should demur over such a simple thing as this," she said, gently. + +But to Anne the sea of faces in the court-room seemed now less difficult +than that quiet cell with its one occupant. Then she asked herself +whether this were not an unworthy feeling, a weak one? One to be put +down at once, and with a strong hand. She yielded. The visit was +appointed for the next day. + +The county jail with its stone hall; a locked door. They were entering; +the jailer retired. + +The prisoner rose to receive them; he knew that they were coming, and +was prepared. Miss Teller kissed him; he brought forward his two chairs. +Then turning to Anne, he said, "It is kind of you to come;" and for a +moment they looked at each other. + +It was as if they had met in another world, in a far gray land beyond +all human error and human dread. Anne felt this suddenly; if not like a +chill, it was like the touch of an all-enveloping sadness, which would +not pass away. Her fear left her; it seemed to her then that it would +never come back. + +As she looked at him she saw that he was greatly changed; her one glance +in the court-room had not told her how greatly. Part of it was due +doubtless to the effects of his wound, to the unaccustomed confinement +in the heats of a lowland summer; his face, though still bronzed, was +thin, his clothes hung loosely from his broad shoulders. But the marked +alteration was in his expression. This was so widely different from +that of the brown-eyed lounger of Caryl's, that it seemed another man +who was standing there, and not the same. Heathcote's eyes were still +brown; but their look was so changed that Gregory Dexter would never +have occasion to find fault with it again. His half-indolent +carelessness had given place to a stern reticence; his indifference, to +a measured self-control. And Anne knew, as though a prophetic vision +were passing, that he would carry that changed face always, to his +life's end. + +Miss Teller had related to him their plan, their womans' plan. He was +strongly, unyieldingly, opposed to it. Miss Teller came home every day, +won over to his view, and then as regularly changed her mind, in talking +with Anne, and went back--to be converted over again. But he knew that +Anne had persisted. He knew that he was now expected to search his +memory, and see if he could not find there something new. Miss Teller, +with a touching eagerness to be of use and business-like, arranged pen, +paper, and ink upon the table, and sat down to take notes. She was still +a majestic personage, in spite of her grief and anxiety; her height, +profile, and flowing draperies were as imposing as ever. But in other +ways she had grown suddenly old; her light complexion was now +over-spread with a net-work of fine small wrinkles, the last faint +blonde of her hair was silvered, and in her cheeks and about her mouth +there was a pathetic alteration, the final predominance of old age, and +its ineffective helplessness over her own mild personality. + +But while they waited, he found that he could not speak. When he saw +them sitting there in their mourning garb for Helen, when he felt that +Anne too was within the circle of this grief and danger and pain, Anne, +in all her pure fair youth and trust and courage, something rose in his +throat and stopped utterance. All the past and his own part in it +unrolled itself before him like a judgment; all the present, and her +brave effort for him; the future, near and dark. For Heathcote, like +Dexter, believed that the chances were adverse; and even should he +escape conviction, he believed that the cloud upon him would never be +cleared away entirely, but that it would rest like a pall over the +remainder of his life. At that moment, in his suffering, he felt that +uncleared acquittal, conviction, the worst that could come to him, he +could bear without a murmur were it only possible to separate Anne--Anne +both in the past and present--from his own dark lot. He rose suddenly +from the bench where he had seated himself, turned his back to them, +went to his little grated window, and stood there looking out. + +Miss Teller followed him, and laid her hand on his shoulder. "Dear +Ward," she said, "I do not wonder that you are overcome." And she took +out her handkerchief. + +He mastered himself and came back to the table. Miss Teller, who, having +once begun, was unable to stop so quickly, remained where she was. Anne, +to break the painful pause, began to ask her written questions from the +slip of paper she had brought. + +"Can you recall anything concerning the man who came by and spoke to you +while you were bathing?" she said, looking at him gravely. + +"No. I could not see him; it was very dark." + +"What did he say?" + +"He asked if the water was cold." + +"How did he say it?" + +"Simply, 'Is the water cold?'" + +"Was there any foreign accent or tone, any peculiarity of pronunciation +or trace of dialect, no matter how slight, in his voice or utterance?" + +"I do not recall any. Stay, he may have given something of the sound of +g to the word--said 'gold,' instead of 'cold.' But the variation was +scarcely noticeable. Country people talk in all sorts of ways." + +Miss Teller hurriedly returned to her chair, after wiping her eyes, +wrote down "gold" and "cold" in large letters on her sheet of paper, and +surveyed them critically. + +"Is there nothing else you can think of?" pursued Anne. + +"No. Why do you dwell upon him?" + +"Because he is the man." + +"Oh, Anne, is he?--is he?" cried Miss Teller, with as much excitement as +though Anne had proved it. + +"There is no probability. They have not even been able to find him," +said Heathcote. + +"Of course it is only my feeling," said the girl. + +"But what _Anne_ feels is no child's play," commented Miss Teller. + +This remark, made in nervousness and without much meaning, seemed to +touch Heathcote; he turned to the window again. + +"Will you please describe to me exactly what you did from the time you +left the inn to take the first walk until you came back after the +river-bath?" continued Anne. + +He repeated his account of the evening's events as he had first given +it, with hardly the variation of a word. + +"Are you sure that you took two towels? Might it not be possible that +you took only one? For then the second, found at the end of the meadow +trail, might have been taken by the murderer." + +"No; I took two. I remember it because I put first one in my pocket, and +then, with some difficulty, the other, and I spoke to Helen laughingly +about my left-handed awkwardness." It was the first time he had spoken +his wife's name, and his voice was very grave and sweet as he pronounced +it. + +Poor Miss Teller broke down again. And Anne began to see her little +paper of questions through a blur. But the look of Heathcote's face +saved her. Why should he have anything more to bear? She went on quickly +with her inquiry. + +"Was there much money in the purse?" + +"I think not. She gave me almost all she had brought with her as soon as +we met." + +"Is it a large river?" + +"Rather deep; in breadth only a mill-stream." + +Then there was a silence. It seemed as if they all felt how little there +was to work with, to hope for. + +"Will you let Miss Teller draw on a sheet of paper the outline of your +left hand?" continued Anne. + +He obeyed without comment. + +"Now please place your hand in this position, and let her draw the +finger-tips." As she spoke, she extended her own left hand, with the +finger-tips touching the table, as if she was going to grasp something +which lay underneath. + +But Heathcote drew back. A flush rose in his cheeks. "I will have +nothing to do with it," he said. + +"Oh, Ward, when Anne asks you?" said Miss Teller, in distress. + +"_I_ do not wish her to go to Timloesville," he said, with emphasis; "I +have been utterly against it from the first. It is a plan made without +reason, and directly against my feelings, my wishes, and my consent. It +is unnecessary. It will be useless. And, worse than this, it may bring +her into great trouble. Send as many detectives as you please, but do +not send her. It is the misfortune of your position and hers that at +such a moment you have no one to control you, no man, I mean, to whose +better judgment you would defer. My wishes are nothing to you; you +override them. You are, in fact, taking advantage of my helplessness." + +He spoke to Miss Teller. But Anne, flushing a little at his tone, +answered him. + +"I can not explain the hope that is in me," she said; "but such a hope I +certainly have. I will not be imprudent; Miss Lois shall do everything; +I will be very guarded. If we are not suspected (and we shall not be; +women are clever in such things), where is the danger? It will be +but--but spending a few weeks in the country." She ended hesitatingly, +ineffectively. Then, "To sit still and do nothing, to wait--is +unendurable!" broke from her in a changed tone. "It is useless to oppose +me. I shall go." + +Heathcote did not reply. + +"No one is to know of it, dear Ward, save ourselves and Miss Hinsdale," +said Miss Teller, pleadingly. + +"And Mr. Dexter," added Anne. + +Heathcote now looked at her. "Dexter has done more for me than I could +have expected," he said. "I never knew him well; I fancied, too, that he +did not like me." + +[Illustration: "HE OBEYED WITHOUT COMMENT."] + +"Oh, there you are quite mistaken, Ward. He is your most devoted +friend," said Miss Teller. + +But a change in Anne's face had struck Heathcote. "He thinks me guilty," +he said. + +"Never! never!" cried Miss Teller. "Tell him no, Anne. Tell him no." + +But Anne could not. "He said--" she began; then remembering that +Dexter's words, "If I try, it will be for yours," were hardly a promise, +she stopped. + +"It is of small consequence. Those who could believe me guilty may +continue to believe it," said Heathcote. But his face showed that he +felt the sting. + +He had never cared to be liked by all, or even by many; but when the +blow fell it had been an overwhelming surprise to him that any one, even +the dullest farm laborer, should suppose it possible that he, Ward +Heathcote, could be guilty of such a deed. + +It was the lesson which careless men, such as he had been, learn +sometimes if brought face to face with the direct homely judgment of the +plain people of the land. + +"Oh, Anne, how can you have him for your friend? And I, who trusted him +so!" said Miss Teller, with indignant grief. + +"As Mr. Heathcote has said, it is of small consequence," answered Anne, +steadily. "Mr. Dexter brought me here, in spite of his--his feeling, and +that should be more to his credit, I think, than as though he had +been--one of us. And now, Miss Teller, if there is nothing more to +learn, I should like to go." + +She rose. Heathcote made a motion as if to detain her, then his hand +fell, and he rose also. + +"I suppose we can stay until Jason Longworthy knocks?" said Miss +Margaretta, hesitatingly. + +"I would rather go now, please," said Anne. + +For a slow tremor was taking possession of her; the country prison, +which had not before had a dangerous look, seemed now to be growing dark +and cruel; the iron-barred window was like a menace. It seemed to say +that they might talk; but that the prisoner was theirs. + +Miss Margaretta rose, disappointed but obedient; she bade Heathcote +good-by, and said that she would come again on the morrow. + +Then he stepped forward. "I shall not see you again," he said to Anne, +holding out his hand. He had not offered to take her hand before. + +She gave him hers, and he held it for a moment. No word was spoken; it +was a mute farewell. Then she passed out, followed by Miss Teller, and +the door was closed behind them. + +"Why, you had twenty minutes more," said Jason Longworthy, the deputy, +keeping watch in the hall outside. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + + "The fisherman, unassisted by destiny, could not catch a fish in + the Tigris; and the fish, without fate, could not have died upon + dry land."--SAADI. + + +Anne met Miss Lois in New York. Miss Lois had never been in New York +before; but it would take more than New York to confuse Miss Lois. They +remained in the city for several days in order to rest and arrange their +plans. There was still much to explain which the letters, voluminous as +they had been, had not made entirely clear. + +But first they spoke of the child. It was Miss Lois at length who turned +resolutely from the subject, and took up the tangled coil which awaited +her. "Begin at the beginning and tell every word," she said, sitting +erect in her chair, her arms folded with tight compactness. If Miss Lois +could talk, she could also listen. In the present case she listened +comprehensively, sharply, and understandingly. When all was told--"How +different it is from the old days when we believed that you and Rast +would live always with us on the island, and that that would be the +whole," she said, with a long, sad retrospective sigh. Then dismissing +the past, "But we must do in this disappointing world what is set before +us," she added, sighing again, but this time in a preparatory way. Anew +she surveyed Anne. "You are much changed, child," she said. Something +of her old spirit returned to her. "I wish those fort ladies could see +you _now_!" she remarked, taking off her spectacles and wiping them with +a combative air. + +Possessed of Anne's narrative, she now began to arrange their plans in +accordance with it, and to fit what she considered the necessities of +the situation. As a stand-point she prepared a history, which, in its +completeness, would have satisfied even herself as third person, +forgetting that the mental organizations of the Timloesville people were +probably not so well developed in the direction of a conscientious and +public-spirited inquiry into the affairs of their neighbors as were +those of the meritorious New England community where she had spent her +youth. In this history they were to be aunt and niece, of the same name, +which, after long cogitation, she decided should be Young, because it +had "a plain, respectable sound." She herself was to be a widow (could +it have been possible that, for once in her life, she wished to know, +even if but reminiscently, how the married state would feel?), and Anne +was to be her husband's niece. "Which will account for the lack of +resemblance," she said, fitting all the parts of her plan together like +those of a puzzle. She had even constructed an elaborate legend +concerning said husband, and its items she enumerated with relish. His +name, it appeared, had been Asher, and he had been something of a trial +to her, although at the last he had experienced religion, and died +thoroughly saved. His brother Eleazer, Anne's father, had been a very +different person, a sort of New England David. He had taught in an +academy, studied for the ministry, and died of "a galloping +consumption"--a consolation to all his friends. Miss Lois could describe +in detail both of these death-beds, and repeat the inscriptions on the +two tombstones. Her own name was Deborah, and Anne's was Ruth. On the +second day she evolved the additional item that Ruth was "worn out +keeping the accounts of an Asylum for the Aged, in Washington--which is +the farthest thing I can think of from teaching children in New +York--and I have brought you into the country for your health." + +Anne was dismayed. "I shall certainly make some mistake in all this," +she said. + +"Not if you pay attention. And you can always say your head aches if you +don't want to talk. I am not sure but that you had better be threatened +with something serious," added Miss Lois, surveying her companion +consideringly. "It would have to be connected with the mind, because, +unfortunately, you always look the picture of health." + +"Oh, please let me be myself," pleaded Anne. + +"Never in the world," replied Miss Lois. "Ourselves? No indeed. We've +got to _be_ conundrums as well as guess them, Ruth Young." + +They arrived at their destination, not by the train, but in the little +country stage which came from the south. The witnesses from Timloesville +present at the trial had been persons connected with the hotel. In order +that Anne should not come under their observation, they took lodgings at +a farm-house at some distance from the village, and on the opposite side +of the valley. Anne was not to enter the village; but of the +meadow-paths and woods she would have free range, as the inhabitants of +Timloesville, like most country people, had not a high opinion of +pedestrian exercise. Anne was not to enter the town at all; but Miss +Lois was to examine "its every inch." + +The first day passed safely, and the second and third. Anne was now +sufficiently accustomed to her new name not to start when she was +addressed, and sufficiently instructed in her "headaches" not to +repudiate them when inquiries were made; Miss Lois announced, therefore, +that the search could begin. She classified the probabilities under five +heads. + +First. The man must be left-handed. + +Second. He must say "gold" for "cold." + +Third. As Timloesville was a secluded village to which few strangers +came, and as it had been expressly stated at the trial that no strangers +were noticed in its vicinity either before or after the murder, the deed +had evidently been committed, not as the prosecution mole-blindedly +averred, by the one stranger who _was_ there, but by no stranger at +all--by a resident in the village itself or its neighborhood. + +Fourth. As the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Heathcote was unexpected, the +crime must have been one of impulse: there had not been time for a plan. + +Fifth. The motive was robbery: the murder was probably a second thought, +occasioned, perhaps, by Helen's stirring. + +Miss Lois did not waste time. Within a few days she was widely known in +Timloesville--"the widow Young, from Washington, staying at Farmer +Blackwell's, with her niece, who is out of health, poor thing, and her +aunt so anxious about her." The widow was very affable, very talkative; +she was considered an almost excitingly agreeable person. But it was +strange that she should not have heard of their event, their own +particular and now celebrated crime. Mrs. Strain, wife of J. Strain, +Esq., felt that this ignorance was lamentable. She therefore proposed to +the widow that she should in person go to the Timloe Hotel, and see with +her own eyes "the very spot." + +"The effect, Mrs. Young, is curdling," she declared. + +Mrs. Young was willing to be curdled, if Mrs. Strain would support her +in the experience. On the next afternoon, therefore, they went to the +Timloe Hotel, and were shown over "the very floor" which had been +pressed by the footsteps of the murderer, his beautiful wife, and her +highly respectable and observing (one might almost say _providentially_ +observing) maid. The landlord himself, Mr. Graub, did not disdain to +accompany them. Mr. Graub had attended the trial in person, and he had +hardly ceased since to admire himself for his own perspicuous cleverness +in owning the house where such a very distinguished crime had been +committed. There might be localities where a like deed would have +injured the patronage of an inn; but the neighborhood of Timloesville +was not one of them. The people slowly took in and appreciated their +event, as an anaconda is said slowly to take in and appreciate his +dinner; they digested it at their leisure. Farmers coming in to town on +Saturdays, instead of bringing luncheon in a tin pail, as usual, went +to the expense of dining at the hotel, with their wives and daughters, +in order to see the room, the blind, and the outside stairway. Mr. +Graub, in this position of affairs, was willing to repeat the tale, even +to a non-diner. For Mrs. Young was a stranger from Washington, and who +knew but that Washington itself might be stirred to a dining interest in +the scene of the tragedy, especially as the second trial was still to +come? + +The impression on the blind was displayed; it was very faint, but +clearly that of a left hand. + +"And here is the cloth that covered the bureau," continued the landlord, +taking it from a paper and spreading it on the old-fashioned chest of +drawers. "It is not the identical cloth, for that was required at the +trial, together with a fac-simile of the blind; but I can assure you +that this one is just like the original, blue-bordered and fringed +precisely the same, and we traced the spots on it exactly similar before +we let the other go. For we knew that folks would naturally be +interested in such a memento." + +"It is indeed deeply absorbing," said Mrs. Young. "I wonder, now, what +the size of that hand might be? Not yours, Mr. Graub; yours is a very +small hand. Let me compare. Suppose I place my fingers so (I will not +touch it). Yes, a large hand, without doubt, and a left hand. Do you +know of any left-handed persons about here?" + +"Why, the man himself was left-handed," answered the landlord and Mrs. +Strain together--"Captain Heathcote himself." + +"He had been wounded, and carried his right arm in a sling," added Mr. +Graub. + +"Ah, yes," said the widow; "I remember now. Was this impression +measured?" + +"Yes; I have the exact figures," replied the landlord, taking out a +note-book, and reading the items aloud in a slow, important voice. + +"Did you measure it yourself?" asked the widow. "Because if _you_ did +it, I shall feel sure the figures are correct." + +"I did not measure it myself," answered Mr. Graub, not unimpressed by +this confidence. "I can, however, re-measure it in a moment if it would +be any gratification to you." + +"It would be--immense," said the widow. Whereupon he went down stairs +for a measure. + +"I am subject to dizziness myself, but I _must_ hear some one come up +that outside stairway," said Mrs. Young to Mrs. Strain during his +absence. "_Would_ you do it for me? I want to _imagine_ the _whole_." + +Mrs. J. Strain, though stout, consented; and when her highly decorated +bonnet was out of sight, the visitor swiftly drew from her pocket the +paper outline of Heathcote's hand which Anne had given her, and compared +it with the impression. The outlines seemed different; the hand which +had touched the cloth appeared to have been shorter and wider than +Heathcote's, the finger-tips broader, as though cushioned with flesh +underneath. Mrs. Strain's substantial step was now heard on the outside +stairway. But the pattern was already safely returned to the deep pocket +of Mrs. Young. + +"I have been picturing the entire scene," she said, in an impressive +whisper when the bonnet re-appeared, "and I assure you that when I heard +your footsteps on those stairs, goose-flesh rose and ran like lightning +down my spine." And Mrs. Strain, though out of breath, considered that +her services had been well repaid. + +Mr. Graub now returned, and measured the prints with the nicest +accuracy. Owing to the widow's compliment to his hands, he had stopped +to wash them, in order to give a finer effect to the operation. Mrs. +Young requested that the figures be written down for her on a slip of +paper, "as a memorial"; and then, with one more exhaustive look at the +room, the stairway, and the garden, she went away, accompanied by her +friend, leaving Mr. Graub more than ever convinced that he was a very +unusual man. + +Mrs. Strain was easily induced to finish the afternoon's dissipations by +going through the grass meadow by the side of the track made by the +murderer on his way to the river. They walked "by the side," because +the track itself was railed off. So many persons had visited the meadow +that Mr. Graub had been obliged to protect his relic in order to +preserve its identity, and even existence. The little trail was now +conspicuous by the fringing of tall grass which still stood erect on +each side of it, the remainder of the meadow having been trodden flat. + +"It ends at the river," said Mrs. Young, reflectively. + +"Yes, where he came to wash his hands, after the deed was done," +responded Mrs. Strain. "And what his visions and inward thoughts must +have been at sech a moment I leave you, Mrs. Young, solemnly to +consider." + +Mrs. Young then returned homeward, after thanking her Timloesville +friend for a "most impressive day." + +"The outlines are too indistinct to be really of much use, Ruth," she +said, as she removed her bonnet. "I believe it was so stated at the +trial, wasn't it? But if I have eyes, they do _not_ fit." + +"Of course not, since it is the hand of another person," replied Anne. +"But did you notice, or rather could you see, what the variations were?" + +"A broader palm, I should say, and the fingers shorter. The only point, +however, which I could make out with certainty was the thick cushion of +flesh at the ends of the fingers; that seemed clear enough." + +At sunset they went across the fields together to the point on the +river-bank where the meadow trail ended. + +"The river knows all," said Anne, looking wistfully at the smooth water. + +"_They_ think so too, for they've dragged it a number of times," +responded Miss Lois. "All the boys in the neighborhood have been diving +here ever since, I am told; they fancy the purse, watch, and rings are +in the mud at the bottom. But they're safe enough in somebody's +_pocket_, you may be sure." + +"Miss Lois," said the girl, suddenly, "perhaps he went away in a boat!" + +"My name is Deborah--Aunt Deborah; and I do wish, Ruth, you would not +forget it so constantly. In a boat? Well, perhaps he did. But I don't +see how that helps it. To-morrow is market-day, and I must go in to the +village and look out for left-handed men; they won't escape me though +they fairly dance jigs on their right!" + +"He went away in a boat," repeated Anne, as they walked homeward through +the dusky fields. + +But the man was no nearer or plainer because she had taken him from the +main road and placed him on the river; he seemed, indeed, more distant +and shadowy than before. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + + "The burnished dragon-fly is thine attendant, + And tilts against the field, + And down the listed sunbeam rides resplendent, + With steel-blue mail and shield." + + --LONGFELLOW. + + +Miss Lois came home excited. She had seen a left-handed man. True, he +was a well-known farmer of the neighborhood, a jovial man, apparently +frank and honest as the daylight. But there was no height of +impossibility impossible to Miss Lois when she was on a quest. She +announced her intention of going to his farm on the morrow under the +pretext of looking at his peonies, which, she had been told, were +remarkably fine, "for of course I made inquiries immediately, in order +to discover the prominent points, if there were any. If it had been +onions, I should have been deeply interested in them just the same." + +Anne, obliged for the present to let Miss Lois make the tentative +efforts, listened apathetically; then she mentioned her wish to row on +the river. + +"Better stay at home," said Miss Lois. "Then I shall know you are safe." + +"But I should like to go, if merely for the air," replied Anne. "My head +throbs as I sit here through the long hours. It is not that I expect to +accomplish anything, though I confess I _am_ haunted by the river, but +the motion and fresh air would perhaps keep me from thinking so +constantly." + +"I am a savage," said Miss Lois, "and you shall go where you please. The +truth is, Ruth, that while I am pursuing this matter with my mental +faculties, _you_ are pursuing it with the inmost fibres of your heart." +(The sentence was mixed, but the feeling sincere.) "I will go down this +very moment, and begin an arrangement about a boat for you." + +She kept her word. Anne, sitting by the window, heard her narrating to +Mrs. Blackwell a long chain of reasons to explain the fancy of her niece +Ruth for rowing. "She inherits it from her mother, poor child," said the +widow, with the sigh which she always gave to the memory of her departed +relatives. "Her mother was the daughter of a light-house keeper, and +lived, one might say, afloat. Little Ruthie, as a baby, used to play +boat; her very baby-talk was full of sailor words. _You_ haven't any +kind of a row-boat she could use, have you?" + +Mrs. Blackwell replied that they had not, but that a neighbor farther +down the river owned a skiff which might be borrowed. + +"Borrow it, then," said Mrs. Young. "They will lend it to _you_, of +course, in a friendly way, and then _we_ can pay _you_ something for the +use of it." + +This thrifty arrangement, of which Mrs. Blackwell unaided would never +have thought, was carried into effect, and early the next morning the +skiff floated at the foot of the meadow, tied to an overhanging branch. + +In the afternoon Mrs. Young, in the farm wagon, accompanied by her +hostess, and her hostess's little son as driver, set off for John Cole's +farm, to see, in Mrs. Blackwell's language, "the pynies." A little later +Anne was in the skiff, rowing up the river. She had not had oars in her +hands since she left the island. + +She rowed on for an hour, through the green fields, then through the +woods. Long-legged flies skated on the still surface of the water, +insects with gauzy wings floated to and fro. A dragon-fly with +steel-blue mail lighted on the edge of the boat. The burnished little +creature seemed attracted. He would not leave her, but even when he took +flight floated near by on his filmy wings, timing his advance with hers. +With one of those vague impulses by which women often select the merest +chance to decide their actions, Anne said to herself, "I will row on +until I lose sight of him." Turning the skiff, she took one oar for a +paddle, and followed the dragon-fly. He flew on now more steadily, +selecting the middle of the stream. No doubt he had a dragon-fly's +motives; perhaps he was going home; but whether he was or not, he led +Anne's boat onward until the river grew suddenly narrower, and entered a +ravine. Here, where the long boughs touched leaf-tips over her head, and +everything was still and green, she lost him. The sun was sinking toward +the western horizon line; it was time to return; but she said to herself +that she would come again on the morrow, and explore this cool glen to +which her gauzy-winged guide had brought her. When she reached home she +found Miss Lois there, and in a state of profound discomfiture. "The man +was left-handed enough," she said, "but, come to look at him, he hadn't +any little finger at all: chopped off by mistake when a boy. Now the +little finger in the impression is the most distinct part of the whole; +and so we've lost a day, and the price of the wagon thrown in, not to +speak of enough talking about peonies to last a lifetime! There's a fair +to-morrow, and of course I must go: more left hands: although now, I +confess, they swim round me in a cloud of vexation and peonies, which +makes me never want to lay eyes on one of them again;" and she gave a +groan, ending in a long yawn. However, the next morning, with patience +and energies renewed by sleep, she rose early, like a phoenix from her +ashes, and accompanied Mrs. Blackwell to the fair. Anne, again in her +skiff, went up the river. She rowed to the glen where she had lost the +dragon-fly. Here she rested on her oars a moment. The river still +haunted her. "He went away in a boat," had not been out of her mind +since it first came to her. "He went away in a boat," she now thought +again. "Would he, then, have rowed up or down the stream? If he had +wished to escape from the neighborhood, he would have rowed down to the +larger river below. He would not have rowed up stream unless he lived +somewhere in this region, and was simply going home, because there is no +main road in this direction, no railway, nothing but farms which touch +each other for miles round. Now, as I believe he was _not_ a stranger, +but a resident, I will suppose that he went up stream, and I will follow +him." She took up her oars and rowed on. + +The stream grew still narrower. She had been rowing a long time, and +knew that she must be far from home. Nothing broke the green solitude of +the shore until at last she came suddenly upon a little board house, +hardly more than a shanty, standing near the water, with the forest +behind. She started as she saw it, and a chill ran over her. And yet +what was it? Only a little board house. + +She rowed past; it seemed empty and silent. She turned the skiff, came +back, and gathering her courage, landed, and timidly tried the door; it +was locked. She went round and looked through the window. There was no +one within, but there were signs of habitation--some common furniture, a +gun, and on the wall a gaudy picture of the Virgin and the Holy Child. +She scrutinized the place with eyes that noted even the mark of muddy +boots on the floor and the gray ashes from a pipe on the table. Then +suddenly she felt herself seized with fear. If the owner of the cabin +should steal up behind her, and ask her what she was doing there! She +looked over her shoulder fearfully. But no one was visible, no one was +coming up or down the river; her own boat was the only thing that moved, +swaying to and fro where she had left it tied to a tree trunk. With the +vague terror still haunting her, she hastened to the skiff, pushed off, +and paddled swiftly away. But during the long voyage homeward the fear +did not entirely die away. "I am growing foolishly nervous," she said to +herself, with a weary sigh. + +Miss Lois had discovered no left-handed men at the fair; but she had +seen a person whom she considered suspicious--a person who sold +medicines. "He was middle-sized," she said to Anne, in the low tone they +used when within the house, "and he had a down look--a thing I never +could abide. He spoke, too, in an odd voice. I suspected him as soon as +I laid my eyes upon him, and so just took up a station near him, and +watched. He wasn't left-handed _exactly_," she added, as though +he might have been so endowed inexactly; "but he is capable of +anything--left-handed, web-footed, or whatever you please. After taking +a good long look at him, I went round and made (of course by chance, and +accidentally) some inquiries. Nobody seemed to know much about him +except that his name is Juder (and highly appropriate in my opinion), +and he came to the fair the day before with his little hand-cart of +medicines, and _went out again_, into the country somewhere, at sunset. +Do you mark the significance of that, Ruth Young? He did not stay at the +Timloe hotel (prices reduced for the fair, and very reasonable beds on +the floor), like the other traders; but though the fair is to be +continued over to-morrow, and he is to be there, he took all the trouble +to go out of town for the night." + +"Perhaps he had no money," said Anne, abstractedly. + +"I saw him with my own eyes take in dollars and dollars. Singular that +when country people will buy nothing else, they will buy patent +medicines. No: the man knows something of that murder, and _could_ not +stay at that hotel, Ruth Young. And that's _my_ theory." + +In her turn Anne now related the history of the day, and the discovery +of the solitary cabin. Miss Lois was not much impressed by the cabin. "A +man is better than a house, any day," she said. "But the thing is to get +the man to say 'cold.' I shall ask him to-morrow if he has any pills for +a cold in the head or on the lungs; and, as he tells long stories about +the remarkable cures his different bottles have effected, I hope, when I +once get him started, to hear the word several times. I confess, Ruth, +that I have great hopes; I feel the spirit rising within me to run him +down." + +Miss Lois went again to the fair, her mission bubbling within her. At +eight in the morning she started; at nine in the evening she returned. +With skirt and shawl bedraggled, and bonnet awry, she came to Anne's +room, closed the door, and demanded tragically that the broom-switch +should be taken from the shelf and applied to her own thin shoulders. "I +deserve it," she said. + +"For what?" said Anne, smiling. + +Miss Lois returned no answer until she had removed her bonnet and +brought forward a chair, seated herself upon it, severely erect, with +folded arms, and placed her feet on the round of another. "I went to +that fair," she began, in a concentrated tone, "and I followed that +medicine man; wherever he stopped his hand-cart and tried to sell, _I_ +was among his audience. I heard all his stories over and over again; +every time he produced his three certificates, _I_ read them. I watched +his hands, too, and made up my mind that they would do, though I did not +catch him in _open_ left-handedness. I now tried 'cold.' 'Have you any +pills for a cold in the head?' I asked. But all he said was 'yes,' and +he brought out a bottle. Then I tried him with a cold on the lungs; but +it was just the same. 'What are your testimonials for colds?' I +remarked, as though I had not quite made up my mind; and he thereupon +told two stories, but they were incoherent, and never once mentioned the +word I was waiting to hear. 'Haven't you ever had a cold yourself?' I +said, getting mad. 'Can't you speak?' And then, looking frightened, he +said he often had colds, and that he took those medicines, and that they +always cured him. And then hurriedly, and without waiting for the two +bottles which I held in my hand tightly, he began to move on with his +cart. But he had said 'gold,' Ruth--he had actually said 'gold!' And, +with the stings of a guilty, murderous conscience torturing him, he was +going away without the thirty-seven and a half cents each which those +two bottles cost! It was enough for me. I tracked him from that +moment--at a distance, of course, and in roundabout ways, so that he +would not suspect. I think during the day I must have walked, owing to +doublings and never stopping, twenty miles. When at last the fair was +over, and he started away, I started too. He went by the main road, and +I by a lane, and _such_ work as I had to keep him in sight, and yet not +let him see me! I almost lost him several times, but persevered until he +too turned off and went up a hill opposite toward a grove, dragging his +little cart behind him. I followed as quickly as I could. He was in the +grove as I drew near, stepping as softly as possible, and others were +with him; I heard the murmur of voices. 'I have come upon the whole +villainous band,' I thought, and I crept softly in among the trees, +hardly daring to breathe. Ruth, the voices had a little camp; they had +just lighted a fire; and--what do you think they were? Just a parcel of +children, the eldest a slip of a girl of ten or eleven! I never was more +dumbfounded in my life. Ruth, that medicine man sat down, kissed the +children all round, opened his cart, took out bread, cheese, and a +little package of tea, while the eldest girl put on a kettle, and they +all began to talk. And then the youngest, a little tot, climbed up on +his knee, and called him--Mammy! This was too much; and I appeared on +the scene. Ruth, he gathered up the children in a frightened sort of +way, as if I were going to eat them. 'What do you mean by following me +round all day like this?' he began, trying to be brave, though I could +see how scared he was. It _was_ rather unexpected, you know, my +appearing there at that hour so far from town. 'I mean,' said I, 'to +know who and what you are. Are you a woman, or are you a man?' + +"'Can't you see,' said the poor creature; 'with all these children +around? But it's not likely from your looks that _you_ ever had any of +your own, so you don't know.' She said that," thoughtfully remarked Miss +Lois, interrupting her own narrative, "and it has been said before. But +how in the world any one can know it at sight is and always will be a +mystery to me. Then said I to her, 'Are you the mother, then, of all +these children? And if so, how came you to be selling medicines dressed +up like a man? It's perfectly disgraceful, and you ought to be +arrested.' + +"'No one would buy of me if I was a woman,' she answered. 'The cart and +medicines belonged to my husband, and he died, poor fellow! four weeks +ago, leaving me without a cent. What was I to do? I know all the +medicines, and I know all he used to say when he sold them. He was about +my size, and I could wear his clothes. I just thought I'd try it for a +little while during fair-time for the sake of the children--only for a +little while to get started. So I cut my hair and resked it. And it's +done tolerably well until _you_ come along and nearly scared my life out +of me yesterday and to-day. I don't see what on earth you meant by it.' + +"Ruth, I took tea with that family on the hill-side, and I gave them all +the money I had with me. I have now come home. Any plan you have to +propose, I'll follow without a word. I have decided that my mission in +this life is _not_ to lead. But she _did_ say gold for cold," added Miss +Lois, with the spirit of "scissors." + +"I am afraid a good many persons say it," answered Anne. + +The next day Miss Lois gave herself up passively to the boat. They were +to take courage in each other's presence, and row to the solitary cabin +on the shore. When they reached it, it was again deserted. + +"There is no path leading to it or away from it in any direction," said +Miss Lois, after peeping through the small window. "The fire is still +burning. The owner, therefore, whoever it is, uses a boat, and can not +have been long gone either, or the fire would be out." + +"If he had gone down the river, we should have met him," suggested Anne, +still haunted by the old fear, and watching the forest glades +apprehensively. + +"How do you know it is a _he_?" said Miss Lois, with grim humor. +"Perhaps this, too, is a woman. However, as you say, if he had gone down +the river, _probably_ we should have met him--a 'probably' is all we +have to stand on--and the chances are, therefore, that he has gone up. +So we will go up." + +[Illustration: "THE SECOND BOAT, WHICH WAS FARTHER UP THE LAKE, +CONTAINED A MAN."] + +They took their places in the skiff again, and the little craft moved +forward. After another half-hour they saw, to their surprise, a broad +expanse of shining water opening out before them: the river was the +outlet of a little lake two miles long. + +"This, then, is where they go fishing," said Miss Lois. "The Blackwells +spoke of the pond, but I thought it was on the other side of the valley. +Push out, Ruth. There are two boats on it, both dug-outs; we'll row by +them." + +The first boat contained a boy, who said, "Good-day, mums," and showed a +string of fish. The second boat, which was farther up the lake, +contained a man. He was also fishing, and his face was shaded by an old +slouch hat. Anne, who was rowing, could not see him as they approached; +but she saw Miss Lois's hands close suddenly upon each other in their +lisle-thread gloves, and was prepared for something, she knew not what. +No word was spoken; she rowed steadily on, though her heart was +throbbing. When she too could look at the man, she saw what it was: he +was holding his rod with his left hand. + +Their skiff had not paused; it passed him and his dug-out, and moved +onward a quarter of a mile--half a mile--before they spoke; they were +afraid the very air would betray them. Then Anne beached the boat under +the shade of a tree, took off her straw hat, and bathed her pale face in +the clear water. + +"After all, it is the vaguest kind of a chance," said Miss Lois, +rallying, and bringing forward the common-sense view of the case: "no +better a one, at this stage, than the peony farmer or my medicine man. +You must not be excited, Ruth." + +"I am excited only because I have thought so much of the river," said +Anne. "The theory that the man who did it went away from the foot of +that meadow in a boat, and up this river, has haunted me constantly." + +"Theories are like scaffolding: they are not the house, but you can not +build the house without them," said Miss Lois. "What we've got to do +next is to see whether this man has all his fingers, whether he is a +woman, and whether he says, 'gold.' Will you leave it to me, or will you +speak to him yourself? On the whole, I think you had better speak to +him: your face is in your favor." + +When Anne felt herself sufficiently calm, they rowed down the lake +again, and passed nearer to the dug-out, and paused. + +"Have you taken many fish?" said Anne, in a voice totally unlike her +own, owing to the effort she made to control it. The fisherman looked +up, took his rod in his right hand, and, with his left, lifted a string +of fish. + +"Pretty good, eh?" he said, regarding Anne with slow-coming approval. +"Have some?" + +"Oh no," she answered, almost recoiling. + +"But, on the whole, I think I _should_ like a few for tea, Ruth," said +Miss Lois, hastening to the rescue--"my health," she added, addressing +the fisherman, "not being what it was in the lifetime of Mr. Young. How +much are your fish? I should like six, if you do not ask too much." + +The man named his price, and the widow objected. Then she asked him to +hold up the string again, that she might have a better view. He laid his +rod aside, held the string in his right hand, and as she selected, still +bargaining for the fish she preferred, he detached them with his left +hand. Two pairs of eyes, one old, sharp, and aided by spectacles, the +other young, soft, intent, yet fearful, watched his every motion. When +he held the fish toward them, the widow was long in finding her purse; +the palm of his hand was toward them, they could see the underside of +the fingers. They were broad, and cushioned with coarse flesh. + +Anne had now grown so pale that the elder woman did not dare to linger +longer. She paid the money, took the fish, and asked her niece to row on +down the lake, not forgetting, even then, to add that she was afraid of +the sun's heat, having once had a sun-stroke during the life of the +lamented Mr. Young. Anne rowed on, hardly knowing what she was doing. +Not until they had reached the little river again, and were out of sight +round its curve under the overhanging trees, did they speak. + +"Left-handed, and cushions under his finger-tips," said Miss Lois. "But, +Ruth, how you acted! You almost betrayed us." + +"I could not help it," said Anne, shuddering. "When I saw that hand, and +thought-- Oh, poor, poor Helen!" + +"You must not give way to fancies," said Miss Louis. But she too felt an +inward excitement, though she would not acknowledge it. + +The fisherman was short in stature, and broad; he was muscular, and his +arms seemed too long for his body as he sat in his boat. His head was +set on his shoulders without visible throat, his small eyes were very +near together, and twinkled when he spoke, while his massive jaw +contradicted their ferrety mirthfulness as his muscular frame +contradicted the childish, vacant expression of his peculiarly small +boyish mouth, whose upper lip protruded over narrow yellow teeth like +fangs. + +"Faces have little to do with it," said Miss Lois again, half to +herself, half to Anne. "It is well known that the portraits of murderers +show not a few fine-looking men among them, while the women are almost +invariably handsome. What _I_ noticed was a certain want in the +creature's face, a weakness of some kind, with all his evident +craftiness." + +When they came to the solitary cabin, Miss Lois proposed that they +should wait and see whether it really was the fisherman's home. "It will +be another small point settled," she said. "We can conceal our boat, and +keep watch in the woods. As he has my money, he will probably come home +soon, and very likely go directly down to the village to spend it: that +is always the way with such shiftless creatures." + +They landed, hid the boat in a little bay among the reeds some distance +below the cabin, and then stole back through the woods until they came +within sight of its door. There, standing concealed behind two tree +trunks, they waited, neither speaking nor stirring. Miss Lois was right +in her conjecture: within a quarter of an hour the fisherman came down +the river from the lake, stopped at the house, brought out a jug, placed +it in his dug-out; then, relocking the door, he paddled by them down the +river. They waited some minutes without stirring. Then Miss Lois stepped +from her hiding-place. + +"Whiskey!" she said. "And _my_ money pays for the damnable stuff!" This +reflection kept her silent while they returned to the skiff; but when +they were again afloat, she sighed and yielded it as a sacrifice to the +emergencies of the quest. Returning to the former subject, she held +forth as follows: "It is something, Ruth, but not all. We must not hope +too much. What is it? A man lives up the river, and owns a boat; he is +left-handed, and has cushions of flesh under his finger-tips: that is +the whole. For we can scarcely count as evidence the fact that he is as +ugly as a stump fence, such men being not uncommon in the world, and +often pious as well. We must do nothing hurriedly, and make no +inquiries, lest we scare the game--if it _is_ game. To-morrow is +market-day; he will probably be in the village with fish to sell, and +the best way will be for me to find out quietly who his associates are, +by using my eyes and not my tongue. His associates, if he has any, might +next be tackled, through their wives, perhaps. Maybe they do sewing, +some of them; in that case, we could order something, and so get to +speaking terms. There's my old challis, which I have had dyed black--it +might be made over, though I _was_ going to do it myself. And now do row +home, Ruth; I'm dropping for my tea. This exploring work is powerfully +wearing on the nerves." + +The next day she went to the village. + +Anne, finding herself uncontrollably restless, went down and unfastened +the skiff, with the intention of rowing awhile to calm her excited +fancies. She went up the river for a mile or two. Her mind had fastened +itself tenaciously upon the image of the fisherman, and would not loosen +its hold. She imagined him stealing up the stairway and leaning over +Helen; then escaping with his booty, running through the meadow, and +hiding it in his boat, probably the same old black dug-out she had seen. +And then, while she was thinking of him, she came suddenly upon him, +sitting in his dug-out, not ten feet distant, fishing. Miss Lois had +been mistaken in her surmise: he was not in the village, but here. + +There had not been a moment of preparation for Anne; yet in the +emergency coolness came. Resting on her oars, she spoke: "Have you any +fish to-day?" + +He shook his head, and held up one. "That's all," he said, drawing his +hand over his mouth by way of preparation for conversation. + +"I should not think there would be as many fish here as in the lake," +she continued, keeping her boat at a distance by a slight motion of her +oars. + +"When the wind blows hard, there's more in the river," he answered. +"Wind blows to-day." + +Was she mistaken? Had he given a sound of _d_ to _th_? + +"But the water of the lake must be colder," she said, hardly able to +pronounce the word herself. + +"Yes, in places where it's deep. But it's mostly shaller." + +"How cold is it? Very cold?" (Was _she_ saying "gold" too?) + +"No, not very, this time o' year. But cold enough in April." + +"What?" + +"Cold enough in April," replied the fisherman, his small eyes gazing at +her with increasing approbation. + +He had given the sound of _g_ to the _c_. The pulses in Anne's throat +and temples were throbbing so rapidly now that she could not speak. + +"I could bring yer some fish to-morrer, I reckon," said the man, making +a clicking sound with his teeth as he felt a bite and then lost it. + +She nodded, and began to turn the boat. + +"Where do you live?" he called, as the space between them widened. + +She succeeded in pronouncing the name of her hostess, and then rowed +round the curve out of sight, trying not to betray her tremulous haste +and fear. All the way home she rowed with the strength of a giantess, +not knowing how she was exerting herself until she began to walk through +the meadow toward the house, when she found her limbs failing her. She +reached her room with an effort, and locking her door, threw herself +down on a couch to wait for Miss Lois. It was understood in the house +that "poor Miss Young" had one of her "mathematical headaches." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + + "God made him; therefore let him pass for a man." + + --SHAKSPEARE. + + +When Miss Lois returned, and saw Anne's face, she was herself stirred to +excitement. "You have seen him!" she said, in a whisper. + +"Yes. He is the murderer: I feel it." + +"Did he say 'gold'?" + +"He did." + +They sat down on the couch together, and in whispers Anne told all. Then +they looked at each other. + +"We must work as lightly as thistle-down," said Miss Lois, "or we shall +lose him. He was not in the village to-day, and as he was not, I thought +it safer not to inquire about him. I am glad now that I did not. But you +are in a high fever, dear child. This suspense must be brought to an +end, or it will kill you." She put her arms round Anne and kissed her +fondly--an unusual expression of feeling from Miss Lois, who had been +brought up in the old-fashioned rigidly undemonstrative New England +manner. And the girl put her head down upon her old friend's shoulder +and clung to her. But she could not weep; the relief of tears was not +yet come. + +In the morning they saw the fisherman at the foot of the meadow, and +watched him through the blinds, breathlessly. He was so much and so +important to them that it seemed as if they must be the same to him. But +he was only bringing a string of fish to sell. He drew up his dug-out on +the bank, and came toward the house with a rolling step, carrying his +fish. + +"There's a man here with some fish, that was ordered, he says, by +somebody from here," said a voice on the stairs. "Was it you, Mrs. +Young?" + +"Yes. Come in, Mrs. Blackwell--do. My niece ordered them: you know +they're considered very good for an exhausted brain. Perhaps I'd better +go down and look at them myself. And, by-the-way, who is this man?" + +"It's Sandy Croom; he lives up near the pond." + +"Yes, we met him up that way. Is he a German?" + +"There's Dutch blood in him, I reckon, as there is in most of the people +about here who are not Marylanders," said Mrs. Blackwell, who _was_ a +Marylander. + +"He's a curious-looking creature," pursued Mrs. Young, as they descended +the stairs. "Is he quite right in his mind?" + +"Some think he isn't; but others say he's sharper than we suppose. He +drinks, though." + +By this time they were in the kitchen, and Mrs. Young went out to the +porch to receive and pay for the fish, her niece Ruth silently +following. Croom took off his old hat and made a backward scrape with +his foot by way of salutation; his small head was covered with a mat of +boyish-looking yellow curls, which contrasted strangely with his red +face. + +"Here's yer fish," he said, holding them out toward Anne. + +But she could not take them: she was gazing, fascinated, at his +hand--that broad short left hand which haunted her like a horrible +phantom day and night. She raised her handkerchief to her lips in order +to conceal, as far as possible, the horror she feared her face must +betray. + +"You never _could_ abide a fishy smell, Ruth," said Mrs. Young, +interposing. She paid the fisherman, and asked whether he fished in the +winter. He said "no," but gave no reason. He did not, as she had hoped, +pronounce the desired word. Then, after another gaze at Anne, he went +away, but turned twice to look back before he reached the end of the +garden. + +"It can not be that he suspects!" murmured Anne. + +"No; it's your face, child. Happy or unhappy, you can not help having +just the same eyes, hair, and skin, thank the Lord!" + +They went upstairs and watched him from the window; he pushed off his +dug-out, got in, and paddled toward the village. + +"More whiskey!" said Miss Lois, sitting down and rubbing her forehead. +"I wish, Ruth Young--I devoutly wish that I knew what it is best to do +_now_!" + +"Then you think with me?" said Anne, eagerly. + +"By no means. There isn't a particle of _certainty_. But--I don't deny +that there _is_ a chance. The trouble is that we can hardly stir in the +matter without arousing his suspicion. If he had lived in the village +among other people, it would not have been difficult; but, all alone in +that far-off cabin--" + +Anne clasped her hands suddenly. "Let us send for Père Michaux!" she +said. "There was a picture of the Madonna in his cabin--he is a Roman +Catholic. Let us send for Père Michaux." + +They gazed at each other in excited silence. Miss Lois was the first to +speak. "I'm not at all sure but that you have got hold of the difficulty +by the right handle at last, Anne," she said, slowly, drawing a long +audible breath. It was the first time she had used the name since their +departure from New York. + +And the letter was written immediately. + +"It's a long journey for a small chance," said the elder woman, +surveying it as it lay sealed on the table. "Still, I think he will +come." + +"Yes, for humanity's sake," replied Anne. + +"I don't know about humanity," replied her companion, huskily; "but he +will come for _yours_. Let us get out in the open air; I'm perfectly +tired out by this everlasting whispering. It would be easier to roar." + +The letter was sent. Four days for it to go, four days for the answer to +return, one day for chance. They agreed not to become impatient before +the tenth day. + +But on the ninth came, not a letter, but something better--Père Michaux +in person. + +They were in the fields at sunset, at some distance from the house, when +Anne's eyes rested upon him, walking along the country road in his old +robust fashion, on his way to the farm-house. She ran across the field +to the fence, calling his name. Miss Lois followed, but more slowly; her +mind was in a turmoil regarding his unexpected arrival, and the +difficulty of making him comprehend or conform to the net-work of fable +she had woven round their history. + +The old priest gave Anne his blessing; he was much moved at seeing her +again. She held his hand in both of her own, and could scarcely realize +that it was he, her dear old island friend, standing there in person +beside her. + +"Dear, dear Père Michaux, how good you are to come!" she said, +incoherently, the tears filling her eyes, half in sorrow, half in joy. + +Miss Lois now came up and greeted him. "I am glad to see you," she said. +Then, in the same breath: "Our names, Father Michaux, are Young; +Young--please remember." + +"How good you are to come!" said Anne again, the weight on her heart +lightened for the moment as she looked into the clear, kind, wise old +eyes that met her own. + +"Not so very good," said Père Michaux, smiling. "I have been wishing to +see you for some time, and I think I should have taken the journey +before long in any case. Vacations are due me; it is years since I have +had one, and I am an old man now." + +"You will never be old," said the girl, affectionately. + +"Young is the name," repeated Miss Lois, with unconscious +appositeness--"Deborah and Ruth Young." + +"I am glad at least that I am not too old to help you, my child," +answered Père Michaux, paying little heed to the elder woman's anxious +voice. + +They were still standing by the road-side. Père Michaux proposed that +they should remain in the open air while the beautiful hues of the +sunset lasted, and they therefore returned to the field, and sat down +under an elm-tree. Under ordinary circumstances, Miss Lois would have +strenuously objected to this sylvan indulgence, having peculiarly +combative feelings regarding dew; but this evening the maze of doubt in +which she was wandering as to whether or not Père Michaux would stay in +her web made dew a secondary consideration. Remaining in the fields +would at least give time. + +Père Michaux was as clear-headed and energetic as ever. After the first +few expressions of gladness and satisfaction, it was not long before he +turned to Anne, and spoke of the subject which lay before them. "Tell me +all," he said. "This is as good a time and place as any we could have, +and there should be, I think, no delay." + +But though he spoke to Anne, it was Miss Lois who answered: it would +have been simply impossible for her not to take that narrative into her +own hands. + +He listened to the tale with careful attention, not interrupting her +many details with so much as a smile or a shrug. This was very unlike +his old way with Miss Lois, and showed more than anything else could +have done his absorbed interest in the story. + +"It is the old truth," he said, after the long stream of words had +finally ceased. "Regarding the unravelling of mysteries, women seem +sometimes endowed with a sixth sense. A diamond is lost on a turnpike. A +man goes along the turnpike searching for it. A woman, searching for it +also, turns vaguely off into a field, giving no logical reason for her +course, and--finds it." + +But while he talked, his mind was in reality dwelling upon the pale girl +beside him, the young girl in whom he had felt such strong interest, for +whom he had involuntarily cherished such high hope in those early days +on the island. + +He knew of her testimony at the trial; he had not been surprised. What +he had prophesied for her had come indeed. But not so fortunately or so +happily as he had hoped. He had saved her from Erastus Pronando for +this! Was it well done? He roused himself at last, perceiving that Anne +was noticing his abstraction; her eyes were fixed upon him with anxious +expectation. + +"I must go to work in my own way," he said, stroking her hair. "One +point, however, I have already decided: _you_ must leave this +neighborhood immediately. I wish you had never come." + +"But she can not be separated from me," said Miss Lois; "and of course +_I_ shall be necessary in the search--_I_ must be here." + +"I do not see that there is any necessity at present," replied Père +Michaux. "You have done all you could, and I shall work better, I think, +alone." Then, as the old quick anger flashed from her eyes, he turned to +Anne. "It is on your account, child," he said. "I must _make_ you go. I +know it is like taking your life from you to send you away now. But if +anything comes of this--if your woman's blind leap into the dark proves +to have been guided by intuition, the lime-light of publicity will +instantly be turned upon this neighborhood, and you could not escape +discovery. Your precautions, or rather those of our good friend Miss +Lois, have availed so far: you can still depart in their shadow +unobserved. Do so, then, while you can. My first wish is--can not help +being--that you should escape. I would rather even have the clew fail +than have your name further connected with the matter." + +"This is what we get by applying to a _man_," said Miss Lois, in high +indignation. "Always thinking of evil!" + +"Yes, men do think of it. But Anne will yield to my judgment, will she +not?" + +"I will do as you think best," she answered. But no color rose in her +pale face, as he had expected; the pressing danger and the fear clothed +the subject with a shroud. + +Miss Lois did not hide her anger and disappointment. Yet she would not +leave Anne. And therefore the next morning Mrs. Young and her niece, +with health much improved by their sojourn in the country, bade good-by +to their hostess, and went southward in the little stage on their way +back to "Washington." + +Père Michaux was not seen at the farm-house at all; he had returned to +the village from the fields, and had taken rooms for a short sojourn at +the Timloe hotel. + +The "Washington," in this instance, was a small town seventy miles +distant; here Mrs. Young and her niece took lodgings, and began, with +what patience they could muster, their hard task of waiting. + +As for Père Michaux, he went fishing. + + +EXTRACT FROM THE LETTER OF A SUMMER FISHERMAN. + +"I have labored hard, Anne--harder than ever before in my life. I +thought I knew what patience was, in my experience with my Indians and +half-breeds. I never dreamed of its breadth until now! For my task has +been the hard one of winning the trust of a trustless mind--trustless, +yet crafty; of subduing its ever-rising reasonless suspicion; of rousing +its nearly extinct affections; of touching its undeveloped, almost dead, +conscience, and raising it to the point of confession. I said to myself +that I would do all this in sincerity; that I would make myself do it in +sincerity; that I would teach the poor creature to love me, and having +once gained his warped affection, I would assume the task of caring for +him as long as life lasted. If I did this in truth and real earnestness +I might succeed, as the missionaries of my Church succeed, with the most +brutal savages, _because_ they are in earnest. Undertaking this, of +course I also accepted the chance that all my labor, regarding the hope +that _you_ have cherished, might be in vain, and that this poor bundle +of clay might not be, after all, the criminal we seek. Yet had it been +so, my care of him through life must have been the same; having gained +his confidence, I could never have deserted him while I lived. Each day +I have labored steadily; but often I have advanced so slowly that I +seemed to myself not to advance at all. + +"I began by going to the pond to fish. We met daily. At first I did not +speak; I allowed him to become accustomed to my presence. It was a long +time before I even returned his glance of confused respect and +acquaintance as our boats passed near each other, for he had at once +recognized the priest. I built my foundations with exactest care and +patience, often absenting myself in order to remove all suspicion of +watchfulness or regularity from his continually suspicious mind; for +suspicion, enormously developed, is one of his few mental powers. I had +to make my way through its layers as a minute blood-vessel penetrates +the cumbrous leathern hide of the rhinoceros. + +"I will not tell you all the details now; but at last, one morning, by a +little chance event, my long, weary, and apparently unsuccessful labor +was crowned with success. He became attached to me. I suppose in all his +poor warped life before no one had ever shown confidence in him or tried +to win his affection. + +"The next step was not so difficult. I soon learned that he had a +secret. In his ignorant way, he is a firm believer in the terrors of +eternal punishment, and having become attached to me, I could see that +he was debating in his own mind whether or not to confide it to me as a +priest, and obtain absolution. I did not urge him; I did not even invite +his confidence. But I continued faithful to him, and I knew that in time +it would come. It did. You are right, Anne; he is the murderer. + +"It seems that by night he is tormented by superstitious fear. He is not +able to sleep unless he stupefies himself with liquor, because he +expects to see his victim appear and look at him with her hollow eyes. +To rid himself of this haunting terror, he told all to me under the seal +of the confessional. And then began the hardest task of all. + +"For as a priest I could not betray him (and I should never have done +so, Anne, even for your sake), and yet another life was at stake. I told +him with all the power, all the eloquence, I possessed, that his +repentance would never be accepted, that he himself would never be +forgiven, unless he rescued by a public avowal the innocent man who was +suffering in his place. And I gave him an assurance also, which must be +kept even if I have to go in person to the Governor, that, in case of +public avowal, his life should be spared. His intellect is plainly +defective. If Miss Teller, Mr. Heathcote, and the lawyers unite in an +appeal for him, I think it will be granted. + +"It has been, Anne, very hard, fearfully hard, to bring him to the +desired point; more than once I have lost heart. Yet never have I used +the lever of real menace, and I wish you to know that I have not. At +last, thanks be to the eternal God, patience has conquered. Urged by the +superstition which consumes him, he consented to repeat to the local +officials, in my presence and under my protection, the confession he had +made to me, and to give up the watch and rings, which have lain all this +time buried in the earth behind his cabin, he fearing to uncover them +until a second crop of grass should be green upon his victim's grave, +lest she should appear and take them from him! He did this in order to +be delivered in this world and the next, and he will be delivered; for +his crime was a brute one, like that of the wolf who slays the lamb. + +"I shall see you before long, my dear child; but you will find me worn +and old. This has been the hardest toil of my whole life." + + * * * * * + +Père Michaux did not add that his fatigue of body and mind was +heightened by a painful injury received at the hands of the poor wretch +he was trying to help. Unexpectedly one morning Croom had attacked him +with a billet of wood, striking from behind, and without cause, save +that he coveted the priest's fishing-tackle, and, in addition, something +in the attitude of the defenseless white-haired old man at that moment +tempted him, as a lasso-thrower is tempted by a convenient chance +position of cattle. The blow, owing to a fortunate movement of Père +Michaux at the same instant, was not mortal, but it disabled the old +man's shoulder and arm. And perceiving this, Croom had fled. But what +had won his brute heart was the peaceful appearance of the priest at his +cabin door early the next morning, where the fisherman had made all +ready for flight, and his friendly salutation. "Of course I knew it was +all an accident, Croom," he said; "that you did not mean it. And I have +come out to ask if you have not something you can recommend to apply to +the bruise. You people who live in the woods have better balms than +those made in towns; and besides, I would rather ask _your_ help than +apply to a physician, who might ask questions." He entered the cabin as +he spoke, took off his hat, sat down, and offered his bruised arm +voluntarily to the hands that had struck the blow. Croom, frightened, +brought out a liniment, awkwardly assisted the priest in removing his +coat, and then, as the old man sat quietly expectant, began to apply +it. As he went on he regained his courage: evidently he was not to be +punished. The bruised flesh appealed to him, and before he knew it he +was bandaging the arm almost with affection. The priest's trust had won +what stood in the place of a heart: it was so new to him to be trusted. +This episode of the injured arm, more than anything else, won in the end +the confession. + + +EXTRACT FROM THE NEW YORK "ZEUS." + +"Even the story of the last great battle was eclipsed in interest in +certain circles of this city yesterday by the tidings which were flashed +over the wires from a remote little village in Pennsylvania. Our readers +will easily recall the trial of Captain Ward Heathcote on the charge of +murder, the murder of his own wife. The evidence against the accused was +close, though purely circumstantial. The remarkable incidents of the +latter part of the trial have not been forgotten. The jury were unable +to agree, and the case went over to the November term. + +"The accused, though not convicted, has not had the sympathy of the +public. Probably eight out of ten among those who read the evidence have +believed him guilty. But yesterday brought the startling intelligence +that human judgment has again been proven widely at fault, that the real +murderer is in custody, and that he has not only confessed his guilt, +but also restored the rings and watch, together with the missing towel. +The chain of links is complete. + +"The criminal is described as a creature of uncouth appearance, in +mental capacity deficient, though extraordinarily cunning. He spent the +small amount of money in the purse, but was afraid to touch the rings +and watch until a second crop of grass should be growing upon his +victim's grave, lest she should appear and take them from him! It is to +ignorant superstitious terror of this kind that we owe the final capture +of this grotesque murderer. + +"His story fills out the missing parts of the evidence, and explains the +apparent participation of the accused to have been but an intermingling +of personalities. After Captain Heathcote had gone down the outside +stairway with the two towels in his pocket, this man, Croom, who was +passing the end of the garden at the time, and had seen him come out by +the light from the lamp within, stole up the same stairway in order to +peer into the apartment, partly from curiosity, partly from the thought +that there might be something there to steal. He supposed there was no +one in the room, but when he reached the window and peeped through a +crack in the old blind, he saw that there was some one--a woman asleep. +In his caution he had consumed fifteen or twenty minutes in crossing the +garden noiselessly and ascending the stairway, and during this interval +Mrs. Heathcote had fallen asleep. The light from the lamp happened to +shine full on the diamonds in her rings as they lay, together with her +purse and watch, on the bureau, and he coveted the unexpected booty as +soon as his eyes fell upon it. Quick as thought he drew open the blind, +and crept in on his hands and knees, going straight toward the bureau; +but ere he could reach it the sleeper stirred. He had not intended +murder, but his brute nature knew no other way, and in a second the deed +was done. Then he seized the watch, purse, and rings, went out as he had +come, through the window, closing the blind behind him, and stole down +the stairway in the darkness. The man is left-handed. It will be +remembered that this proved left-handedness of the murderer was regarded +as a telling point against Captain Heathcote, his right arm being at the +time disabled, and supported by a sling. + +[Illustration: "HE REACHED THE WINDOW, AND PEEPED THROUGH A CRACK IN THE +OLD BLIND."] + +"Croom went through the grass meadow to the river-bank, where his boat +was tied, and hastily hiding his spoil under the seat, was about to push +off, when he was startled by a slight sound, which made him think that +another boat was approaching. Stealing out again, he moved cautiously +toward the noise, but it was only a man bathing at some distance down +the stream, the stillness of the night having made his movements in the +water audible. Wishing to find out if the bather were any one he knew, +Croom, under cover of the darkness, spoke to him from the bank, asking +some chance question. The voice that replied was that of a stranger; +still, to make all sure, Croom secreted himself at a short distance, +after pretending to depart by the main road, and waited. Presently the +bather passed by, going homeward; Croom, very near him, kneeling beside +a bush, was convinced by the step and figure that it was no one he knew, +that it was not one of the villagers or neighboring farmers. After +waiting until all was still, he went to the place where the man had +bathed, and searched with his hands on the sand and grass to see if he +had not dropped a cigar or stray coin or two: this petty covetousness, +when he had the watch and diamonds, betrays the limited nature of his +intelligence. He found nothing save the two towels which Captain +Heathcote had left behind; he took these and went back to his boat. +There, on the shore, the sound of a dog's sudden bark alarmed him; he +dropped one of the towels, could not find it among the reeds, and, +without waiting longer, pushed off his boat and paddled up the stream +toward home. This singular creature, who was bold enough to commit +murder, yet afraid to touch his booty for fear of rousing a ghost, has +been living on as usual all this time, within a mile or two of the +village where his crime was committed, pursuing his daily occupation of +fishing, and mixing with the villagers as formerly, without betraying +his secret or attracting toward himself the least suspicion. His narrow +but remarkable craft is shown in the long account he gives of the +intricate and roundabout ways he selected for spending the money he had +stolen. The purse itself, together with the watch, rings, and towel, he +buried under a tree behind his cabin, where they have lain undisturbed +until he himself unearthed them, and delivered them to the priest. + +"For this notable confession was obtained by the influence of one of a +body of men vowed to good works, a priest of the Roman Catholic Church. +Croom was of the same faith, after his debased fashion, and in spite of +his weak mind (perhaps on account of it) a superstitious, almost craven, +believer. + +"The presence of this rarely intelligent and charitable priest in +Timloesville at this particular time may be set down as one of these +fortunate chances with which a some what unfortunate world is +occasionally blessed. Resting after arduous labor elsewhere and engaged +in the rural amusement of fishing, this kind-hearted old man noticed the +degraded appearance and life of this poor waif of humanity, and in a +generous spirit of charity set himself to work to enlighten and instruct +him, as much as was possible during the short period of his stay. In +this he was successful far beyond his expectation, far beyond his +conception, like a laborer ploughing a field who comes upon a vein of +gold. He has not only won this poor wretch to repentance, but has also +cleared from all suspicion of the darkest crime on the record of crimes +the clouded fame of a totally innocent man. + +"Never was there a weightier example of the insufficiency of what is +called sufficient evidence, and while we, the public, should be deeply +glad that an innocent man has been proven innocent, we should also be +covered with confusion for the want of perspicacity displayed in the +general prejudgment of this case, where minds seem, sheep-like, to have +followed each other, without the asking of a question. The people of a +rural neighborhood are so convinced of the guilt of the person whom they +in their infallibility have arrested that they pay no heed to other +possibilities of the case. _Cui bono!_ And their wise-acre belief +spreads abroad in its brightest hues to the press--to the world. It is +the real foundation upon which all the evidence rested. + +"A child throws a stone. Its widening ripples stretch across a lake, and +break upon far shores. A remote and bucolic community cherishes a +surmise, and a continent accepts it. The nineteenth century is hardly to +be congratulated upon such indolent inanity, such lambent laxity, as +this." + + + + +CHAPTER XL. + + "Who ordered toil as the condition of life, ordered failure, + success; to this person a foremost place, to the other a struggle + with the crowd; to each some work upon the ground he stands on + until he is laid beneath it.... Lucky he who can bear his failure + generously, and give up his broken sword to Fate, the conqueror, + with a manly and humble heart."--WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY + + +When set at liberty, Ward Heathcote returned to New York. + +The newspapers everywhere had published similar versions of Père +Michaux's agency in the discovery of the murderer, and Anne's connection +with it was never known. To this day neither Mrs. Blackwell, Mrs. +Strain, nor Mr. Graub himself, has any suspicion that their summer +visitors were other than the widow Young and her niece Ruth from the +metropolis of Washington. + +Heathcote returned to New York. And society received him with widely +open arms. The women had never believed in his guilt; they now +apotheosized him. The men had believed in it; they now pressed forward +to atone for their error. But it was a grave and saddened man who +received this ovation--an ovation quiet, hardly expressed in words, but +marked, nevertheless. A few men did say openly, "Forgive me, Heathcote; +you can not be half so severe on me as I am on myself." But generally a +silent grip of the hand was the only outward expression. + +The most noticeable sign was the deference paid him. It seemed as if a +man who had unjustly suffered so much, and been so cruelly suspected, +should now be crowned in the sight of all. They could not actually crown +him, but they did what they could. + +Through this deference and regret, through these manifestations of +feeling from persons not easily stirred to feeling or deference, +Heathcote passed unmoved and utterly silent, like a man of marble. After +a while it was learned that he had transferred Helen's fortune to other +hands. At first he had tried to induce Miss Teller to take it, but she +had refused. He had then deeded it all to a hospital for children, in +which his wife had occasionally evinced some interest. Society divided +itself over this action; some admired it, others pronounced it Quixotic. +But the man who did it seemed to care nothing for either their praise or +their blame. + +Rachel asked Isabel if she knew where Anne was. + +"The very question I asked dear Miss Teller yesterday," replied Isabel. +"She told me that Anne had returned to that island up in the Northwest +somewhere, where she used to live. Then I asked, 'Is she going to remain +there?' and Miss Teller answered, 'Yes,' but in such a tone that I did +not like to question further." + +"It has ended, then, as I knew it would," said Rachel. "In spite of all +that display on the witness stand, you see he has _not_ married her." + +"He could not marry her very well at present, I suppose," began Isabel, +who had a trace of feeling in her heart for the young girl. + +But Rachel interrupted her. "I tell you he will never marry her," she +said, her dark eyes flashing out upon the thin blonde face of her +companion. For old Mrs. Bannert was dead at last, and her +daughter-in-law had inherited the estate. Two weeks later she sailed +rather unexpectedly for Europe. But if unexpectedly, not causelessly. +She was not a woman to hesitate; before she went she had staked her all, +played her game, and--lost it. + +Heathcote had never been, and was not now, a saint; but he saw life with +different eyes. During the old careless days it had never occurred to +him to doubt himself, or his own good (that is, tolerably good--good +enough) qualities. Suddenly he had found himself a prisoner behind bars, +and half the world, even his own world, believed him guilty. This had +greatly changed him. As the long days and nights spent in prison had +left traces on his face which would never pass away, so this judgment +passed upon him had left traces on his heart which would not be +outlived. As regarded both himself and others he was sterner. + +Anne had returned with Miss Lois to the island. From New York he wrote +to her, "If I can not see you, I shall go back to the army. My old life +here is unendurable now." + +No letters had passed between them: this was the first. They had not +seen each other since that interview in the Multomah prison. + +She answered simply, Go. + +He went. + + * * * * * + +More than two years passed. Miss Teller journeyed westward to the +island, and staid a long time at the church-house, during the first +summer, making with reverential respect an acquaintance with Miss Lois. +During the second summer Tita came home to make a visit, astonishing her +old companions, and even her own sister, by the peculiar beauty of her +little face and figure, and her air of indulgent superiority over +everything the poor island contained. But she was happy. She smiled +sometimes with such real naturalness, her small white teeth gleaming +through her delicate little lips, that Anne went across and kissed her +out of pure gladness, gladness that she was so content. Rast had +prospered--at least he was prospering now (he failed and prospered +alternately)--and his little wife pleased herself with silks that +trailed behind her over the uncarpeted halls of the church-house, giving +majesty (so she thought) to her small figure. If they did not give +majesty, they gave an unexpected and bizarre contrast. Strangers who saw +Tita that summer went home and talked about her, and never forgot her. + +The two boys were tall and strong--almost men; they had no desire to +come eastward. Anne must not send them any more money; they did not need +it; on the contrary, in a year or two, when they had made their fortunes +(merely a question of time), they intended to build for her a grand +house on the island, and bestow upon her an income sufficient for all +her wants. They requested her to obtain plans for this mansion, +according to her taste. + +Père Michaux was at work, as usual, in his water parish. He had +succeeded in obtaining a commutation of the death sentence, in Croom's +case, to imprisonment for a term of years, the criminal's mental +weakness being the plea. But he considered the prisoner his especial +charge, and never lost sight of him. Such solace and instruction as +Croom was capable of receiving were constantly given, if not by the +priest himself, then by his influence; and this protection was continued +long after the wise, kind old man had passed away. + +Jeanne-Armande returned from Europe, and entered into happy possession +of the half-house, as it stood, refurnished by the lavish hand of +Gregory Dexter. + +And Dexter? During the last year of the war he went down to the front, +on business connected with a proposed exchange of prisoners. Here, +unexpectedly, one day he came upon Ward Heathcote, now in command of a +regiment. + +Colonel Heathcote was not especially known beyond his own division; in +it, he was considered a good officer, cool, determined, and if +distinguished at all, distinguished for rigidly obeying his orders, +whatever they might be. It was related of him that once having been +ordered to take his men up Little Reedy Run, when Big Reedy was plainly +meant--Little Reedy, as everybody knew, being within the lines of the +enemy, he calmly went up Little Reedy with his regiment. The enemy, +startled by the sudden appearance of seven hundred men among their seven +thousand, supposed of course that seventy thousand must be behind, and +retreated in haste, a mile or two, before they discovered their error. +The seven hundred, meanwhile, being wildly recalled by a dozen +messengers, came back, with much camp equipage and other booty, together +with a few shot in their bodies, sent by the returning and indignant +Confederates, one of the balls being in the shoulder of the calm colonel +himself. + +When Dexter came upon Heathcote, a flush rose in his face. He did not +hesitate, however, but walked directly up to the soldier. "Will you step +aside with me a moment?" he said. "I want to speak to you." + +Heathcote, too, had recognized his former companion at a glance. The +two men walked together beyond earshot; then they paused. + +But Dexter's fluency had deserted him. "You know?" he said. + +"Yes." + +"It does not make it any better, I fear, to say that my belief was an +honest one." + +"You were not alone; there were others who thought as you did. I care +little about it now." + +"Still, I--I wish to beg your pardon," said Dexter, bringing out the +words with an effort. Then, having accomplished his task, he paused. +"You are a more fortunate man than I am--than I have ever been," he +added, gloomily. "But that does not lighten my mistake." + +"Think no more of it," answered Heathcote. "I assure you, it is to me a +matter of not the slightest consequence." + +The words were double-edged, but Dexter bore them in silence. They shook +hands, and separated, nor did they meet again for many years. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + + "Love is strong as death. Many waters can not quench love, neither + can floods drown it."--_The Proverbs of Solomon._ + + +The war was over at last; peace was declared. The last review had been +held, and the last volunteer had gone home. + +Two persons were standing on the old observatory floor, at the highest +point of the island, looking at the little village below, the sparkling +Straits, and the blue line of land in the distant north. At least Anne +was looking at them. But her lover was looking at her. + +"It is enough to repay even the long silence of those long years," he +said. + +And others might have agreed with him. For it was a woman exquisitely +and richly beautiful whom he held in his arms, whose tremulous lips he +kissed at his pleasure, until, forgetting the landscape, she turned to +him with a clinging movement, and hid her face upon his breast. Her +heart, her life, her being, were all his, and he knew it. She loved him +intensely. + +"Something may be allowed to a starved man," he had said, the first time +they were alone together after his arrival, his eyes dwelling fondly on +her sweet face. "Do not be careful any more, Anne; show me that you love +me. I have suffered, suffered, suffered, since those old days at +Caryl's." + +On this June afternoon they lingered on the height until the sun sank +low in the west. + +"We must go, Ward." + +"Wait until it is out of sight." + +They waited in silence until the gold rim disappeared. Then they turned +to each other. + +"Your last day alone; to-morrow you will be my wife. Do you remember +when I asked you whether the whole world would not be well lost to us if +we could but have love and each other? We had love, but the rest was +denied. Now we have that also.... Anne, I was, and am still, an idle, +selfish fellow. Whatever change there has been or will be is owing to +you. For you love me so much, my darling, that you exalt me, and I for +very shame try to live up to it." + +He looked at her, and she saw the rare tears in his eyes. + +Then he brushed them away, smiled, and offered his arm. "Shall we go +down now, Mrs. Heathcote?" + +They were married the next morning in the little military chapel. Mrs. +Rankin was at the fort again, Lieutenant Rankin being major and in +command. The other poor wives who had been her companions there were +widows now; the battle-fields round Richmond were drawn with lines of +fire upon their hearts forever. Mrs. Rankin, though but just arrived, +left her household goods unpacked to decorate the chapel with wreaths of +the early green. Miss Teller and Miss Lois, both in such excitement +that they spoke incoherently, yet seemed to understand each other +nevertheless, superintended the preparations at the church-house. + +As a wedding gift, Gregory Dexter sent the same package Anne had once +returned to him; the only addition was a star for the hair, set with +diamonds. + + * * * * * + +"I said that perhaps you would accept these some time" (he wrote). "Will +you accept them now? They were bought for you. It will give me pleasure +to think that you are wearing them. I have no right to offer you a ring; +but the diamond, in some shape, I must give you, as the one imperishable +stone. With unchanging regard, + +"GREGORY DEXTER." + + * * * * * + +"You have no objection?" said Anne, with a slight hesitation in her +voice. + +"No," answered Heathcote, carelessly; "it would hurt him too much if we +returned them. But what a heavily gorgeous taste he has! Diamonds, +sables, and an India shawl!" + +He had never been jealous of Dexter. Why should he be jealous now? + +The new chaplain read the marriage service, but Père Michaux gave the +bride away. Not only the whole village was present, but the whole water +parish also, if not within the chapel, then without. People had begun to +cross from the mainland and islands at dawn, so as to be in time; the +Straits were covered by a small fleet. Miss Teller was the only +stranger, save the bridegroom himself. + +Anne was dressed simply in soft white; she wore no ornaments. Mr. and +Mrs. Heathcote would not be rich; on the contrary, they would begin +their married life with a straitened income, that is, in worldly wealth. +In youth, beauty, and a love so great that it could not be measured in +words, the bridegroom was richer than the proudest king. As for the +bride, one look in her eyes was enough. + +"I, Anne, take thee, Ward, to my wedded husband, to have and to hold, +from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in +sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do +part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my +troth." + +"Anne," said Miss Teller, drawing the new-made wife aside, "I want to +whisper something. I will not tell Ward--men are different. But I want +_you_ to know that Helen's grave is covered with heliotrope in Greenwood +this morning, and that I am sure she knows all, and is glad." + + +THE END. + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Anne, by Constance Fenimore Woolson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANNE *** + +***** This file should be named 32707-8.txt or 32707-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/7/0/32707/ + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project and The Internet Archive.) + + +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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