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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/33499-8.txt b/33499-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..20135d1 --- /dev/null +++ b/33499-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7498 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Stories That End Well, by Octave Thanet + + +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: Stories That End Well + An Adventure in Altruria----Through the Terrors of the Law----The Real Thing----The Old Partisan----Max--Or His Picture----The Stout Miss Hopkins' Bicycle----The Spellbinder----The Object of the Federation----The Little Lonely Girl----The Hero of Company G----A Miracle Play + + +Author: Octave Thanet + + + +Release Date: August 25, 2010 [eBook #33499] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES THAT END WELL*** + + +E-text prepared by Darleen Dove, Roger Frank, Mary Meehan, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) + + + +STORIES THAT END WELL + +by + +OCTAVE THANET + +Author of "The Man of the Hour," "The Lion's Share," "By Inheritance," +Etc. + + + + + + + +New York +Grosset & Dunlap +Publishers + +Copyright 1911 +The Bobbs-Merrill Company + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I AN ADVENTURE IN ALTRURIA + + II THROUGH THE TERRORS OF THE LAW + + III THE REAL THING + + IV THE OLD PARTISAN + + V MAX--OR HIS PICTURE + + VI THE STOUT MISS HOPKINS' BICYCLE + + VII THE SPELLBINDER + + VIII THE OBJECT OF THE FEDERATION + + IX THE LITTLE LONELY GIRL + + X THE HERO OF COMPANY G + + XI A MIRACLE PLAY + + +The stories in this book were originally printed in _Harper's Magazine_, +_Harper's Bazaar_, _The Century Magazine_, _McClure's Magazine_, +_Scribner's Magazine_ and _The Woman's Home Companion_, and to these +periodicals acknowledgements are due for their courtesy in giving +permission for republication. + + + + +STORIES THAT END WELL + + + + +AN ADVENTURE IN ALTRURIA + + +The story came to me through my friend, Mrs. Katherine Biff. Mrs. Biff +is a widow. Her profession--I will not slight her beautiful art by a +lesser word--is that of cook. She cooks for my cousin, Elinor, and it +was during one of Elinor's absences in Europe that Mrs. Biff had her +experience in Altruria, as the supply for Miss Mercedes Van Arden. It +was highly interesting, I think. + +She gave me the episode herself; because, in the first place, I am +Elinor's own cousin (like the rest of the world, she loves Elinor) and +in the second place, she knows that I appreciate her conversation. +Assuredly I do value Katy's freehand sketches of life. She is a shrewd +observer. Often while she talks I recall Stevenson's description of +another: "She is not to be deceived nor think a mystery solved when it +is repeated." + +Katy is an American by birth, but Celtic by race and by nature; a widow +to whom children never were granted, but who out of her savings has +helped educate and settle half a dozen of her nieces and nephews. Katy's +married life was brief and not happy. The late Biff was a handsome man +who never let other people's comforts or rights interfere with his own +pleasure. Nevertheless, when he was killed in a saloon brawl she did not +grudge him many carriages for his last journey (she who believes in +simple funerals. "When I give free rides, I'll give 'em while I'm alive +and can hear folks say 'Thank you!'" says she), and she has erected a +neat stone to his memory. + +It was three years after his death that Mrs. Biff came to Elinor, with +whom she has lived since. + +Elinor, one may say, bequeathed her to the Van Ardens. At least she +suggested them importunately to Katy. To me she explained, "Katy is a +maternal soul, and she can't help taking care of Mercy Van Arden, who is +a stray angel in a wicked world and _thinks_ she is a socialist." + +We are conservative, peaceful, mid-Westerners in our town, and the only +socialists belong to a class that we do not meet nor recognize save by +their names in the papers published preliminary to fiery addresses +delivered at not very reputable tavern halls. Therefore, to have a +cultivated socialist, a young lady of wealth, who regarded her fortune +as a "trust," come to live among us was exciting. Her aunt, from whom +she had recently inherited her fortune, was well known to us, being a +large property owner in the town. She, the late aunt, was not in the +least a socialist; on the contrary, we esteemed her a particularly +shrewd and merciless adept at a bargain. She had a will of her own; and +considering that Miss Mercedes had borne the yoke for ten years, it was +generally considered that she had earned her legacy. + +Under all these conditions of interest, I admit I was glad enough to see +Katy Biff's decent black hat approaching the side door the day after her +entrance into the Van Arden family circle. + + * * * * * + +"Well, Miss Patsy," she began, "I guess you know she's queer; I thought +I knew most of the brands of wine and women, as old Judge Howells used +to say, but this one beats me! I came 'round to the yard--she's hired +the Bateman place, furnished, you know, while the Batemans are towering +in Canada, she and her sister, who's a doctor lady. I hope the doctor'll +be a kinder balance wheel, but she's got a chore! + +"As I was saying, I came 'round the yard, aiming for the kitchen door, +when I heard somebody calling, and there she was opening the front door +to Nellie Small. Don't you remember Nellie Small? She was the Batemans' +waitress for three months--poor young things--and smashed a lot of their +nice wedding presents, the other girl told _me_. She's the kind that +always looks so fine and never dusts the hind legs of the table. I +wasn't none too pleased at the sight of her, but Miss Van Arden, she was +awful polite; took us both right into the _parlor_ and made us set down. +I got worried thinking she'd mistook, and I hesitate a minute and then I +says: + +"'Miss Van Arden, I was going 'round to the kitchen door; I've come to +see about the cook's place.' + +"'I know,' says she right quick, with a little lift of her pretty brown +head. 'I know,' says she, 'you're Mrs. Biff, and you,' says she, smiling +so pretty on that Nellie trash, '_you're_ Miss Small.' + +"'I _am_,' says Nellie, tossing her head. + +"So then she begins; and from that beginning, and calling us in that +way, you can imagine how she went on. She explained that while she was a +poor girl at her aunty's she read a lovely book about an imaginary +country called Altruria; and that the gentleman who wrote it didn't +think we _could_ do that way in this country; she supposed we couldn't, +but she was going to try, and she hoped we would like her and help her. +She didn't know much about housekeeping; she had helped her aunty, but +it was writing letters and doing errands and dusting brac-a-brac (and +she laughed); the only things she knew how to do right well was to dust +and to polish jewelry and make tea. But she hoped to learn; and she had +got all the machinery she could think of; there was an electric washer +and an ironing machine, and a dishwashing machine, and bread and cake +machines, and we ought not to need to work more than eight hours a day. +She didn't believe really in more than six hours a day, but at first +maybe we wouldn't mind eight. + +"I could see that Nellie drinking it all in, getting more topping every +minute. + +"'Miss Van Arden,' says she, 'how about evenings? I'm used to having +_all_ my evenings.' + +"'I ain't, madam,' says I, 'not if there's dinner company. And I know +well enough Nellie ain't, neither.' + +"'I--I could have dinner in the middle of the day,' says Miss Van Arden +real pitiful, 'if it weren't that my sister comes in tired at night and +likes a hot meal; but I've got a fireless stove, and it _might_ be +cooked and left in the fireless stove and we could wait on ourselves.' + +"'I guess that'll be satisfactory,' says Nellie, dipping her head and +smiling a haughty smile, while I was quivering to git a word in Miss Van +Arden's ear. But, of course, there was no chance. And Miss Van Arden, +she went on to say that she didn't eat meat herself, but her sister +liked to have it, so--' + +"'I have to have meat myself,' hops in that Nellie. + +"'Oh, of course,' Miss Van Arden said; she didn't dictate to others, but +personally she didn't eat meat; but she didn't need any special +vegetable dishes made for her. + +"'You shall have 'em if you want 'em, ma'am,' says I; then, 'and I +guess the cook will have something to say about the kitchen table; I +ain't never much on meat myself.' I guess that was one for miss! + +"'Oh, thank you,' says Miss Van Arden real grateful--she's jest as +sweet's they make 'em, Miss Patsy. Then she looked very timidly at +Nellie and the color came into her face. + +"'I should like to have you take your meals with me if--if I were +alone,' she stammers, 'but my sister--we have so little time +together--we'll try not to make much waiting--' She got into a kind of +mess of stammers, when I cut in and told her that we much preferred to +eat in our own pantry, which was big enough for a dining-room. + +"Well, you can guess, Miss Patsy, that about this time I was wishing +myself well out of it all, for I've lived with notional folks before, +and folks who wanted to make friends of their help, and what I like with +strangers is to have them keep their side of the fence and I'll keep +mine; I ain't seeking any patronage from nobody, and I got too much +self-respect not to be respectful. But I'd promised Mrs. Caines; so I +simply told what wages I wanted, and I made 'em reasonable, too. But +Nellie--my! she named a sum two dollars a week more'n she ever'd got and +four dollars more'n she was worth; and for hatred of meddling I sat +still and let that poor little sweet Babe in the Woods agree to it. But +I miss my guess if I have to put up with Nellie long! + +"So we was engaged. Not a word about any day's work in the week or when +she has sweeping done (she said she'd do the dusting herself--and she's +_wise_, with Nellie 'round) or when she had bakings or anything; only +that she'd have a laundress come in three days (eight hours a day) and +do all our washing. We got a room apiece, but we haven't got a bathroom +like at Mrs. Caines', so she told us we could have the guest bathroom. +My! but I wish you'd heard her; and she's just the prettiest thing in +the world and wears the prettiest clothes. Her clothes is all that gives +me hope of her! She said she embroidered her shirt-waist herself; and I +guess if she can sit up and take that amount of notice, she's got the +makings of sense in her! + +"She said could I come that day. I said, 'Yes, ma'am.' + +"'You needn't call me that,' says she; 'I don't care for those little +distinctions.' + +"'If you please, ma'am,' I says, kind but firm, 'they're fitting and +proper and I prefer it, ma'am.' + +"Well, Miss Patsy, I got my first dinner yesterday. I even made the +salad, which belongs to the waitress, but I couldn't risk Nellie Small's +ideas of French dressing _yet_! Miss Patsy, she set her own plate at +table. + +"'Now,' says I, 'let's talk plain United States a minute. Whether that +poor, innercent, looney lady craves our company or not, she ain't going +to git it. When I'm cooking a dinner I ain't dressed up for company. I +want _my_ meals in peace, and you ought to want _yours_; they got their +own gossip, same's us; and whatever Miss Van Arden might be willing to +do, the doctor'll want to have her sister and her friends to herself +without you and me butting in; just as I want my meals to myself without +_them_!' + +"Nellie told me she was just as good as them; and I said I wasn't the +one that had to decide that; goodness was something only the Lord +Almighty got the scales for weighing exact, but I'd bet money, if it +came to sheer, imbecile cleanness of heart and willingness to sacrifice +herself for any old thing, that Miss Van Arden could give us both a long +start and then beat us! But I guessed we'd leave that part out. Sich +things was just business. We got to take the world's we found it. So she +said _she_ wouldn't take the plate off. I said I wasn't proud; wherefore +I took it off myself, and she didn't put no more on, and the sisters had +their meal in peace. She come when the buzzer called her and waited +fairly well--she's bright enough when she wants to be. + +"Doctor? Oh, she's a horse of another color. She's ten years older'n her +sister and ain't seen much of her since their parents died and Miss +Mercy went to live with her aunty, and she seems to set a good deal by +her and be puzzled by her, too. She's got a good appetite and knows good +food. I can git along with _her_ all right. But I mistrust that Nellie, +being so half baked, we'll get our trouble soon! We've a colored man +looks out for the furnace and beats the rugs and tends to the yard and +does chores; he seems a decent sort of man. I got a rise out of Nellie +'bout him, though. She was just _boiling_ and sissing when I remarked, +'You think everybody's as good as everybody else, so I expect you won't +mind having Amos set down with us.' Why, she flew into fifty pieces. +'Eat with a nigger!' she screamed. + +"Of course, I was only fooling, and he was glad enough to get a good +meal in the laundry; he's a real nice, sensible man. But my lady was +off, not so much as putting the dishes in the washing machine. Marched +off with her young man, who's on strike; so he's underfoot most of the +time. That kind makes me tired!" + + * * * * * + +Naturally, after this conversation with Katy I agreed with my sister +that it would be interesting to call; and we planned an early day. It +was, however, even earlier than our plans. + +My chamber (at my sister's house, where I was visiting) is on the side +near the Bateman house; and it happened to be I who first discovered the +smoke volleying out of the Bateman furnace chimney, followed by a +roaring spout of flame. I knew Katy had gone to our little up-town +grocery, for I had seen her on the way; and I made all haste across the +lawn, with all our ice-cream salt. The fire really was easily dealt +with. By the time the firemen arrived (summoned by Nellie), all was over +save the shouting, as they say in the political reports. Amos and Nellie +were still calling "Fire!" Katy arrived a good second to the hose cart, +breathless with running, but all her wits in good order. + +"Long's you've put out the fire, Miss Patsey, I'll put out the fire +department," said she; "they're the only danger. Miss Mercy, you open +all the windows; let's git rid of the smoke. Nellie, what you carrying +your clothes out for?" + +Mercedes quite won our hearts by her docility and the quiet way she +obeyed. Perhaps it was in recognition that Katy became her tower of +refuge when the cause of the fire appeared. It was no less than Amos. He +had been hired without any heartless prying into recommendations, on the +ideal Altrurian ground of Need. He was asked, to be sure, could he run a +furnace, and with the optimism of the African replied that he reckoned +he could. He did not add that he had never tried to run one before. +Doubtless it was natural that he should not discover the meaning of the +cunning chains going through the floors; and when dampers increase the +draft if shut and diminish it if open, who can wonder that Amos should +artlessly shut everything in sight--including the registers? Natural +laws did the rest. + +Amos was very patient, almost tearful. He said he didn't know whatever +Sally would do when he come home outen a job; Sally be'n so satisfied +befo' but he didn't cast no blame on nobody. Sally, it came out later, +was ill. + +"Is it anything infectious?" demanded Mercedes' sister, the doctor, who +by this time was on the scene. + +"I dunno, ma'am; I reckon _'tis_," deprecated Amos. "Hit's a right new +baby, come a week ago, an' she ain't got up yit." + +Then it was while Nellie glibly proposed a new man, a man of assured +efficiency, two years janitor of a "flat," and the brother of a friend; +and Mercedes Van Arden had only bewildered compassion to justify her +desire to forgive the culprit; and Doctor Van Arden frowned, that Katy +spoke the word of power. + +"Doctor," said she, "Amos mayn't know much about the furnace, but he's +a decent, honest man that found my ten cents out on the steps and gave +it to me; and I know how to run furnaces, and I'll learn him. What's +more, I can burn up _all_ the coal, and not smoke up the house or the +neighborhood. And one good thing--if Amos can't run a furnace, he +_knows_ it now, anyhow; there's many a janitor man's been smoking up +flats for years ain't found out _that_ yet. Doctor, I'll answer for Amos +if you ladies will keep him." + +Amos was kept. I fancied that Mercedes was almost as grateful as he. + +After this for a time matters went on in a sufficiently prosaic and +satisfactory manner. We put both of the sisters up in the Monday Club +and the doctor consented to talk to the club on the "Smoke Nuisance" at +our meeting in which we discussed that bane of the housekeeper, under +the startling caption, "The City of Dreadful Night." We asked Mercedes +to embody her own Social Creed in a fifteen-minute paper; but she +pleaded almost with tears that she was simply a student who had not +studied enough to know, only to feel; and she blushed deeply. So she was +reprieved. Meanwhile the doctor (who had been quietly working up a +practise in our town for six years) began to be seen at the bedsides of +divers prominent ladies. + +Several of us asked the sisters to luncheon, to dinner and to bridge +parties. In return, the sisters entertained the club at tea, a function +whereat Katy covered herself with glory, and Nellie graciously consented +to pass plates and listen and break two heavy Colonial goblets--Nellie +was slim and light on her feet, but she surely had a heavy hand. + +Katy came over to borrow our monkey wrench the next morning because +Nellie and the friend whom she had recommended to assist in waiting, had +contrived to loosen a water faucet. She was brimming with criticisms of +this last helper, as well as of Nellie. + +"Did she stay to help wash dishes?" Thus she let her suppressed disgust +explode. "Well, I should _say_! And got extry pay for staying, too, and +had her young man in for supper afterward; and the things she gave him +to carry away, the fancy candies with bow-knots on them, and the cakes +with roses, and the _marionglasyes_! And when I spoke up to her she +claimed Miss Mercy _told_ her to--and there's no saying, maybe she did! +Her young man's on strike; he's at the locomotive works; she claims he +gits four-fifty a day and he's striking for more, I expect; he's been on +strike six weeks now, and he comes here to meals four times a week and +eats--well, Miss Mercy said, 'Make him welcome,' so I do; but I own to +you, Miss Patsy, something I feel real bad about. That young Mr. Gordon, +it's his pa is president of the works; he's a real nice young man jest +out of Harvard College, and he met Miss Mercy in Chicago and went 'round +a lot with her, and I made up my mind and Nellie made up hers--and she +ain't a fool, Nellie, for all she's so flighty--that they were going to +make a match of it; but Nellie got Miss Mercy to promise she'd go speak +to old Mr. Gordon about the strike; Miss Mercy's got a awful lot of +stock herself, in the works; and I dunno the rights of it, but I'm sure +those young things had _words_! It's a bitter black shame, too, it is, +dragging that poor child in! Doctor don't like it any more than I do. +And poor little Miss Mercy, she's scared to death; but _that_ won't stop +her; the more it hurts, the more she is sure she had ought to do it." + +I didn't think little Miss Van Arden could move old Mr. Gordon's +convictions; but it was true that she was the largest individual +stockholder in the works, and hence she might make trouble with the +wavering minds, certainly trouble enough to irritate the president, who +was a sterling, but not always a patient man. + +"They want to run the works as a closed shop, don't they?" I asked. + +"Jest that. Miss Mercy, if she _is_ a reforming lady, she ain't +arrergant like most sich; and she asked me what I thought about the +strike. She got my opinion of it cold. 'There's strikes and strikes,' +says I. 'Strikes for higher wages may be right or wrong, as depends, but +a strike for the right to keep every other man but your gang out of a +job is bound to be wrong. I ain't no sympathy with any kind of closed +shops, whether the bosses close 'em to union men, or the union men close +'em to everybody 'cept themselves.'" + +The next day I saw the little Socialist's white, miserable face go by my +window with Katy's solid cheer at her elbow. She had agreed to see Mr. +Gordon first before she appeared at the board meetting, and (as Katy put +it) "poured coal oil on the fire to put it out." Of course, there was a +useless journey. Mr. Gordon felt moved to utter certain pet opinions of +his own regarding the ease of making mischief when ignorant people +interfered in business. If it was any comfort to her to know that she +was giving him an infernal lot of trouble she could take it all right; +but he had to do right according to his own conscience, and not hers, +and he wished her good-morning. Very limp and dejected she departed. + +"'The worst of it is,' she says to me, Katy related, 'the worst of all +is, while I believe he ought to do what the men want rather than keep up +the strike, I don't really feel _sure_ they ought to want him to do it. +It's so hard on the outside men.' Oh, she's got some sense straying +about her, though it's mainly lost to view. But I do wish she could make +it up with her beau. He ain't been 'round for a week; and when folks +ain't got a meat diet they can't stand the strain of being crossed in +love!" + +Even Katy's Celtic loyalty was staggered the next week. She came over on +a perfectly needless borrowing errand to tell me. + +"Did you see it, ma'am? Being my afternoon out, I wasn't there. Did +_you_ see that woman tumble down on our grass and herself run out with +Amos and Mrs. Kane?" (Mrs. Kane was the laundress, who acted also as +scrubwoman once a week, Nellie's health not being equal to the weekly +cleaning required in a tidy household.) "Did you see it? I began to +sniff the minute I struck the hall. My word! I knowed it. Then I begun +to hear the groans--_'O-o-ah! O-o-ah!'_ mumbling, grumbling kind of +groans--I didn't need anything more to get next to that situation, no, +ma'am. Mrs. Kane come tumbling down-stairs. You know her, Miss Patsy, +Tim Kane's widow, a fair-to-middling laundress and next door to a fool +about everything else. Jest the kind that gits a good husband like +Timothy and then fools away the money he leaves her and has to come on +the wash tub. Down-stairs she comes--wild! The poor woman, they'd seen +her fall outside, and Miss Mercy and she'd taken her in on a mattress +with Amos to help; Amos wanted to call the amberlance, but Miss Mercy +said no, they'd take her to the police; so they three took the poor +creature into the house. And 'Oh, hear her groan!' I said, yes, she was +easy to hear. I guess Amos felt all right; but you know niggers are +biddable, and whatever they think, the creatures do like they're told. + +"Well, I walked up-stairs. She was there in the guest chamber on one of +the twin beds with the flowery card, 'Sleep gently in this quiet room,' +etcetery, over the towsledest head and _sech_ skirts! She'd been having +a time for sure. Herself had put a wet ice bandage on the woman's head +and a hot-water bag to her feet, and she was a-laying her hands, her own +pretty, soft, little, white, trembling hands, to her awful shoes, but +says _I_: + +"'You _stop_! Don't you tech her!' + +"'I must,' says she; 'they're soaked.' + +"'Don't you see what's the matter of her?' say I. 'She's dead drunk!' + +"I reckoned she'd deny it. Not a bit. 'I suppose so,' says she; 'that's +why I wouldn't let them call the amberlance.' + +"'And do you mean to keep her _here_?' says I. 'That drunken rubbish?' + +"Well, she does; she was awful sorry for the trouble to us, but the +woman fell down at her door, and she was in dire misery, and Miss Mercy +she felt she had _got_ to take her in. My word, Miss Patsy, I had to +shet my teeth a minute to keep back my feelings, but every word I said +was: 'I guess you better move that other bed out and then you can _burn_ +this one!' Heavens, I ain't going to describe the next hour till the +doctor come. Now, she's laying comfortable in the doctor's gown, in that +nice clean bed, and I've made her chicken broth and mustard plasters and +everything else for her comfort. + +"When the doctor come, she said, 'This goes the limit,' and then she bit +off the rest and swallered it and said, 'We'll have to scrub her.' And +we did--with washing powder and scouring soap. I hope it hurt, but I'm +'fraid it didn't." + +"How does Nellie take it?" + +The sorely tried Mrs. Biff grinned. "'Tis that keeps me from quite +sinking; she is most dretful horrified and vowing she's going to leave." + +However, Nellie did not go; it was the castaway whom they had succored +who awoke in her right mind before any one was stirring the next +morning, clothed herself, for lack of her own rags (which were airing in +the back yard), in a decent brown dress, cloak and hat of the doctor's +from the guest-room closet, put on the doctor's large, serviceable +boots, and gathering the loose silver and three one-dollar banknotes +left in Katy's cash box, otherwise her "cup" from the pantry shelf, +departed into the unknown nether world from whence she came. + +"And a mercy she didn't murder us in our beds!" opined Nellie; "maybe +she will yet!" + +Nellie's prophecy appeared less grotesque the following week when her +young man, Phil, by Christian name--I did not come to know his +surname--discovered at the police station or the engine house (he +frequenting both places in his wealth of leisure) that the castaway had +escaped from a quarantined house full of smallpox, in a little hamlet +near by. Here was a situation! Nellie vowed she wouldn't sleep a wink +were she Mrs. Kane or Amos, particularly Amos, because colored folk took +naturally to smallpox. + +Amos only grinned; but Mrs. Kane was palpably nervous and began +inquiring into symptoms of what Nellie termed "the dread disease." + +Presently she was feeling them faithfully. And Katy shrugged the +shoulder of scorn. But scorn turned into consternation by Monday, for +an agitated neighbor came to the front door to announce that Mrs. Kane +was sick in bed with an awful fever and broke out terrible, and would +the doctor please step over there. + +"And all the clothes in the suds!" sighed Katy. "But that's nothing. +Poor Miss Mercy! she's almost out of her mind; she says that _she's_ to +blame; she's brought smallpox on that innocent woman, and most like +she'll die; and if she hadn't been so wicked and headstrong and had +listened to her friend (she didn't name nobody, but I know she means +young Gordon) and her sister, it wouldn't have happened; she hadn't even +helped the woman who fetched the smallpox; she'd only tempted her to +crime! And what should she say to poor Mrs. Bateman? Nobody wanted to +rent her home to be a pest-house. And she'd set the house afire by +hiring an ignorant man--Oh, she was a wicked girl! Her aunty often told +her she was a fool, and oh, why hadn't she believed her and not tried to +do things too big for her senseless head? And she's been fairly crying +her eyes out. The poor, sweet, humble-minded little thing!" + +Poor little Mercy! But I was to pity her much more during the succeeding +ten minutes. Amos came out to the barberry hedge to tell our cook that +Miss Mercy was in bed and he 'lowed she'd smallpox. He was off in +pursuit of the doctor, who was at Mrs. Kane's who'd got a fearful bad +case. Hardly was Amos out of sight than Nellie, in her cheap imitation +of the latest fashion of big hat, dashed out of the gate after the +street car. So do rats desert the sinking ship, I thought. Straightway I +went over to the house. Katy herself answered the bell. She was in two +minds about ejecting me by force, but she softened when I recalled to +her how recently I had been vaccinated. + +"Well, Miss Patsy, that's _so_," she admitted, "and besides, I ain't +absolutely sure _'tis_ smallpox. But she'd a kinder chill and I wouldn't +let her come down-stairs. Say, you don't happen to have seen Nellie +anywhere?" + +When I told her, she drew a long sigh. We were standing at the side +door, where a great Norway fir shakes its blue-green shadows. + +"'Tis like her," said Katy bitterly, "and only yesterday Miss Mercy gave +her sech a pretty waist. And now she's run off and Miss Mercy's got the +smallpox--mebbe. Well, I dunno as it's as dangerous as Alterruria, and +mebbe one will cure the other--Oh, _say_! Look, Miss Patsy!" + +I looked. They came in a kind of rush with the flutter of brilliant +autumn leaves, swirling around the house corner--Nellie and young Ralph +Gordon. Nellie's cheeks were blazing, but young Gordon looked white and +stern. + +"Why, Nellie Small, ain't you run away?" cried Katy. + +Before Nellie could retort, the young gentleman took the limelight. + +"Where is Miss Mercy?" he demanded in that tone of voice which the +novelists call "tense;" "I must say a few words to her. You can let me +say them through the door, if you wish, Mrs. Biff." + +Katy hardly considered; her eyes shone into his masterful face. She +turned on her heel and he followed her. Instantly Nellie's excitement +found burning words: "I _heard_ her, Miss McFarlin! She thinks I ran +away! _Me!_ Well, I know she has a mean opinion of me, but I didn't +expect she'd be that unjust. I'm jest as fond of Miss Mercy as she is; +I only sprinted down the street to ketch her young man, because I know +they had a misunderstanding, and I was sure, no matter how mad he was, +the minute I told him, he'd come a-running, and whether they let her see +him or not, it would cheer her up a whole lot to know he tried. And as +for Mrs. Biff's pitying Miss Mercy and finding fault with her, _I_ can +tell you she's made me believe things Mrs. Biff nor nobody else could if +she offered me the kingdom of heaven and a chromo! I never believed +before rich folks _could_ be like her. I don't know what that Altrury of +hers is, but if _she_ believes in it _I'm_ going to; and so is Phil, and +he's going to make them stop the strike, too; and it's a whole lot +because of what she's said and what I've said 'bout her. It is, for +fair!" + +Thereupon Nellie burst into tears, and disappeared behind the kitchen +lattice. + +Later, some hours later, I had a chance to tell Katy. But it was then no +news to her. She shook her philosophic head. "'Lightning and grace,' +Biff used to say, 'you can't noways bet on, for there's no manner of +knowing _where_ they'll strike.' Now that Nellie, she fairly bu'st into +Miss Mercy's room, me being busy seeing Mr. Gordon safe outer the +house; and I expected to find she'd riz Miss Mercy's temperature; but +she'd most cured her instid; and Miss Mercy she set up and laffed out +loud. And she ain't got smallpox, neither, not a bit; no more'n that +ijit Sallie Kane, who's down with German measles and nothing wuss. I +guess we was all more scared than hurt. But it beats all about +Nellie--well, I want to be fair to all, she's been doing the sweeping +better for a good while. All I say is, if Alterruria can convert Nellie +Small there must be something decent in Alterruria." + +"I wish it might convert all of us--a _little_," said I. "I'm afraid I'm +not enlightened enough to desire entire conversion; it would demand a +new incarnation!" + + + + +THROUGH THE TERRORS OF THE LAW + +A STORY OF ARKANSAS + + +Sist' Esmeralda Humphreys was not present at the meeting of Zion +Hard-shell Baptist Church. It is questionable whether there had been any +such meeting had she been likely to attend, since how to dispense with +the ministry of Sister Humphreys was its object, and the sister was a +woman of power. But she had gone to the store for her semi-annual +settlement of account. Therefore the disaffected in Zion raised their +heads, perceiving that their hour was come. + +The "church-house" (of a week-day the school-house) crowned a gentle +rise of ground on the outskirts of an Arkansas plantation. It was backed +by the great gum forests, where the sun rose, while on one side, winding +toward the reddening evening skies, the cypress slash had eaten its way +through the brown clay to the Black River. Full of mystery and uncanny +beauty was the slash, its sluggish gleam of water creeping darkly under +solemn cypresses and monstrous hackberry-trees, tinseled with cow-lilies +in summer, spattered with blood-red berries in winter, green with +delicate beauty when the cypress is in leaf, or gray and softly brown +when its short-lived foliage falls. Did one care to deal in mystical +analogy, one might find in the slash suggestions of the African's +undeveloped soul, where brute and child still battle for mastery. + +It was a school-house for children of the darker race only, and only +negroes were in the little band whose hymns penetrated the wide sweep of +cotton-fields, the weird African cadences wilder and more mournful than +the hoot-owl's oboe keening in the forest. To-night the house was but +sparsely filled by the regular worshipers, Zion congregation proper. +Brother Zubaeel Morrow presided, because he had once attended a district +Republican convention, where he had imbibed parliamentary lore. + +"Dis meetin' will please come to ordah," he announced; "is you-all ready +fo' de question?" + +"W' are question, Bruddah Morrow?" called out a brother in the rear +seats. + +"Bruddah Carroll, you is out of ordah. Whenst I git in dis cheer an take +dis gabble,"--he extended the hatchet used, before its promotion, to +chop kindling,--"take notice, I is de _Cheer_; you-all is to 'dress me +as 'Mist' Cheerman.' You is axin' 'bout de question: de question is, +Shall Sist' Esmereldy Humphreys continner to usu'p de rights of we-alls +pastor? Ain't dat the onderstandin' of dis here awjence?" + +Signs of approval and assent came from the audience. The chairman, +rising, took the attitude of the white speaker whom he had admired most +at the convention, plunging one hand into the bosom of his +coat--buttoned for that purpose--and gazing solemnly about him. All the +colored population of the country-side were proud of the school-house, +which was painted a neat lead color as to wood-work and brown as to +walls; with red lettering done by a member who had followed the +painter's trade (although not very far), declaring piously on the west +wall, "The Lord will provide," and politely requesting on the east wall, +"Please do not spit on the floor." A stately blackboard behind the +teacher's desk showed her excellent moral sentiments and penmanship. +There was no carpet on the floor, but it was clean and the windows +glistened. + +"Dis yere school-house, dis yere chu'ch-house, are a credit to de cullud +ladies an' gen'l'men of Zion Baptis' Chu'ch," declaimed Brother Morrow, +sonorously, "an' we-all had orter have a pastor who w'u'd--we'd +correspond. I ain't sayin' one word of disparaguement of our late +deseased pastor. He be'n a good, pious man" ("Amen!" from two half-grown +lads in the rear), "but he had a terrible sight of losses an' troubles, +losin' all of his chillen like he done; an' him sick such a spell befo' +de Lawd called him f'om grace to glory. Mabbe he didn't be'n eloquent +like the supply we had, but Elder W'ite had nare right to git Sist' Lucy +Tompkins to run 'way wid 'im, f'om 'er good, kin', respectable husban'" +(a little crumpled, elderly negro raised his head with an air of modest +pride), "an' he done borry two dollars an' fifty cents of de cheer dat I +don't expec' nothin' of ontwel de jedgment day! So w'en our pastor +passed away we'all was like sheep outen a shepherd; an' we'en Sist' +Humphreys done offah to keep de' chu'ch-house clean an' cyah on de +services of Zion, an' make no cha'ges, we-all acceptid." + +"Mist' Cheerman,"--a grizzled negro in decent black held up a +finger,--"Mist' Cheerman, was hit Sist' Humphreys keep dis 'ouse dis +away?" + +"Yes, Bruddah Moore; she are a right good scrubber," admitted the +chairman, while the congregation stared at the speaker, the richest +colored man in the county, who had moved into the neighborhood recently, +this being his first appearance in Zion. + +"Fo' a spell," continued the chairman, "t'ings went on suspiciously +enough. Sist' Humphreys be'n an edicated lady; an' she is a plumb good +cook. Her preachin' didn't be'n whut we-all air longin' to heah; nare +shakin' of de soul ovah de mouf of hell, nare mo'nin', nare revivals; +but we hilt our peace, an' Zion attendid regular, an' las' socherable +gatherin' there be'n nigh a hunderd, big an' little, presint--" + +"And she gave us all cake and candy and lemonade with ice in it!" a +woman's mellow voice called out. + +The heads of the congregation went round in the direction of the voice, +and a large number of rolling black eyes stared at the school-teacher, +whose comely brown face showed that deepening of tint which is the same +as an Anglo-Saxon's blush. "Teacher" had been educated at Tuskegee and +was suspected of being "biggity." + +The chairman gave her a gloomy nod. "No doubt, my sistah, no doubt +hankerin' ayfter de flesh-pots of Egypt done fotch _some_ po' sinnahs t' +de altar. I ain't complainin' of de carnil an' carniferous food she done +give us, but of de spitichul nu'ishment. I nev' did see a mo'ner rollin' +on dis flo' w'ilst Sist Humphreys be'n yere. We-all be'n thirstin' an' +famishin' fo' a good ol'-time revival. But we enjured ontwel one day de +glory come on Br'er Pope, an' he hollered,--tryin' to lif' us all +up,--Amen! Amen! Let de sinner quit sinnin' an' he _shill_ be saved!' +An' dat ar woman she call out: 'Yes; _let_ 'im quit sinnin'! Let 'im +quit sellin' of aigs to de sto' w'en he don't be keepin' only one hen!' +Dat ar remark incinerated false an' wicked notions 'bout Unc' Alick +Pope, who lives nigh de cunnel's chicken-yard." (A solitary giggle +from the shoolmistress.) "She done fa'ly r'ar an' charge 'bout +chicken-stealin'. Dat ain't promote edderfication nor good feelin'." +(Groans of assent from a deeply interested audience.) "But nex' +Sabbath come wuss. She done announce she be'n 'lowin' to preach us a +serious discourse on de Ten Commandmints. Well, we-all done look dem +commandmints up an' study on dem a heap. We felt tol'able secure on de +Fust an' Second, she lumpin' dem togedder fo' one out at preachin'; an' +we sat back easy, hopin' fo' grace an' true religion; but she jes slued +roun' on to conjure-cha'ms an' such, invagin' ag'in' dem twell we got +all de devotional feelin' plumb squoze outen us. Third Commandmint we +natchelly didn't expec' no harm of; but ayfter de fust godly words 'bout +profane sw'arin', ef she didn't git on to false sw'arin' befo' the gran' +jury, 'bout crap-shootin', en git us all terrible oncomfortable. Nex' +command she didn't be'n sound on, sayin' a heap 'bout washin' up in tubs +Sattiddy nights, an' tew little 'bout de spitichul ovservation of the +holy day; an' come down hard on a respectid brother who sayd once, 'I +isn't to wash in winter'; an' sayd bad wuds 'bout sisters dat went +visitin' Sattiddy evenin's, stidder washin' up ready fo' de holy day; +sayd some sisters nev' did wash de po' little tricks' shirts, jes' taken +a new flour-sack an' cut holes in it. She talked like dat ontwel it be'n +right ondecent and onchristian; an' one sister dat's subjec' to fits +providenchelly done t'rowed one an' bruk up de meetin'. But we-all +sorter done spunk up on de Fif' Commandmint; looked lak _hit_ be'n sho' +harmliss; an' we done fotch de chillen to learn deir juty to deir +parents. Well, dey sho' _got_ it! But den she done scorched de parents +mightily 'bout de 'zample dey be'n bleeged to set de chillen. Dat ar +be'n a fearful, sufferin' hour, an' I nev' did see dis yere congregation +so dry an' havin' to git out de pump so often. Dey went by whole +famblies; an' befo' she be'n frow mighty nigh ever' las' chil' b'en +taken outside. We didn't _dast_ let 'em see frow it." (Groans all over +the house.) "She nigh bust de chu'ch on de Sixth Commandmint wid +outrageous rema'ks on _razors_. An' nex' Sunday comes de Seventh +Commandmint, an' we ain't nowise willin to enjure her handlin' of _dat_, +nohow." (Deep groans of assent from brothers and sisters alike.) "Nor de +Eight', neider." ("No, _no_!" from the seat of Uncle Alexander Pope.) +"Wust is, de ongodly outside, de Methodists an' de cullud folks from de +Ridge, is fixin' to come over an' see we-all ripped up. De chu'ch house +be'n plumb full ever' Sabbath, an' we-all don' dast stay 'way, not +knowin' what scandillous stories will be circulated." ("Dat's so!" +"Holp, Lord!" from earnest souls in the audience.) "An' de chu'ch is +losin' of members. Bruddah Dan Williams done moved away." ("No, sah, no, +he ain't; he b'en sent to de pen!") "I didn't say how come he moved, +Brudder Carroll; he are _gone_. Unc' Jim Hollis done 'bandon his crop. +Aunt Caledonia Ray lef' las' week 'count of injur'us reflections 'bout a +mince pie she done mix up by mistake wid de week's wash she taken fum de +big house. We done pled wid Sist' Humphreys to quit; but she won't quit. +Now de question am: How shill we git saved f'om Sist' Humphreys an' git +a preacher will preach religion--_an' nuffin else_?" + +Amid a deep hum of applause Brother Morrow sat down. Half a dozen voices +begged for attention; but the chair recognized Sister Susannah Belle +Coffin. Sister Susannah was of exceeding comeliness and a light-brown +complexion. If report spake truly, there was no one in Zion who had more +reason to dread a fearless and minute exposition of the demands of the +Seventh Commandment. She had started her career as a destroyer of +domestic peace with a capital of good looks, a gift for cookery, a voice +of silver, and two small unpremeditated children. "A single pussen like +me wid two chillen," would be her plaintive excuse for demanding the +good offices of the brothers in cutting wood or "palin' in her gyardin"; +and too often, under the spell of Susannah's eyes and Susannah's voice +and Susannah's cooking, the end of an innocent neighborly kindness was a +jealous wife and a "parting." Sometimes Susannah wedded the departing +husband, sometimes she flouted him; but steadily, single or wedded, +Susannah's little garden-plot grew more beautiful, Susannah's kitchen +range accumulated a more dazzling array of tin and copper, and +Susannah's best room was more splendidly bedecked with curtains, +pillow-shams, and a gilt mirror. + +At present speaking, the dark enchantress was the lawful wedded wife of +the young blacksmith, and the whole plantation had admired to see her +enter the holy estate in white Swiss muslin and a voluminous veil which +she utilized, later, as a window-curtain. She now inquired with much +pleasing modesty of mien: "I jes want to ask, Mist' Cheerman, how're +we-all to git Sist' Humphreys to go if she don' wanter?" + +Sighs, allied to groans, bore testimony that she had voiced the +forebodings of the audience. But a visiting brother who had the courage +of his non-residence, came to the front; he suggested that a letter be +sent to the sister, announcing the sense of the meeting, saying that the +congregation was not edified by her ministrations and that the +church-house would be closed until a new pastor had been selected. + +"De motion, as de cheer un'erstands it, are to dismiss Sist' Esmeraldy +Humphreys an' shet de do's on her," said the chairman. "Is--what is it, +Sist' Macklin?" + +He spoke kindly, and the woman whom he addressed seemed in need of +kindness, since she was trembling visibly. She was a little creature in +the pathetic compromise for mourning which poverty makes with grief--her +accustomed winter jacket of brown, but with a somber garnishment of +crape, black ribbons on her old gray hat, and a black border to her +handkerchief. + +The congregation looked at her, pityingly, as she began in the +high-pitched voice of the unaccustomed speaker: + +"Bruddah Morrow--I mean Bruddah Cheerman, I are right mortified Sist' +Humphreys done chastice you all; but I jest got to b'ar my testimony +you-all are mistaken 'bout her bein' crool. Oh, dear bruddahs an' +sistahs, she ain't! You-all knows my--my boy"--she choked over the word, +and the hearers waited in mute and awkward compassion, because her boy, +the last of her children, had been hanged at the little county-seat only +a month before for the murder of his wife--"my boy w'u'dn't repent; he +w'u'dn't do nuffin but cuss de woman dat fotch him dar an' den nebber so +much look at him. I spen' ever' las' cent I had on earth to try git him +off, an' I taken de jail wash, I did, to be nigh 'im an' mabbe git him a +bite like he's uster to eat; but he w'u'dn't paht lips wid me; sayd I +be'n a good mudder to him, but he didn't want to h'ar me beggin' an' +pleadin' wid 'im to repent an' make peace wid God. Oh, I did be'n in de +brack water, wadin' _deep_! Look laak I c'u'dn't enjure hit nohow. I +reckon I does nebber be able to see so well 'cause I cry so stiddy dem +days. An' all de cry of my po' ol' hairt be'n, 'O Lawd, I don' no mo' ax +you to save his life, but, O Lawd, _don'_ let 'im die cussin'! Fotch 'im +'ome! I kin b'ar hit to have 'im go, if he sho' goes whar he kin be good +an' be happy an' be safe; fo' I does know dat boy nev' did aim to be +mean.' An' w'en my hairt be'n broke wid longin' an' mis'ry, Sist' +Humphreys she come. She done holp me all fru; an' now she went to my +boy; he _hatter_ see her. I don' know w'at she say; but she come back to +me an' say, 'Praise God, dat po' sinnah hab foun' peace an' joy--an' he +want his mudder!' An' I did come. An' he putt his po' haid on my knees +jes lak w'en he be'n a li'le boy an' uster laff 'bout de big +kin'lin'-pile he allers keep fo' his mammy. An' Sist' Humphreys, some +way she git dem jailer-men be so kin' an' tender to 'im, lak I cayn't +noways tell. An' he did die happy. De Lawd sustain him, an' he sustain +me. Blessed be de name of de Lawd, an' blessed be dat 'oman dat is his +ministah!" + +She sank down in her seat and wept quietly, while the impressionable +African temperament sent forth pious ejaculations: "Holp, Lawd!" "Fotch +comfort!" "Bless de mo'nahs!" The schoolmistress was in tears, and the +stalwart young man near her openly wiped his eyes. Brother Moore bent +his brows; even Brother Morrow winked hard: but Sister Susannah's +emotion was most in evidence; she was sobbing violently into a +pink-embroidered handkerchief. Presently she rose to her feet. Now +Susannah was the woman who had lured the wretched murderer through a +brutal passion to a brutal crime, and the eyes of the congregation were +focused upon her. + +"Bruddahs, sistahs," said Susannah, in her wonderful voice, with its +chords of plaintive music, which made her hearers grin out of sheer +emotion, "I nev' did aim to do dat po' young man hurt; but he sayd +t'ings to me, t'ings"--she sighed and hung her head--"he hadn't orter +have sayd, him bein' a married man; an' I be'n right mad at him, an' I +own up I done him right onchristian an' onmussiful, for I didn't show no +sympathy or even go see 'm hanged. Now, I do repent. But it ain't nare +preachin' of Sist' Humphreys done give me a brokin an' a contrary hairt. +Her scorchin' don' make me mo'n. Hit cakes up my hairt. She nev' did +have one single revival. Rev. Bulkely of de Ridge he does have a mighty +big one ever' spring; you kin hear de screeches 'mos' a mile! He tol' me +hisse'f he w'u'd be willin' to minister a spell to dis sorely tried +flock, an', mo'-ovah, he tol' me dat we-all _c'u'dn't_ have Sist' +Humphreys nor no woman preach to us; for it be'n ag'in' de rule of de +Baptis' Chu'ch. Hit be'n forbid. We cayn't be Baptis' an' keep Sist' +Humphreys." + +With meek grace Susannah resumed her seat and the sheltering support of +the blacksmith's arm. She had won. Now that a way of escape was +opened,--a way, moreover, ending in a dazzling vista of a "big +revival,"--no sympathy for the Widow Macklin could induce Zion to face +the fiery chariots of the Seventh Commandment driven by Sister +Humphreys. + +In spite of the schoolmistress' eloquence and the stumbling speech of +two boys who tried to tell that Sister Humphreys had done a heap for +them, when the vote was put, only six of the forty-eight persons present +voted to retain the preacher. Brother Moore declined to vote. + +Susannah watched the downcast faces of Sister Humphreys' supporters +through her half-shut eyes and smiled her languid, mysterious smile. + +But of a sudden one of the two striplings who had spoken for Sister +Humphreys left his place by the window and ran to the door. + +With instant premonition of peril, the flock of Zion turned on the +benches. A deep intake of breath signified their dismay as there entered +a tall brown woman in widow's weeds. She cast a calm, full eye over the +faces under the lamplights--faces already stricken awry with fear; for, +notwithstanding their numbers and apparent strength of position, dread +of the pastor insisted, as light insists through closed eyelids. + +Sister Humphreys walked with no pause to the platform. Brother Morrow +was so short a man and she was so tall a woman that her handsome head +towered above his. She was a brown negro, but her lighter color and her +regular features and thinner, more sensitive lips were due to no +admixture of white blood; they came from a dash of the yellow races +mixed long before her time in the Old World, where her ancestors were +barbaric princes. She stood with the incomparable grace that is given +sometimes to the bearer of burdens, tall, erect, shapely. She spoke in a +mellow rich voice not raised a note above its speaking tone. + +"Is this heah a meetin'?" gently interrogated Sister Humphreys of +Brother Morrow, "or have you-all done aju'ned?" + +"We done aju'ned, sistah," Brother Morrow replied quickly, flinching +from a possible trap. + +"In that case," Sister Humphreys argued at once, "will you kindly take +you' seat an' let me speak fo' de las' time to Zion Baptis' Chu'ch?" + +It was impossible to refuse a hearing. Brother Morrow shuffled into a +lower seat. + +"My people,"--a vague, incomprehensible thrill of apprehension and +magnetic fascination stirred the attentive faces, all save the widow +Macklin's; hers was bent on her own withered, toil-crooked hands while +she prayed,--"I want to say, first, that I nev' did aim to keep _on_ +hu'tin' you' feelin's. But I am 'bleeged to save you' souls. You-all +know how my po' husban' toiled an' prayed. Thar's ol' people who loved +him an' followed his teachin's, but they went to their reward, an' he +was lef' with a generation of young niggers who feared neither God nor +man nor the grand jury--lying, stealing, with no more morals than pigs +an' no great cleaner. It broken my po' ol' man's heart, so he hadn't no +strength to stand the breast complaint, so he died. The last night I +heard him praying for you, an' I come to him. When he looked up at me I +knowed I couldn't hold him; I knowed he ain't never again goin' look up +at me with the light in his eyes an' the love in his smile like he +looked then. An' I sayd to him, 'Silas, honey, don' you worry 'bout that +there wuthless flock of yours. _I'll_ save 'em. I know the way. I sho' +do!' An' he believed me; because of his believing me his end was peace. +So you see, my people, I am 'bleeged to save you. I tol' him I know the +way; I do know it. You' pastor, who is a saint in heaven, done used +always the ways of gentleness. He preached the love of God, an' you +swallered it down, smiling and happy; an' it ain't done you-all no mo' +good than stick candy does do a person that done taken poison an' needs +wahm water an' mustard. What you-all needed didn't be'n loving kindness, +but the terrors of the law, an' not _strained_, neider. An' if it takes +the las' day of my pilgrimage, you'll git 'em till you _begin_ to repent +an' show works _meet_ for repentence. But when you _begin_ to repent, +the word of mercy will come. 'Cause when the prodigal son be'n a _long +way off_, his father come a-runnin' to him. Now, hark to me: I went this +evening to the cunnel. He explained to me about the Baptis' +dis-_cip_-line." (A ripple of excitement in the audience.) "In +consequence, this chu'ch will hereayfter be the _Methodis'_ Zion Chu'ch. +That is why I am speaking fo' the las' time to Zion _Baptis'_ Chu'ch. +Ayfter to-night there won't be no Zion Baptis' Chu'ch. There ain't no +great differ_ence_ in doctrine, an' the dis-_cip_-line is more +convenient. Any brother or sister desiring it, an' not in danger of +catching col', can be immersed. The cunnel an' I done talked this over; +an' he done rented this chu'ch-house to _me_. If the congregation ain't +satisfied, they got to take to the woods. I also got one word mo' to +say: it is that the work of grace in this community is a right smart +hampered by the evil doings of Sister Susannah Coffin." + +Susannah and her husband were both on their feet, both ready to speak; +but something in the attitude of the figure on the platform to which the +long lines of the mourning-veil gave a strange suggestion of sibylline +dignity, held speech away from them. Solemnly and not with any anger, +Sister Humphreys' eyes searched the eyes of the man and woman before +her, while the spectators held their breath. "Wherefo' it is bettah +ever' way," she said slowly, "that both her an' her husband go out from +us fo'evermo'. Bruddah Coffin, the cunnel has got another blacksmith, +an' you ain't got no mo' reason fo' stayin' on longer. And as fo' you, +_Sister_--" + +"I won't go!" shrilled Susannah, hysterically weeping; it was with no +pretense now. "You cayn't fo'ce me!" + +"You _will_ go, _Sister_, fo' you don' wanter lose the young man you got +now. You will go; an' you will take him along of you; an' you will go +_so far_ he cayn't heah no word of my sermons. Go in peace." + +Susannah faced about, writhing between fear and rage. "You cowards! you +ornery, pusillanimous cowards!" she flung back at the gaping black +faces. "You putt on dog when she ain't heah, but minute she lif's her +han', you cayn't make a riffle! Ba-h-h! S-sh!" she hissed at them like a +cat or a snake. "Come on, you fool nigger!" she jeered, pulling at her +bewildered husband's collar; and in this sorry fashion, but still with +her head high, she left Zion for ever. + +"An' now," concluded Sister Esmeralda Humphreys sedately, "let us all +try fo' to lead a bettah life. I shall preach nex' Sunday on the +_Seventh_ Commandment, an' all them that feels they have broke that +commandment is at free liberty to stay away. I shall expec' to see all +the res' of you, even if 'tis fallin' weader. Let us all sing befo' we +go: + + "'Blest be the tie that binds + Our hearts in Christian love; + The fellowship of kindred minds + Is like to that above.'" + +Brother Moore arose. "Sist' Humphreys," he announced, "you got de right +kin' o' gospil light in you. I cayn't jine in the singin' 'cause since I +got my store teef I ain't be'n able to cyar' a chune; but I want to do +sumfin de wuk er grace; an' I got up to say dat de nex' socherble +gatherin' I'll donate de lemons." + +"Dis meetin' accep's with t'anks," shouted Brother Morrow. "Now, le's +show our beloved pastor the clouds is swep' away! _All_ sing!" + +And never had so noble a burst of melody wakened the echoes along the +moonlit road as that which made the colonel outside turn, smiling, in +his saddle. + +"She didn't need me," he mused. "Well, so much the better. I reckon they +need a good despot, and they've got one, all right." + + + + +THE REAL THING + + +The club had gone, save only the guest of the afternoon and a few +friends of the hostess, who lingered to congratulate her. It had been a +most successful meeting. The guest who had spoken was the president of a +southern club. The hearers were warm in their praises of the leisurely +music of her southern voice, the charm of her southern manner, so simple +and direct and sympathetic, her beauty, her grace, even of the finish of +her toilet. She had handled a weighty subject with a light touch (it was +the child labor of the south), and her husband being a very large +manufacturer, she had spoken out of experience as well as theory. +Moreover, she had shown a luminous common sense and a tolerant humor +such as did not always brighten such serious themes; and not only the +earnest students of the club, but the more flippant members, were +aroused to an unusual and captivated attention. Now they were loath to +let her go; pressing about, tarrying amid the teacups, and only +reluctantly faring forth as the maids appeared to remove the wreckage +of the feast. The hostess sank, weary but elated, into a chair by Miss +Clymer, the secretary, as the last silken skirt rustled away. Mrs. +Waite, the president, who was dallying with socialism, had evidently +introduced her new pet to the visitor, who listened politely. + +"After all," suggested Mrs. Clymer, more from the amiable design of +steering the conversation within safe limits than out of any craving to +exploit her own views, "after all, do we really know _how_ these people +feel? Is there one of us, for example, who ever had an intimate friend +among them, a woman who worked with her hands?" + +"Madelaide Dunbar told me once," remarked the youngest club member, +"that she was fonder of her maid than of most of her friends." + +"Which maid?" inquired another. "The one who took her pearl necklace?" + +"Nobody took those pearls; Madelaide hid them herself, and forgot all +about it, and then found them in her soiled-handkerchief bag! But it +wasn't that one. This one had a little wave to her nose and her eyes +were near together." + +"Is she with Madelaide now?" + +"I think she married. Madelaide was buying teaspoons the other day, and +asking for rather light weight--maybe they were for her wedding +present." + +The South Carolinian smothered a smile. "Madelaide doesn't exactly +count," said the hostess. + +A new voice took up the theme, a sweet, rather diffident voice, to +which, nevertheless, the circle listened with an attention that was +almost distinction. She who spoke had been born in the little +mid-Western city, and there she had spent her early youth, but she had +married a rich man of the East, and was only a visitor to-day. The +Ridgelys were people of importance; and Constance Ridgely, the only +child, who never went to parties with boys, and only paid visits with +her mother, and finally disappeared into vistas of fashion and intimacy +with the peerage, was a person of mark. The more, that no splendid +transformation had altered her affection for the town, or her gentle, +almost shy modesty of manner. She flushed slightly now as she spoke. +"The best, the dearest girl friend I ever had, used to work with her +hands," said she. + +The sudden silence was almost the dumbness of dismay; but the hostess +sprang nimbly to the rescue with a murmur of "How picturesque!" + +"Why, of course," cried Mrs. Clymer. "I wish you would tell us of it. +You mean Nannie, don't you?" + +The Southerner leaned slightly forward, with a look of interest. + +"It is so long ago," said Mrs. Curtis, who had been Constance Ridgely, +"but something has made me think of Nannie all the afternoon. My +friendship with Nannie began almost thirty years ago, when Miss Arthur +kept the Pleasant Street kindergarten next to No. 3. The school was a +dear; but I remember so well the odd mixture of admiration and dread I +felt for the big, tumultuous public school. The boys used to make faces +at us, but they were so daring and they turned somersaults so nimbly! +And I was devoured with curiosity regarding the little girls who came to +school without their nurses. I thought it must be grand! One little girl +I singled out. She used to wear a red jersey and a red tam-o'-shanter. +She wasn't precisely pretty--according to my childish, wax-dolly +standard of beauty--but there was something fascinating in the way her +silky mop of brown hair flung itself to the wind, in the flash of her +brown eyes and her white teeth and the feather-down lightness of her +motions. She was as reckless of her frock as her bones--I was trained to +be very careful of both. The fearless rush with which she would slide +down the high bank or skin up a tree to the very awful, oscillating +top--I can't describe the awesome joy of seeing her! And she was so gay; +she had the sweetest, merriest laugh in the world. I loved it. Ah, how +many times did I glue my demure little face, which hid so many wild +fancies, to a certain knot-hole in that high, high fence of Miss +Arthur's, which all our mothers praised because it protected our +privacy, watching the boys and girls, and _my_ girl run out to recess! +And, oh, the blow it was when the hour of recess at the kindergarten was +changed! Because the No. 3 boys stole Bennie Olmstead's roller skates, +and there was a combat, in which our injured and innocent boys were no +match for the wicked No. 3's; and Miss Betty, who attended to minor +matters of our physical comfort, being only the third kindergartner, who +was learning and received no salary, and of course had most of the +drudgery, washed at least four bloody noses and one bitten ear, and put +butchers' brown paper on half a dozen bruises, while the little girls +wept for sympathy and Bennie howled for his skates! I wept, too; but it +was because I could never any more look through the knot-hole for +Nannie. I knew her name, because I heard it so often. And then, in the +midst of my dejection, I met her. It was by accident. Tina had come for +me in the carriage, but Harland, having an errand at the harness shop, +had sent her on ahead, and we two were waiting for him on the +curb-stone. Of a sudden we heard an appalling outcry of canine yelps and +boyish yells, and I saw a sickening sight, a wretched little dog with a +tin can tied to his tail, which clattered against the bricks of the +sidewalk as he bounded; and in the can a huge fire-cracker spitting +fire! For sheer terror lest I should see the catastrophe, I covered up +my face. And _then_ I heard my Nannie's voice, 'Here, doggie! Here, poor +doggie!' I let my little coward hands drop. I saw her welcome the +terrified beast to the shelter of her skirts, while with one swift curve +she plucked out the hissing red stick and hurled it with admirable +certainty of aim straight at the pursuers. As they scampered away, she +told them what she thought of them. Before they could rally, Harland +came to the rescue with the carriage; and Tina pushed both of us into +it. It was one of those double phaetons which we all used to have then. +I don't know whether Tina's mercy would have included the dog; but he +included himself with a flying leap into Nannie's lap." + +"And that was how you met Nancy?" said Mrs. Clymer. "You took her home, +didn't you, and found her conversation on the way very entertaining?" + +"Entrancing. She was full of thrilling knowledge of the world. She went +to school all alone. Her father was a carpenter, and she had a hatchet +and a plane and a brace and bit all her very own. Her mother was dead, +but she lived with her aunty, and she invited us most politely to get +out and see her aunty, and her papa's shop in the back yard. 'We got a +lovely home,' said Nannie." + +"Was it?" laughed the youngest clubwoman. + +"I thought it was; and, yes, I think it was, now. So specklessly, +radiantly tidy. A tiny house of wood, but painted freshly in gray and +white, and with a most wonderful garden. That belonged to Nannie's aunt. +Nannie said she could make anything with a root grow. I remember she was +out amid the phlox--such brilliant, luxuriant phlox as it was! She had +on a white apron, which the sun made dazzling. By a wonderful +coincidence, the aunt went to Tina's church, and Tina knew her; so Tina +let me go inside the house, and the aunt gave us coffee hot from the +stove, and delicious little spice cakes just out of the oven; and we +carried out some to Harland; and it was a full half-hour before Tina's +conscience stirred, and we had to go. By that time Nannie and I were +very well acquainted. Yet I had always been amazingly slow about making +friends. + +"After this episode Nannie and I always nodded and grinned when we saw +each other, going or coming from school. The next month Nannie appeared +at our Sunday school and announced that she would always attend there if +she might be in Miss Browning's class. Miss Browning taught my class. +Fancy my happiness! It impressed me very much the way Nannie could make +people do what she wanted. In summer another wonder happened. Nannie's +father built our new stable. Nannie used to bring him his luncheon +daily. Before the summer ended we were great chums." + +"But did your mother approve of your intimacy?" asked Mrs. Waite, who +was bewildered by conduct so opposed to her recollections of the +Ridgelys. + +"My mother was a wise woman. One day she sent me away on some pretext, +and she asked Nannie into the house and showed her pictures and talked +to her. Nannie adored my mother; and mamma never threw any obstacles in +the way of my seeing Nannie, while Tina was always willing to take me to +the Marshes; of course I never went alone. Tina thought Nannie one of +the nicest little girls in town; and she had sense enough to see that +while I was most often listless and shy with other girls, I was always +happy with Nannie. I don't think I can quite express her charm. She was +clever, but clever people have bored me. She was pretty, too; and she +was a true, delicate-minded little gentlewoman, though her father was a +mechanic and her aunt helped the family income by taking in fine +washing; but it was none of those things. I think it was that she was so +_wholesome_! Always cheerful. Always fearless. By consequence she was +the most absolutely truthful being I ever knew. Aunt Kate"--to Mrs. +Clymer--"you heard about the red paint? Shall I tell them?" At Mrs. +Clymer's assent she continued, "It was a truly terrible experience. I +was never so scared in my life; and I was always getting scared when I +was little. Nannie's next-door neighbor was a little girl named Elsa +Clarke, whose father was a painter by trade. He was an easy-tempered +man, and sometimes used to let us paint. If we daubed ourselves (which +we seldom failed to do), he would scrub us off with turpentine. I had +some painful scenes with Tina; for even if the paint was gone, the scent +of roses, you know. She was going to put a ban on the whole business, +when Nannie contrived some oilcloth aprons out of a discarded table +covering. This appeased her. One day Elsa's father gave us the dregs of +a can of red paint. Another painter who was doing some work in the shop +glowered at him, and from him to a white window sash that he had just +finished. He was a very gruff old fellow, of whom I stood in dreadful +fear. I thought he was very much such a looking man as the ogre in 'Jack +and the Beanstalk.' 'Them kids will mess up something if you give 'em +paint, you'll see,' the ogre growled, 'but they better keep clear of +_my_ sash, if they know what's good for 'em!' With that he followed +Elsa's father out of the shop. We were left with our artistic fury. I +don't know exactly how the calamity came about, but Elsa wanted the +paint can which Nannie was using. If Elsa wanted anything and didn't get +it, she grew angry. It was her papa's shop and her papa's paint and she +had a right to have it, she _would_ have it! 'But he gave it to us all,' +I protested, rather shocked at the squabble. Nannie didn't say anything; +she went on slapping the paint on a box in vast content. Then Elsa flew +into a rage and laid hold of Nannie. I laid hold of her. And a dog in +the household, hearing our loud voices, bounded joyously into the fray. +And somehow Nannie tripped! The paint, the red, red paint made a ghastly +cascade over the snowy whiteness of the ogre's window frame. Stupefied +by the enormity of our mishap, we stood staring miserably at each other. +Elsa burst into tears. As for me, I could hear my heart thump. + +"'He's coming back,' gasped Elsa, 'and papa ain't with him. I saw him +box a little girl's ears once jest for using his brush--let's run! Let's +_run_! He'll think it was Jumper!' (Jumper was wagging his tail and +affectionately sympathizing.) + +"'Jumper didn't do it,' said Nannie. + +"But Elsa was sprinting across the yard. My own terror seemed to clutch +me and propel me without volition; I was outside and hurrying after Elsa +before I realized. But at the sound of a dreadful, menacing voice I +turned my head. Nannie had not fled. She was facing the brutal man who +had boxed a little girl's ears; and he was demanding who had done +_That_! The rumble of thunder was in his deep tones. I ran back; but I +was in such a panic I had to hold on to the bench to keep me on my feet. +Elsa, from the fortress of her kitchen, screamed that Jumper had done +it. + +"'Hay?' exploded the man. It seemed to me an appalling interjection. + +"'Jumper didn't do it,' said Nannie. 'I fell and the paint splashed. +I'll paint it over for you, all right.' + +"'_You!_' the ogre bellowed, lifting his fist in a passion. 'You've done +enough mischief!' I had been trying to speak, but I was so scared that +my mouth only made little choking sounds, but now I did sob, 'Please, +mister, we _made_ her do it, Elsa and I. Elsa caught her arm and I +caught Elsa's arm--I'll _pay_ you for it!' I had my little purse out in +my trembling fingers and would have given it all to him. Not Nannie. 'It +can't take you an hour to paint it over,' said she. 'Will you take +twenty-five cents--that's an hour's wages--and let _me_ paint it? I'm +awful sorry it happened.' + +"'I've a mind to lick you both,' grumbled the man. + +"But Nannie didn't flinch; she looked into his face, repeating, 'We're +awful sorry; and we'll pay you. It wouldn't do any good to spank us; and +I'll paint something else first, to show you I won't daub the glass.' + +"'Well, you _are_ a cool one,' said the man. I could hardly believe my +eyes; he was grinning. Actually he did let Nannie show him how neatly +she painted; and the end of it was, he taught us a great deal about +painting." + +"Didn't Nannie think you were plucky to run back?" said the Southerner. +"Truly, Mrs. Curtis, I think you were braver than she!" + +Mrs. Curtis shook her head. "I couldn't have done it but for Nannie. +Merely being in her presence stiffened my limp courage. I was absurdly +timid." + +"Well, I don't wonder you were fond of her," cried the youngest member. +"What were her people like?" + +"Her mother was dead and she was an only child. Her father was the +kindest, gentlest of men, with a placid shrewdness such as one may draw +from life rather than books. He loved beautiful things. Why, he taught +me more about the loveliness of shadows and trees than the great +artists, since. And I recognize now how fine was his passion for what he +called in his homely way 'a job good enough not to need putty.'" + +"I remember Marsh well," said Mrs. Clymer. "He _was_ a wonderful workman +and a particularly considerate person to have about. He always cleaned +up his shavings. I never saw the aunt. She was a nice sort, too, wasn't +she, Connie?" + +"Indeed she was! She was a widow with three children. The youngest, as +Nannie told me with somber importance, was 'bedrid'; she hadn't walked +for three years, and the doctor said she 'never would walk in this +world'; but Mr. Marsh had made her a most ingenious wheeled chair, which +was always at the window, with her little pale, smiling face above it. +Then there was little Ned, who was four, and Oscar, who was working his +way through college. They all spoke of Oscar with deep respect. He was +awfully clever, I was sure; and his mother had a handsome photograph of +him on the mantel, under his father's picture." + +"That was Jedidiah Marsh," explained Mrs. Waite. "I remember him. He was +a very handsome man and a plumber. He wasn't very much of a plumber as I +recall him; but he was an inventor always going to patent something, +which always turned out to have been discovered before. Finally he did +put some machine on the market, and died leaving the business in a +tangle, and lots of debts, which his widow and Caleb Marsh paid off to +the last cent of interest, although it took them years to do it." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Clymer; "he told Mr. Clymer once that maybe he wasn't +legally liable for Jed's debts, but there never was a Marsh yet that +anybody could find fault with for doing anything dishonest; and they +shouldn't begin with Jed, who was all right, whether his washing machine +was or wasn't. I have a sneaking idea myself that Caleb Marsh, who was +shrewd in his simple way, did not take Jed's wonderful genius seriously; +but Jed's wife did. Once I carried Nannie home when she had been to see +you, Connie; and I remember their neat little parlor, with the pictures +of Lincoln and Grant and the Rogers groups and some really fine, simple +furniture which Marsh had made himself. But I remember best the two +portraits over the mantel--a pretty girl I should have known was +Nannie's mother, only an enlarged photograph, but very well done, and an +oil portrait of Jedidiah, which had been done from a photograph by the +gifted daughter of a neighbor, who was learning to paint. It was pretty +awful. I wonder didn't Caleb Marsh think so, too." + +"If he did, he never said so, you may be sure," said Mrs. Curtis +quickly; "and somehow I have a kind of affection for that picture, too. +There were always flowers before both of the portraits; perhaps in +winter no more than some sprigs of lemon verbena or a pot of ivy, but +always some green thing. Do you know, the pictures, and the flowers +always before them, that little touch of faithful love, added an +intangible and plaintive charm to the homely attraction of the house. I +did love that room. It was so sunny, so spotless and peaceful, with the +geraniums and the heliotrope in the window, and the white muslin +curtains. There was a rug with a very bright and fierce-looking tiger on +it before the fireplace (Mr. Marsh _would_ have a fireplace), and Mr. +Marsh's grandmother's andirons glittered behind the big peacock fan in +summer time; and there used to float in through the window the lovely +faint odors of old-fashioned flowers--spice pinks and sweetbrier roses +and lemon verbenas." + +Mrs. Clymer sighed. "I wish there were a better ending to the story." + +"Does it end sadly?" asked the Southerner. "Did the little girls grow up +and forget each other?" + +Mrs. Curtis, who was looking absently over the lawn and the flowers, +down the shady street, on which longer and warmer shadows were creeping, +back perhaps in a reverie of her childhood, started a little; the +sensitive blush which years in the world had not given her power to +control, mantled her fair cheek; she turned and gave the Southerner's +light smile a serious, almost solemn gaze. When she spoke it was with a +gentle coldness, as if she felt she had been too frank with +strangers--at least so the hostess interpreted it. + +"_I_ didn't forget; and we were not separated for several years. I went +to the high school with Nannie; it was really I who went, for my +entreaties overcame my mother's aversion to the clamorous life of a +public school. We were so happy; and when I had the trouble with my +eyes, Nannie used to read my lessons to me. She learned a whole +different course so she could help me. You see, she was awfully clever. +The more I knew of other girls, the finer Nannie seemed to me. The--the +difference between the classes, the real thing which keeps them apart, +is their lack of a common ground of experience. They haven't anything to +talk about. I should have been as shy with another girl who worked for +her living as she would have been with me, but I knew Nannie so well--I +never knew any other woman friend so well, and only one man." + +"Whom you married?" said the Southerner with an apologetic accent. + +"Yes, poor dear," laughed Mrs. Curtis. "It wasn't treating him well, +perhaps, but he brought it on himself." + +"Did you go through the high school with your friend?" Mrs. Waite's deep +voice was heard again. "But no, surely you weren't a graduate?" + +"No; we went to Europe in my second year. I cried myself ill when we +parted. My only comfort was that Nannie and I had promised each other +that we would go to college together. Nannie was already earning money +by her carving. Still--it was bitter. Youth can suffer so easily and so +horribly!" + +"Yet," said Mrs. Clymer, "though I admit you were a woeful object, +Connie, I thought at the time, and I think now, that Nannie suffered the +most. She didn't shed a tear that morning when she came up to your house +to say good-by; and I went with you to the depot; but there was a look +in her eyes which haunted me. And when she stood in the driveway as we +rolled away, watching the carriage, and you turned and she waved her +hand and smiled--I felt as if I had seen a surgical operation." + +"And then? Oh, Mrs. Curtis, that wasn't the end of it?" cried the +youngest member. + +"Oh, no. I missed Nannie amid all the change and excitement; and I wrote +her often. At first she wrote me as often. Now I can appreciate how +hard she must have tried to collect the little items of news likely to +interest me. And they were all about girls whom she barely knew, and +things remote from her. Somehow she found out about everything. It was +she who first wrote about when Annie Baylor had scarlet fever, and she +who told first of that astounding happening, Mary Taine Willis' +engagement. Mary was only three years older than we; it was almost like +one of us being engaged. And her reports about the house and the grounds +and the horses, my father said, were clearer and more useful than those +of the man in charge. But somehow during the last year the letters grew +a little less open-hearted and affectionate; a queer film of constraint +froze over them, if I may call it that. And on my part I was conscious +of a mingling of dread in my delight at the prospect of seeing Nannie +when we had come. I knew she would be the same faithful, dear girl whom +I should always love; but my Nannie was more--she was the leader, she +had charm; I admired her so tremendously, I wondered should I admire her +in the same way. Maybe you think that was horrid of me?" + +"I don't know"--the Southern woman spoke before the others--"I know it +was natural. Well, did you find it different? _Had_ she changed?" + +"I don't remember; I only remember that, in the first half-hour, my only +fear was lest she should be disappointed in _me_. I admired everything +about her; her very clothes were so dainty; and I had expected to be +superior there, I fancy. But it wasn't that; it was my feeling that she +was finer and stronger than my other friends. You know the pretty +clothes, the pretty manners, are only signs of the real thing; and +Nannie had the real thing, I was sure. But there was always that +constraint about her. You would not believe," said Mrs. Curtis gently to +the Southerner, "you would not believe how absurdly this intangible +reserve of hers hurt me." + +"I think it was very nasty of her, myself," laughed the Southerner; "but +did it never occur to you that some other friend of yours might have +been making mischief? You were a very desirable chum, some one might +have filled your friend's head with notions of how different were your +classes and walks in life; and how you were too loyal and kind hearted +to desert or repel an old friend, but you might find such ties a drag on +you. If that happened she would be a little morbid about making +advances. She was probably proud in her own way." + +"There was Elsa Clarke," Mrs. Clymer suggested; "she was always trying +to be intimate with you; and if ever there was a sly little climber, it +was she." + +"Wait a minute!" exclaimed the hostess. "I am beginning to reminisce, +myself. Wasn't there a boy in the Marsh family, Nannie Marsh's brother +or cousin? Yes, her cousin, Oscar. Why, to be sure. He came back from +college and was a clerk in Norris Blanchard's store, and fell madly in +love with Gladys Blanchard. She treated him abominably, they did say. +Led him on, and then married that young man from Massachusetts; and +Oscar shot himself in the front yard while they were standing up under +the floral bell." + +"How ghastly," murmured the youngest member, "to kill himself--" + +"Oh, it didn't kill him, though they thought he would die. I don't know +but his uncle wondered sometimes if it wouldn't have been better. For +after he got up he took to drink and notions--wild, anarchistic, +socialistic--" + +"He couldn't take to them both at the same time," Mrs. Waite interrupted +with fervor. "They are absolutely antagonistic, socialism--" + +"Yes, yes, to be sure"--the hostess hastily turned a conversational +switch before the collision--"of course I didn't mean to say he believed +in _both_, only that he took to making fierce speeches at the populist +meetings, and wrote articles for the papers, girding at the rich. And he +used to get drunk. The poor Marshes felt awfully. I shouldn't be a bit +surprised if that was what made Nannie a little shy and stiff. Did she +tell you about Oscar's tragedy?" + +"Not until I found it out myself. I somehow had the feeling that I +wasn't so gladly welcomed as I used to be. And Mrs. Marsh was changed +and saddened. But the little chair was no longer by the window; and I +knew the mother grieved. Dear little Hattie, always so patient and so +pleased with every little thing. One day Nannie was walking home with +me, and we met Oscar. After that I knew. I will own up, when I saw his +condition, I--I told you I was a coward--I simply turned and ran away. +To be sure, Nannie had seen him also, and said suddenly, 'Good-by, +Connie; I can't go any farther'; but that is only a mitigation, not an +excuse. I was so ashamed of myself I hardly slept all night. Nannie was +coming to see me the next afternoon. I was awfully afraid she wouldn't +come, and almost as afraid to see her when she did come. And when she +began to talk, I couldn't think of anything better than to kiss her, +with my eyes shut--as if I were going to have a tooth pulled! We both +cried. It gave me a weird, earthquaky sensation to see Nannie cry. I had +never, through all our years of intimacy, seen her cry. But almost +immediately she pulled herself together, and said, 'Well, I'm not going +to stand it. Daddy has found a place in the country where Oscar can go +and learn the business and then be a partner. If he has a little +property of his own he will stop wanting to overturn things so bad. +So--he's going; and he did seem to feel bad about making aunty so +wretched; and he's promised to give up drinking _and_ talking; so I +don't know what I'm crying about, unless it is having to give up going +to college with you! But it's only putting it off for a year. I'll make +it all back by then; I'm going into the furniture factory this summer.' +But when I saw the family I realized for the first time what this +education, which we take so lightly, indeed often with weariness, means +to those who have to deny themselves for it. The love of it was a +passion with Nannie's people. They seemed to think a college was a +wonderful place, where one learned all the secrets of life and art and +knowledge. When they spoke of it their voices would drop reverentially, +as they dropped when they spoke of heaven. To have this glory for Nannie +put off another year seemed cruel to them. 'Well,' I suggested to Mr. +Marsh, 'at least it will be I who will have to miss her, and not you.' +'It's wicked to take such comfort,' said he, 'but I guess I can't help +taking it a mite. Nannie is so very comforting and pleasant to have +around.'" + +"He certainly was a nice man," said Mrs. Clymer. "Do you remember him +beaming at Nannie's graduation? I thought I should be bored, but I +wasn't; and you, my dear, were a little drama of delight by yourself, so +scared when she began, and so radiant presently; and darting such +furious glances at Elsa Clarke." + +"Well," retorted Mrs. Curtis, "wasn't she whispering all through the +essay to a boy she had with her! But she was on the stage afterward, +before any of us, and she had sent Nannie a most impressive and +expensive bouquet; and she was hugging her and making joyful noise over +her when my father and I came up. Father paid her the prettiest of +compliments and called her Miss Nannie. Her own father and her aunt and +Ned stood by, with Oscar, who had come in from the country for this +important occasion. Mr. Marsh did not say a word. But I never knew +before how many different kinds of smiles a man could smile. And +somehow, after that evening, although Nannie was so little affected by +the glamour of it all, I was provoked with her; somehow, she was more +like her old gay self with me. Why do you suppose, Mrs. Atherton?" + +"I suppose," ventured the Southerner, smiling, "because she felt that +her little triumph (no doubt she overvalued it, in spite of the level +head you give her); she felt it made her a little better worth your +friendship. But--what happened next? You went to college?" + +"Yes, I went; and we had to have that odious little Elsa with us, +because she was going, too. I was most dolefully homesick; and oh, how I +missed Nannie! I wrote her, if I weren't so afraid of the ferocious +cabmen who roared so at one, I should run away, and it was all her +fault--" + +"Your father did want--" Mrs. Curtis cut Mrs. Clymer's sentence off with +a quick "Ah, they wouldn't accept; they were quite as proud as we. +However, the time dragged itself away, and I went home for the Christmas +holidays. I found Nannie in very different circumstances, but quite as +cheerful. She was working in the factory, and earning good wages, and +she had all sorts of racy experiences with human nature to relate. How +the whole family hung on my college stories! And Oscar was doing well, +and becoming cheerful, and they could all talk proudly about him again! +They comforted me as much as my own people, and I went back with a show +of courage. Nannie wrote me every week. I don't know just when I began +to feel a change in the letters, not in their affection or their gaiety; +but she no longer told me so much about her studies (for she wanted to +keep up with me and enter in the second year); after a while she hardly +mentioned them; yet she _had_ shown the keenest interest. My people came +on east for me that summer, and as we made several visits, it was late +in the summer when we came home. Although I had noticed this change in +Nannie's letters, I had not dreamed what it really meant; and I was not +prepared for the shock I received. She greeted me with all her old +affection; but at my first inquiry about her savings, she answered, +'Yes, I have enough--if I go.' 'If!' I cried. 'Don't be talking of +if's!' 'Indeed, I ought not,' she answered very gravely, 'for there is +no if about it; I know that I oughtn't to go. It isn't fair to the +others.' 'But they want you to go!' I pleaded in inexpressible dismay. +'It will be the awfulest disappointment!' It seems to me that I still +remember every word of her reply. She said that she knew it, that her +education had been the whole family's day dream. But that, in the first +place, it would be harder than they would admit for them to have her go. +'If it were only this it would be hard,' she said, 'but we could bear +it; but--it isn't. What they couldn't bear would be to--to have me grow +away from them. I _couldn't_, truly; but--you know Elsa is at home now. +She talks of nothing but her college, her college friends, her high +marks at exams, her basketball team, and all that. She is always +complaining of her own people's plain ways. Connie, I can see so plainly +that when she has finished the education which her parents are pinching +themselves to give her she will use it to establish herself as far as +possible from them.' + +"'Oh, Elsa?' I sniffed. 'I can believe anything of Elsa. _You_ couldn't +be so horrid and snobbish!' + +"'She doesn't mean to be horrid, or know she is; she speaks of her +mother with tears in her eyes. It is only that she has gone into another +world from them, and wants to stay there. I don't want to go into any +other world than my father's and the others'. I don't want any better +taste than they have! I want better taste and I want them to have it, +but I want us all to get it together. Whatever I get I want to share +with them. I couldn't if I went away. I used to think I could bring it +all back in a lump; but I know better now. You can't pot culture and +give it away as you choose; you have to grow it from the seed. What I am +afraid of is that they should not get what I get. So far they have; why, +aunty knows more of Virgil from hearing me translate aloud than I do +myself; and dad is wonderful in geometry, and he has taught _me_ to love +Charles Lamb, whom he loved just from the extracts in the literature. +First he bought the Essays, then I bought him the Letters. It is that +way with so many things. You know'--she laughed--'you know we have some +long-legged Fra Angelico angels instead of the pictures of Lincoln and +Grant; they are in other frames, which my father made, and hang in the +hall; and the Rogers groups have gone up-stairs, and, Connie, Oscar and +dad and I have had a real artist paint a pastel of Uncle Jed as a +present for aunty, and we have it in the parlor now; and nobody's +feelings are hurt; we were all pleased together. That is the right way. +I can't take any other way. Not even to be with you, Connie. No, dear, I +can't go.' I am afraid I made it harder for her with my selfish grief, +and her father almost frantically opposed the sacrifice, he who was +always so tranquil; and Oscar was angry, and Ned cried. Oh, we gave poor +Nannie a frightful quarter of an hour; but she did not go." + +"What became of her? How did it turn out in the end?" asked the youngest +member. + +"I don't know," answered Mrs. Curtis. + +"Did her conduct make a breach between you?" Mrs. Waite showed the dawn +of disapproval on her brow. + +"Surely not. But in my next year we went abroad unexpectedly, on +account of my mother's health. We stayed four years; and while we were +away, my grandfather died, and the house here was sold. At first we both +wrote often; but, as the years went by, insensibly we wrote less often. +Both of us, I suppose. That same film of constraint was over Nannie's +letters that had been over her manner before. Then it went away. This +time it came, and did not go away. Then the letters ceased altogether. +When I--when I found I was going to marry Mr. Curtis, I wrote Nannie the +very first letter. There was no answer. I wrote again--not once, but +many times. After a long while my letters came back to me, unopened, +with the post-office inscription, 'Not to be found.' I wrote to Elsa, +who was home. I asked her for Nannie's address; for some word about her. +She wrote back that the Marshes had sold their house after Oscar's +trouble, to raise money for his defense; and they had all moved away, +she believed, to Dakota, but she didn't know where. She said Nannie +avoided everybody." + +"And what _was_ Oscar's trouble?" demanded Mrs. Waite. "I know there was +some iniquitous blunder of the law, but what exactly was it?" + +Mrs. Clymer, who had been watching Mrs. Curtis attentively, explained +while the other woman seemed searching for the right words. "Oscar was +convicted of burning the store of a rival merchant who had treated him +very treacherously. He had lost his temper, and threatened the man. What +he meant, he explained, was to give him a good hiding. But he was +overheard; and when, that night, the store burned, and Oscar was +discovered to have gone there, suspicion lighted on him. Of course, all +his former wild actions were brought up against him, although he had +quite reformed. There had been a number of incendiary fires, and you +know how people always want _somebody_ punished; poor Oscar Marsh was +sent to the penitentiary, after his people had spent almost their last +dollar to defend him. They moved away, and all trace of them was lost. +It is a wretched story. And really, Oscar was innocent. A year afterward +(I always credited it mostly to Nannie) it was discovered that the man +had set fire to the store himself. Nannie got the insurance company on +his trail. He fled. The governor pardoned Oscar. And that is all any of +us know." + +"It is a sad story," sighed Mrs. Waite. "I think she did wrong not to +educate herself." + +"I think she did quite right," said Mrs. Curtis. + +"But as it was, the sacrifice was so useless," urged the youngest +member. "She didn't lift them; they only all went under the waves +together." + +"Not necessarily," objected the Southerner. "Why be so dismal? Why not +be cheerful? They had their good trade and their good sense and their +love for each other. I am going to suppose that those things are more +than money, and that they went to work in a new place, rose little by +little, and then more and more, and are all prosperous and respected, +and Miss Nannie has married the young superintendent of her new factory, +who has now risen to be the main partner; he is of an old though +impoverished family--" + +"You think so much of family in the South, don't you?" interjected Mrs. +Waite. + +"Well, we have so many old and good but impoverished families there, you +see. I think the chances are she married such a boy; and they have made +money, and Oscar has a nice plantation near them, and is married to a +sweet little Southern girl, and his mother adores the baby; and Ned +goes to college, and Mr. Marsh is a prosperous builder, high in the +Scottish Rite, and growing used to his dress coat--" + +"But," said the hostess, "you are having them all south; they went to +Dakota." + +"Why, so they did! I forgot," cried the Southerner. "Maybe it was a +mistake; and anyhow, they would have done better to go south!" + +Everybody laughed and Mrs. Curtis' fine eyes lit up. "I perceive you are +a psychic, Mrs. Atherton," she said gaily. "And they _did_ go south. +Being a psychic, can't you tell me something? Why didn't Nannie answer +my letters?" + +The Southerner dropped her chin and looked upward in the pose of a seer; +no one noticed Mrs. Clymer's sudden movement or the ripple of quick +emotion in Mrs. Curtis' face. "That's easy," she responded. "I see a +slim girl with dark hair walking with another girl who answers to the +name of Elsa. The dark-haired girl gives her a letter, stamped, but not +addressed. She has sent a letter to her friend, which has not reached +her. Letters sometimes do not reach people who are hurrying through +Egypt or--or other places. This letter she gives to Elsa, who is to +marry the cousin of an acquaintance of the friend. She is to post +it--_voilà tout!_" + +"She _was_ engaged to Bertha Miller's cousin; and she did try awfully +hard to be intimate with Constance," whispered Mrs. Clymer in the +hostess' ear; while everybody laughed again. + +"He drinks like a fish," returned the hostess irrelevantly. + +"Oh, Mrs. Atherton, don't stop, tell us more," begged the youngest +member. "I feel so interested in Nannie. Has she any children?" The +youngest member had just acquired the most remarkable baby in the world. + +"I reckon," jested the Southerner, "two or three. Two boys, let us +say--" + +"How nice!" cried Mrs. Curtis, coloring prettily. "_I_ have two boys." + +"And--I think a little girl, whom she has named Constance, Constance +Ridgely--Are we going, Mrs. Clymer?" + +Mrs. Clymer laid a kindly hand on her shoulder, saying, "Yes, my dear, I +must go; but as I am stopping on my way, I shall walk; and Constance +will take care of you." + +"Thank you, Aunt Kate," said Mrs. Curtis, so low the others--except the +Southerner--did not hear. They were alone in the carriage before she +made any sign of that which had stirred her profoundly. Then she turned +on her companion a pale face and eyes that were swimming in tears. + +"Yes, dear," said the Southerner, whose lips were smiling, but whose own +eyes were wet. + +"Oh--_Nannie!_" cried Constance Ridgely. And the faces of the two women +were strangely like the faces of the two little girls who had found each +other years and years ago. + + + + +THE OLD PARTISAN + +A STORY OF THE REPUBLICAN CONVENTION OF 1896 + + +I sat so far back in the gallery that my opinion of my delegate friend +dwindled with every session. Nevertheless my unimportant seat had its +advantages. I could see the vast assembly and watch the throbbing of the +Republican pulse if I could not hear its heart-beats. Therefore, +perhaps, I studied my neighbors more than I might study them under +different circumstances. The great wooden hall had its transient and +unsubstantial character stamped on every bare wooden joist and +unclinched nail. It was gaudy with flags and bunting and cheap +portraits. There were tin bannerettes crookedly marshaled on the floor, +to indicate the homes of the different states. A few delegates, +doubtless new to the business and over-zealous, were already on the +floor, but none of the principals were visible. They were perspiring and +arguing in those committee rooms, those hotel lobbies and crowded hotel +rooms where the real business of the convention was already done and +neatly prepared for presentation to the nation. I had nothing to keep me +from studying my neighbors. In front of me sat two people who had +occupied the same seats at every session that I was present, a young +girl and an old man. The girl wore the omnipresent shirt waist (of +pretty blue and white tints, with snowy cuffs and collar), and her green +straw hat was decked with blue cornflowers, from which I inferred that +she had an eye on the fashions. Her black hair was thick and glossy +under the green straw. I thought that she had a graceful neck. It was +very white. Whiter than her face, which kept a touch of sunburn, as if +she were often out in the open air. Somehow I concluded that she was a +shop-girl and rode a wheel. If I were wrong it is not likely that I +shall ever know. + +The old man I fancied, was not so old as he looked; his delicate, +haggard profile may have owed its sunken lines and the dim eye to +sickness rather than to years. He wore the heavy black broadcloth of the +rural politician, and his coat sagged over his narrow chest as if he had +left his waistcoat at home. On his coat lapel were four old-fashioned +Blaine badges. Incessantly he fanned himself. + +"It can't be they ain't going to nominate him to-day?" he asked rather +than asserted, his voice breaking on the higher notes, the mere wreck of +a voice. + +"Oh, maybe later," the girl reassured him. + +"Well, I wanted to attend a Republican convention once more before I +died. Your ma would have it I wasn't strong enough; but I knew better; +you and I knew better; didn't we, Jenny?" + +She made no answer except to pat his thin, ribbed brown hand with her +soft, white, slim one; but there was a world of sympathy in the gesture +and her silent smile. + +"I wonder what your ma said when she came down-stairs and found the +letter, and us gone," he cackled with the garrulous glee of a child +recounting successful mischief; "made me think of the times when you was +little and I stole you away for the circus. Once, your pa thought you +was lost--'member? And once, you had on your school dress and you'd tore +it--she did scold you that time. But we had fun when they used to let me +have money, didn't we, Jenny?" + +"Well, now I earn money, we have good times, too, grandpa," said Jenny, +smiling the same tender, comprehending smile. + +"We do that; I don't know what I would do 'cept for you, lambie, and +this is--this is a grand time, Jenny, you look and listen; it's a great +thing to see a nation making its principles and its president--and such +a president!" + +He half turned his head as he spoke, with a mounting enthusiasm, thus +bringing his flushing face and eager eyes--no longer dim--into the focus +of his next neighbor's bright gray eyes. The neighbor was a young man, +not very young, but hardly to be called elderly, of an alert bearing and +kindly smile. + +"I think him a pretty fair man myself," said the other with a jocose +understatement; "I come from his town." + +What was there in such a simple statement to bring a distinctly anxious +look into the young girl's soft eyes? There it was; one could not +mistake it. + +"Well!" said the old man: there was a flattering deference in his voice. +"Well, well. And--and maybe you've seen him lately?" The quavering +tones sharpened with a keener feeling; it was almost as if the man were +inquiring for some one on whom he had a great stake of affection. "How +did he look? Was he better, stronger?" + +"Oh, he looked elegant," said the Ohio man, easily, but with a +disconcerted side glance at the girl whose eyes were imploring him. + +"I've been a Blaine man ever since he was run the time Bob Ingersoll +nominated him," said the old man, who sighed as if relieved. "I was at +that convention and heard the speech--" + +"Ah, that was a speech to hear," said a man behind, and two or three men +edged their heads nearer. + +The old Republican straightened his bent shoulders, his winter-stung +features softened and warmed at the manifestation of interest, his voice +sank to the confidential undertone of the narrator. + +"You're right, sir, right; it was a magnificent speech. I can see him +jest as he stood there, a stoutish, good-looking man, smooth-faced, his +eye straight ahead, and an alternate that sat next me--I was an +alternate; I've been an alternate four times; I could have been a +delegate, but I says, 'No, abler men than me are wanting it; I'm willing +to fight in the ranks.' But I wished I had a vote, a free vote that +day, I tell you. The alternate near me, he says, 'You'll hear something +fine now; I've heard him speak.'" + +"You did, too, I guess." + +"We could hear from the first minute. That kinder fixed our attention. +He had a mellow, rich kind of voice that melted into our ears. We found +ourselves listening and liking him from the first sentence. At first he +was as quiet as a summer breeze, but presently he began to warm up, and +the words flowed out like a stream of jewels. It was electrifying: it +was thrilling, sir; it took us off our feet before we knew it, and when +he came to the climax, those of us that weren't yelling in the aisles +were jumping up and down on our chairs! I know I found myself prancing +up and down on my own hat on a chair, swinging somebody else's hat and +screaming at the top of my voice, with the tears running down my cheeks. +God! sir, there were men there on their feet cheering their throats out +that had to vote against Blaine afterward--had to, because they were +there instructed--no more free will than a checked trunk!" The light +died out of his face. "Yes, sir, a great speech; never so great a +speech, whoever made it; but it did no good, he wasn't nominated, and +when we did nominate him we were cheated out of our victory. Well, we'll +do better this day." + +"We will that," said the other man, heartily; "McKinley--" + +"You'll excuse me"--the old man struck in with a deprecating air, yet +under the apology something fiercely eager and anxious that glued the +hearer's eyes to his quivering old face--"You'll excuse me. I--I am a +considerable of an invalid and I don't keep the run of things as I used +to. You see, I live with my daughter, and you know how women folks are, +fretting lest things should make you sick, and my girl she worries so, +me reading the papers. Fact is I got a shock once, an awful shock"--he +shivered involuntarily and his dim eyes clouded--"and it worried her +seeing me read. Hadn't ought to; it don't worry Jenny here, who often +gets me a paper, quiet like; but you know how it is with women--it's +easier giving them their head a little--and so I don't see many papers, +and I kinder dropped off. It seems queer, but I don't exactly sense it +about this McKinley. Is he running against Blaine or jest for vice?" + +The girl, under some feminine pretext of dropping and reaching for her +handkerchief, threw upward a glance of appeal at the interlocutor. +Hurriedly she stepped into the conversation. "My grandfather read a +false report about--about Mr. Blaine's sickness, and he was not well at +the time, and it brought on a bad attack." + +"I understand," said the listener, with a grave nod of his head and +movement of his eyes in the girl's direction. + +"But about McKinley?" the old man persisted. + +"He's for vice-president," the girl announced, her eyes fixed on the +hesitating man from Canton. I have often admired the intrepid fashion in +which a woman will put her conscience at a moral hedge, while a man of +no finer spiritual fiber will be straining his eyes to find a hole +through which he can crawl. + +"McKinley is not opposed to Blaine, is he?" she asked the man. + +"The Republican party has no name that is more loved than that of James +G. Blaine," said the man, gravely. + +"That's so, that's so!" the old partisan assented eagerly; "to my mind +he's the logical candidate." + +The Canton man nodded, and asked if he had ever seen Blaine. + +"Once, only once. I was on a delegation sent to wait on him and ask him +to our town to speak--he was in Cincinnati. I held out my hand when my +turn came, and the chairman nearly knocked the breath out of me by +saying, 'Here's the man gave more to our campaign fund and worked harder +than any man in the county, and we all worked hard for you, too.' Well, +Mr. Blaine looked at me. You know the intent way he looks. He has the +most wonderful eyes; look right at you and seem to bore into you like a +gimlet. I felt as if he was looking right down into my soul, and I tell +you I was glad, for I choked up so I couldn't find a word, not a word, +and I was ready and fluent enough in those days, too, I can tell you; +but I stood there filling up, and squeezed his hand and gulped and got +red, like a fool. But he understood. 'I have heard of your loyalty to +Republican principles, Mr. Painter,' says he, in that beautiful voice of +his that was like a violin; and I burst in--I couldn't help it--'It +ain't loyalty to Republican principles, it's to you.' I said that right +out. And he smiled, and said he, 'Well, that's wrong, but it isn't for +me to quarrel with you there, Mr. Painter,' and then they pushed me +along; but twice while the talk was going on I saw him look my way and +caught his eye, and he smiled, and when we were all shaking hands for +good-by he shook hands with a good firm grip, and said he, 'Good-by, Mr. +Painter; I hope we shall meet again.'" + +The old man drew a long sigh. "Those few moments paid for everything," +he said. "I've never seen him since. I've been sick and lost money. I +ain't the man I was. I never shall be put on any delegation again, or be +sent to any convention; but I thought if I could only go once more to a +Republican convention and hear them holler for Blaine, and holler once +more myself, I'd be willinger to die. And I told Tom Hale that, and he +and Jenny raised the money. Yes, Jenny, I'm going to tell--he and Jenny +put off being married a bit so's I could go, and go on plenty of money. +Jenny, she worked a month longer to have plenty, and Tom, he slipped ten +dollars into my hand unbeknown to her, jest as we were going, so I'd +always have a dime to give the waiter or the porter. I was never one of +these hayseed farmers, too stingy to give a colored boy a dime when he'd +done his best. I didn't need no money for badges; I got my old +badges--see!" + +He pushed out the lapel of his coat, covered with old-fashioned frayed +bits of tinsel and ribbon, smiling confidently. The girl had flushed +crimson to the rim of her white collar; but there was not a trace of +petulance in her air; and, all at once looking at him, her eyes filled +with tears. + +"Tom's an awful good fellow," he said, "an awful good fellow." + +"I'm sure of that," said the Canton man, with the frank American +friendliness, making a little bow in Miss Jenny's direction; "but see +here, Mr. Painter, do you come from Izard? Are you the man that saved +the county for the Republicans by mortgaging his farm and then going on +a house-to-house canvass?" + +"That's me," the old man acquiesced, blushing with pleasure; "I didn't +think, though, that it was known outside--" + +"Things go further than you guess. I'm a newspaper man, and I can tell +you that I shall speak of it again in my paper. Well, I guess they've +got through with their mail, and the platform's coming in." + +Thus he brushed aside the old man's agitated thanks. + +"One moment," said the old man, "who--who's going to nominate him?" + +For the space of an eyeblink the kindly Canton man looked embarrassed, +then he said, briskly: "Foraker, Foraker, of Ohio--he's the principal +one. That's he now, chairman of the committee on resolutions. He's +there, the tall man with the mustache--" + +"Isn't that elderly man, with the stoop shoulders and the chin beard and +caved-in face, Teller?" It was a man near me, on the seat behind, who +spoke, tapping the Canton man with his fan, to attract attention; +already the pitiful concerns of the old man who was "a little off" (as I +had heard some one on the seat whisper) were sucked out of notice in the +whirlpool of the approaching political storm. + +"Yes, that's Teller," answered the Canton man, his mouth straightening +and growing thin. + +"Is it to be a bolt?" + +The Canton man nodded, at which the other whistled and communicated the +information to his neighbors, one of whom remarked, "Let 'em bolt and be +damned!" A general, subtle excitement seemed to communicate its +vibrations to all the gallery. Perhaps I should except the old partisan; +he questioned the girl in a whisper, and then, seeming to be satisfied, +watched the strange scene that ensued with an expression of patient +weariness. The girl explained parts of the platform to him and he +assented; it was good Republican doctrine, he said, but what did they +mean with all this talk against the money; were they having trouble with +the mining states again? The Canton man stopped to explain--he certainly +was good-humored. + +During the next twenty minutes, filled as they were with savage emotion, +while the galleries, like the floor, were on their chairs yelling, +cheering, brandishing flags and fists and fans and pampas plumes of red, +white and blue at the little band of silver men who marched through the +ranks of their former comrades; he stood, he waved his fan in his feeble +old hand, but he did not shout. "You must excuse me," said he, "I'm all +right on the money question, but I'm saving my voice to shout for +_him_!" + +"That's right," said the Canton man; but he cast a backward glance which +said as plainly as a glance can speak, "I wish I were out of this!" + +Meanwhile, with an absent but happy smile, the old Blaine man was +beating time to the vast waves of sound that rose and swelled above the +band, above the cheering, above the cries of anger and scorn, the +tremendous chorus that had stiffened men's hearts as they marched to +death and rung through streets filled with armies and thrilled the +waiting hearts at home: + + "Three cheers for the red, white and blue! + Three cheers for the red, white and blue! + The army and navy for ever, three cheers for the red, white and + blue!" + +But when the chairman had stilled the tumult and made his grim comment, +"There appear to be enough delegates left to transact business," the old +partisan cast his eyes down to the floor with a chuckle. "I can't see +the hole they made, it's so small. Say, ain't he a magnificent +chairman; you can hear every word he says!" + +"Bully chairman," said a cheerful "rooter" in the rear, who had enjoyed +the episode more than words can say, and had cheered the passing of +Silver with such choice quotations from popular songs as "_Good-by, my +lover, good-by_," and "_Just mention that you saw me_," and plainly felt +that he, too, had adorned the moment. "I nearly missed coming this +morning, and I wouldn't have missed it for a tenner; they're going to +nominate now." + +The old man caught his breath; then he smiled. "I'll help you shout +pretty soon," said he, while he sat down very carefully. + +The "rooter," a good-looking young fellow with a Reed button and three +or four gaudy badges decking his crash coat, nodded and tapped his +temple furtively, still retaining his expression of radiant good-nature. +The Canton man nodded and frowned. + +I felt that the Canton man need not be afraid. Somehow we were all +tacitly taking care that this poor, bewildered soul should not have its +little dream of loyal, unselfish satisfaction dispelled. + +"Ah, my countrymen," I thought, "you do a hundred crazy things, you +crush _les convenances_ under foot, you can be fooled by frantic +visionaries, but how I love you!" + +It was Baldwin of Iowa that made the first speech. He was one of the +very few men--I had almost said of the two men--that we in the galleries +had the pleasure of hearing; and we could hear every word. + +He began with a glowing tribute to Blaine. At the first sentence our old +man flung his gray head in the air with the gesture of the war horse +when he catches the first, far-off scream of the trumpet. He leaned +forward, his features twitching, his eyes burning; the fan dropped out +of his limp hand; his fingers, rapping his palm, clenched and loosened +themselves unconsciously in an overpowering agitation. His face was +white as marble, with ominous blue shadows: but every muscle was +astrain; his chest expanded; his shoulders drew back; his mouth was as +strong and firm as a young man. For a second we could see what he had +been at his prime. + +Then the orator's climax came, and the name--the magic name that was its +own campaign cry in itself. + +The old partisan leaped to his feet; he waved his hands above his head; +wild, strange, in his white flame of excitement. He shouted; and we all +shouted with him, the McKinley man and the Reed man vieing with each +other (I here offer my testimony as to the scope and quality of that +young Reed man's voice), and the air rang about us: "Blaine! Blaine! +James G. Blaine!" He shrieked the name again and again, goading into +life the waning applause. Then in an instant his will snapped under the +strain; his gray beard tilted in the air; his gray head went back on his +neck. + +The Canton man and I caught him in time to ease the fall. We were helped +to pull him into the aisle. There were four of us by this time, his +granddaughter and the Reed "rooter," besides the Canton man and myself. + +We carried him into the wide passageway that led to the seats. The Reed +young man ran for water, and, finding none, quickly returned with a +glass of lemonade (he was a young fellow ready in shifts), and with it +we bathed the old man's face. + +Presently he came back, by degrees, to the world; he was not conscious, +but we could see that he was not going to die. + +"He'll be all right in no time," declared the Reed man. "You had better +go back and get your seats, and keep mine!" + +I assured both men that I could not return for more than a short time, +having an engagement for luncheon. + +"That's all right," said the Reed man, turning to the Canton man, "I +ain't shouting when Foraker comes; you are. You go back and keep my +seat; I'll come in later on Hobart." + +So the kindly Canton man returned to the convention for which he was +longing, and we remained in our little corner by the window, the young +girl fanning the old man, and the young man on the watch for a boy with +water. He darted after one; and then the girl turned to me. + +No one disturbed us. Below the traffic of a great city roared up to us +and a brass band clanged merrily. The crowd hurried past, drawn by the +tidings that "the fight was on," and choked the outlets and suffocated +the galleries. + +"He's been that way ever since he read, suddenly, that Blaine was +dead"--she said, lowering her voice to keep it safe from his failing +ears--"he had a kind of a stroke, and ever since he's had the notion +that Blaine was alive and was going to be nominated, and his heart was +set on going here. Mother was afraid; but when--when he cried to go, I +could not help taking him--I didn't know but maybe it might help him; he +was such a smart man and such a good man; and he has had trouble about +mortgaging the farm; and he worked so hard to get the money back, so +mother would feel right. All through the hot weather he worked, and I +guess that's how it happened. You don't think it's hurt him? The doctor +said he might go. He told T--, a gentleman friend of mine who asked +him." + +"Oh, dear, no," I exclaimed, "it has been good for him." + +I asked for her address, which fortunately was near, and I offered her +the cab that was waiting for me. I had some ado to persuade her to +accept it; but when I pointed to her grandfather's pale face she did +accept it, thanking me in a simple but touching way, and, of course, +begging me to visit her at Izard, Ohio. + +All this while we had been sedulously fanning the old man, who would +occasionally open his eyes for a second, but gave no other sign of +returning consciousness. + +The young Reed man came back with the water. He was bathing the old +man's forehead in a very skillful and careful way, using my +handkerchief, when an uproar of cheering shook the very floor under us +and the rafters overhead. + +"Who is it?" the old man inquired, feebly. + +"Foraker! Foraker!" bellowed the crowd. + +"He's nominated him!" muttered the old man; but this time he did not +attempt to rise. With a smile of great content he leaned against his +grand-daughter's strong young frame and listened, while the cheers +swelled into a deafening din, an immeasurable tumult of sound, out of +which a few strong voices shaped the chorus of the Battle Cry of +Freedom, to be caught up by fifteen thousand throats and pealed through +the walls far down the city streets to the vast crowd without. + +The young Reed "boomer," carried away by the moment, flung his free hand +above his head and yelled defiantly: "Three cheers for the man from +Maine!" Instantly he caught at his wits, his color turned, and he lifted +an abashed face to the young girl. + +"But, really, you know, that ain't giving nothing away," he apologized, +plucking up heart. "May I do it again?" + +The old partisan's eye lighted. "Now they're shouting! That's like old +times! Yes, do it again, boy! Blaine! Blaine! James G. Blaine!" + +He let us lead him to the carriage, the rapturous smile still on his +lips. The "rooter" and I wormed our way through the crowd back to the +seats which the kind Canton man had kept for us. + +We were quite like old acquaintances now; and he turned to me at once. +"Was there ever a politician or a statesman, since Henry Clay, loved so +well as James G. Blaine?" + + + + +MAX--OR HIS PICTURE + + +A knock sounded on the principal's door. "That's Florence," she thought; +and she sighed in the same breath. The principal had secretly liked +Florence Raimund, the best of her two hundred girls, for three years; +and, sometimes, she suspected that Florence knew it. Miss Wing sat at +her desk. It was a large desk of oak, always kept in blameless order. No +one could recall seeing more than one letter at a time lying on the +blotter. Any others, yet unread, lay in the wicker tray to the left; the +letters read but not answered were in the wicker tray to the right; the +answered letters were in appropriate pigeonholes or in ashes, Miss Wing +being a firm believer in fire as a confidential agent. Above the desk +hung the most interesting object in the room, to the school-girls; in +fact it would be hard to gage justly the influence this one, mute and +motionless, had over their young imaginations; or how far it was +responsible for the rose-tinted halo that beyond doubt, glorified the +principal for them. The object was a picture, the picture of a young man +in the uniform of a captain in the German cuirassiers. His thick light +hair was brushed back from a fine and candid forehead. A smile creased +his cheek under the warlike curl of his mustachios. It was a smile so +happy and so friendly in its happiness, that it won the beholder. The +eyes were not large, but even in the black and white of a photograph +(the portrait was an ordinary cabinet _carte_) they seemed to sparkle. +The young fellow's figure was superb, and held with a military precision +and jauntiness. One said, looking at the whole presence, "This man is a +good fellow." Viewing him more closely, one might add, "And he is in +love." The picture was framed handsomely in a gilded frame. On the desk +below, an exquisite vase of Venice lifted a single, perfect rose. For +fifteen years a flower had always bloomed thus. Miss Wing had hung the +picture herself, fifteen years ago. Then, she was the new principal, and +the school was but half its size; and the village people exclaimed at +trusting "such a girl" with so much responsibility. During those fifteen +years the new building had been built, the school had grown and +flourished; and the gray had crept into Margaret Wing's bright hair. She +had so often put on mourning for her near kindred that she had assumed +it as her permanent garb. To the certain (and ecstatic) knowledge of the +school, she had refused divers offers of marriage from citizens of good +repute and substance. But during all the changing years, the picture had +kept its place and the fresh flowers had bloomed below. No girl could +remember the desk without the picture; and when the old girls visited +the school, their eyes would instinctively seek it in its old place; +always with a little moving of the heart. Yet no one ever alluded to it +to the principal; and no one, not her most trusted teacher, nor her best +loved pupil, had ever heard the principal speak of it. The name of the +pictured soldier, his story, his relation to Miss Wing; Miss Wing's +nearest kindred and friends knew as much about all these as the +school--and that was nothing. Nevertheless, the school tradition +reported part of a name on the authority of a single incident. Years ago +an accident happened to the picture. It was the principal's custom to +carry it with her on her journeys, however brief; always taking it down +and putting it back in its place herself. On this occasion the floor had +been newly polished, and in hanging the picture her chair on which she +stood slipped and she fell, while the picture dropped out of her grasp. +One of the girls, who was passing, ran to her aid; but she had crawled +toward the picture and would have it in her hands before she allowed the +girl to aid her to rise--a circumstance, you may be sure, not likely to +escape the sharp young eyes. Neither did these same eyes miss the +further circumstance that the jar had shifted the _carte_ in the frame +and a line of writing, hitherto hidden, was staring out at the world. +The hand was the sharp, minute German hand, but the words were English; +the girl took them in at an eyeblink, as she handed the picture to Miss +Wing: "_Thine for ever, Max._" Miss Wing made no comment; perhaps she +supposed that the girl had not seen, perhaps--in any case she was +silent. + +Of course, the new light flooded the school gossip immediately. But +there never came any more; every new girl was free to work her own will +on Miss Wing's romance. Was "Max" dead? Had they parted because of any +act on the woman's part? Surely he could not have been false, to receive +that daily oblation of flowers. It was more likely that she thus +expressed an imperishable regret. Youth, ever fanciful, played with all +manner of dainty and plaintive variations on the theme. Its very mystery +was its poignant charm; since each tender young soul created a new +romance and a new appeal. Elusive and pathetic, it hovered on the edge +of these young lives, like the perfume of a flower. And its influence +was the more potent that it asked for nothing. It is not too much to say +that the spectacle of that gentle and reticent faithfulness was the +strongest element in the school atmosphere. Certainly, because of it, +Miss Wing had greater power over her scholars. She was a woman of +ability and gentle force; by nature a little aloof, a little precise, +able to feel deeply, but not able to express her sympathies or her pain. +Without her mysterious sorrow, she would have seemed to young girls a +thought too admirable; they would have been chilled by her virtues; but +as it was, their perception that she had lived deeply, that she had +suffered, that she had been loved and had loved eternally, opened their +hearts. They would have admired her, now they adored her. By degrees, +and insensibly to herself, she became the confessor of her little +world. After they left school, her girls brought her their perplexities +of the heart. Wives came to her with cruel dilemmas which they shrank +from revealing to their own mothers--perhaps because the mothers could +not be trusted to plead for the erring husband so well; for a woman who +loves complains, not to be justified herself, but to hear her lover's +misconduct excused and his love proved against her doubts. Before they +left school, the girls confessed their faults and failings and strivings +of conscience with the same eagerness with which they asked counsel in +their innocent romances of friendship or the sorrows of trigonometry, +and they accepted any penance directed, not only with patience, but a +kind of exaltation natural to youth, which finds a secret joy in the +exercise of its own fortitude. + +To-day, however, Miss Wing sat before the picture which so many young +eyes had studied with such vague, yet ardent, sympathy, and pondered +over a confidence that had not come. The lack of its coming hurt her; +and the tap on her door was welcome, for she thought, "It is she--coming +to tell me. Oh, I hope he is the right man." + +At her response, the door swung open with a jerk, and the dark-eyed girl +who entered was catching her breath, although she tried to make the +quick intakes noiseless. There was a look of pale resolution on her +features. + +"Have you come to let me congratulate you, my dear?" said the principal, +rising. The girl colored scarlet. "I've come because I had to, because I +couldn't deceive you," she blurted. "Miss Wing, it isn't so. I let Miss +Parker think so; but I'm not engaged to him." + +"Sit down, dear," said Miss Wing. The soft cadence of her voice did not +roughen. She sat down when her guest sat, and leaned back in her desk +chair, folding her slim, white hands. There were flashing rings on her +hands; and the girls used to wonder which ring "Max" had given her. They +favored the sapphire, set between two diamonds, because of its beauty +("a real Cashmere, you know"), and because, whether she wore other rings +or not, this always kept its place. + +"Now, tell me," said Miss Wing. + +"I had a letter from him this morning; it was just a note in one of +Helen Grier's"--the girl's lithe form was erect in the chair, every +muscle tense; she looked past Miss Wing to the wall and spoke in +toneless voice; no one could see that she was driving straight on to her +purpose, over her own writhing nerves--"all he said was that he had been +called back to Germany--" + +"Is he a German? Miss Parker said his name was Cutler." + +"It is Butler," the girl said, flinging her head back, while a spark +crept into her liquid, troubled, dark eyes, "but he _is_ a German. Don't +you know the Butlers in 'Wallenstein?' You know he was a real man; and +he founded a family. He--my--my friend is the Count von Butler." Miss +Wing's chair, like other desk chairs, was set on a pivot; she turned +very slightly and slowly, at the same time resting her elbow on the +desk. The girl ventured a timid glance at her, and thought that she +looked sterner, wherefore her heart sank; but she only continued the +faster: "He isn't in America just to travel; he was sent by his +government to watch the Cuban war. He's very brave; and he isn't a bit +like a foreigner and hasn't any nasty supercilious notions about women. +Mr. Grier says he has a _future_. And really, Miss Wing, he is just +like a--a--a kind of knight." + +"Where did you meet him?" + +"At Helen's last summer. And he was going out to Minneapolis to see +papa, I--I think. But he got a cable of his uncle's death. And his two +little cousins died last year; so now he is the head of the family; and +he must go to Germany at once. For his father is dead, you know. So he +wrote (in Helen's letter, because he is so--so awfully proper!) asking +to let him come here and take me to drive--in the American fashion. I +know who put him up to that scheme; it was Helen. I had to ask Miss +Parker, because you were out; and she said if he wasn't a relation or +the man I was going to marry I couldn't go. 'Of course, if he were the +man you expect to marry,' she said, and--and I--I said, 'But he is!' +Just like that. I can't fancy how I came to say such a thing, but when +it was said I didn't know how to explain; and I was so awfully ashamed; +and, besides"--she lifted her eyes in the frank and direct gaze that +Miss Wing always liked--"besides, I do want to see him." + +"And do you expect him to ask you to marry him?" said Miss Wing, with a +deepening of the color on her cheek, which went out suddenly like the +flame of a lamp in the wind. + +Florence Raimund blushed again, but this time she laughed: "I don't +know. He is so awfully proper," said she, "and he hasn't had a chance to +ask papa; but--I think he wants to." + +"In that case, isn't he the man whom you expect to marry?" asked Miss +Wing dryly. "But it was deceiving her just the same. I am glad you came, +Florence." + +Here the girl looked up; and something in Miss Wing's eyes made her dash +across the room to fling herself on her knees before that lady with an +inarticulate gasp between a sob and a laugh, and the sentences came in a +rush: "I _had_ to come! I couldn't deceive you if I never saw him again. +And besides, I hoped you would think of some way!" + +"And you escape quite unpunished?" said Miss Wing gently. + +At which the black head sank lower, while a smothered voice mumbled: "Do +you think I--_liked_ it, coming to tell?" + +Miss Wing smoothed her hair. "It would have pained me very much if you +had not come. Tell me; whether he sees you or not, will he not write to +your father? Do you think his feeling is so slight that a disappointment +will turn it?" + +The black head threw itself up bravely and the fearless young eyes met +Miss Wing's pensive brown ones. "No, Miss Wing, I know it will make no +difference." + +Miss Wing stifled a sigh; it may be that she was not so sure of the firm +purpose of a lover; she spoke more gently: "It is only the +disappointment, then, if you can't see him?" + +The girl's face quivered a little. + +"Perhaps I am foolish," said Miss Wing, "but I think it _would_ be a +disappointment very hard to bear. Still, you must admit that parents do +not send their children to school expecting them to become engaged to be +married; on the contrary, there is a tacit pledge that we shall protect +our wards from any entanglement. But this did not happen at school; the +only question is, ought I to prevent it going any farther? My dear, do +you have confidence in me?" + +"Yes, Miss Wing," said the girl. + +"Of course, I do not think that I ought to consent to your driving alone +together." + +The girl drew a long sigh. "I suppose not," she breathed, in dismal +resignation. + +"But I should like him to come here, to see me; and then, if I find him +to be what your father would approve, you may see him here; and we shall +all have to explain things together, I fancy, to your father." + +The girl drew another, a very different, sigh, and impulsively kissed +Miss Wing's hand. She tried to speak, and could only murmur, "Oh, I do +love you!" + +"And so, if you will tell Graf von Butler--what is his Christian name, +Florence?" + +"Max," said the girl, very low, for she felt the presence of the +picture, on which she had not once turned her eyes. Before she spoke, +under a pretense of a pull at her skirt, she slipped her hand out of the +hand with the sapphire ring. Yet her excited young nerves vibrated at +the slight cough which came as the principal changed her position, +before she said, in her usual tone: "It is a fine name. Well, Florence, +you will tell Count Max von Butler that I shall hope to see him. +And--will you trust me?" + +The girl told her that she would trust her utterly, and she knew that +it would be right; and oh, she was so happy. And she came back to say, +with the tears in her eyes, "I shall be grateful to you as long as I +live." + +Miss Wing stood in the center of the room, smiling, until the door +closed. But then in a second she was at the door, almost fiercely, but +noiselessly, twisting the key in the lock. From the door she passed to +the windows and dropped the shades. At last, safe from every chance of +espial, she sat down again in her chair before the desk, leaned her +elbows on the desk, and looked desperately, miserably, into the joyous +face of the picture. She did not speak, but her thoughts took on words +and sank like hot lead into her heart. "Max Butler! Max Butler! The +little nephew he told me about. And _he_ has been alive all these years; +and happy; with little sons, while I--I have lied to these trusting +girls. It was wicked and shameless. I deceived myself; then I deceived +them. I wonder why. I knew what they were thinking. How dare I look that +honest child in the face! I suppose she wonders like the rest why I have +not told any one of my romance. And it is simply that there was nothing +to tell. Nothing." She looked into the soldier's happy eyes while her +lips curled and she murmured, drearily and bitterly, "I haven't even the +right to be angry with you, poor lad. What did you do? _You_ are not my +Max; I only made him up out of my heart--like children playing a game!" +Her mind drifted dizzily through shapeless and inconsequent visions of +the past. She was seeing again the grim pile of the ruined castle, the +masses of broken shadow, the intricate carving on arch and architrave +and plinth, the wavering mass of limbs and tree-trunks on the green +sward; and she, with her twisted ankle, was kneeling, trying to peer +through the shrubbery for her lost companions. Did he come by chance? +She had seen the handsome young officer daily, for a week. His +great-aunt was Margaret's right-hand neighbor at the pension table +d'hôte, a withered relic of Polish nobility with fine, black eyes in a +face like a hickory nut; who wore shabby gowns and magnificent jewels, +frankly smoked cigarettes, and seemed to have a venomous tale ready to +fit any name mentioned in conversation--with one exception, her +nephew's. According to her, Max's father was a swine and his mother a +fool and his brother a popinjay, and his sister had no respect for her +betters; but Max had a heart. It was understood at the pension that she +was arranging a great match for him. In spite of the general disapproval +of his aunt, he was a favorite, he was so simple, amiable, and polite. +Even the American professor admitted that for a man "who had won the +iron cross in such a spectacular fashion, he was very modest and really +more like an American than a German officer," thus paying the +unconsciously arrogant compliment kept by every race for engaging +aliens. Margaret's first sight of him was not under the shelter of +conventionalities. It happened that the countess' ferocious pet (and the +terror of the pension), a Great Dane, was trying to eat up a little +girl, but fortunately had begun with her petticoats. The court of the +house was the scene of the fray; a large, timid cook, the only witness, +was waving a copper kettle full of the meringue that she was beating, in +one hand, and the great wire whip in the other, while she shrieked +impartially on Heaven and the police. Margaret heard the din. She ran to +the spot. Being a New England woman, she didn't scream; one swift glance +went from the child's writhing body and the dog's horrible head to the +wailing cook. In two strides she caught the kettle out of a fat and +agitated German hand and hurled the whole sticky, white mass full at the +dog's eyes; then, as the blinded and astounded beast flung his head back +to howl, and spattered the world with meringue, she snatched up the +child and sent her flying into the door and the cook. The dog was +smeared with meringue, she was smeared, the child was smeared, the cook +was smeared; and now a beautiful white and gold officer, who bounded +over the wall and fell upon the dog with his saber and two heels, was +smeared the most lavishly of all! No wonder Frau Müller (visible aloft, +in an artless German toilet of ease and without her teeth), the countess +(who was a gazing stock, for the same reason), and Augustine, her maid, +the three Russians on the second floor, and the three Americans on the +third, filled the windows with polyglot consternation! The consequence +of it all was that when the Count von Butler was formally presented to +Miss Wing that evening, she blushed. She was too pale and listless to be +pretty, but when she blushed she was enchanting. Remembering the +meringue, she smiled and ventured an upward glance; and, for the first +time in her life, met the admiration in the eyes of a man. At this time +Margaret was thirty years old and had never been asked in marriage. She +had spent most of the thirty years in a boarding-school, as pupil or as +teacher; and she had brought from her cloistered life a single vivid +feeling, a passionate friendship which death had ended. The sapphire +ring was her poor friend's last token. + +To be thirty and never to have been sought like other girls, leaves a +chill in the heart. It may be lonely never to have loved, but it is +bleak never to have been loved. Margaret remembered her delicate, +girlish dreams with a recoil of humiliation; they seemed to her almost +immodest. She thought she was too old to wear hats, and wondered whether +she ought not to discard the pinks and light blues which poor Elly had +liked on her, for more sedate colors. But she wore pink after she met +Max Butler. Yet he never saw her save in the presence of others. He was +full of little, graceful attentions, but he showed the same attentions +to the portly clergyman's widow and the meritorious but cross-eyed +teacher of fifty, who formed Miss Wing's "party"; it was only his eyes, +his eyes always following her, approvingly, delighting, admiring, +pleading, speaking to her as they spoke to no other woman. She told +herself that it was just the pleasant, foreign way; and she wrote to her +friends in America, "The German officers have very agreeable, +deferential manners; I think they are much more gentle and polite and +have a higher respect for women than the French or Italians." And he +said no word, even of friendship, until that afternoon at the +Heidelberger Schloss. + +He came upon her almost immediately, scrambling up the bank at a rate +which had worked woe to his uniform. He was torn, he was scratched, he +was stained with mud and grass; and he was beaming with delight. "I have +seen you from below," he exclaimed in his careful English, "so I came +up. Will you excuse?" Then his mood changed, perceiving her plight, and +he insisted on tearing his handkerchief into strips to bind her ankle. +It seemed absurd to refuse his aid, which he offered quite simply; but +his hands trembled a little over the knots. "It will be most easy, I +think," said he, "that you should let me assist you a small way, to the +_restauracion_; so I can get the carriage, and you can have some ice +cream. Again, to-day, is it burned--" + +She had laughed and said that she never had heard of burned ice cream. +He laughed, too, and explained that it was burned as a custard, and +somehow under cover of this she let him put her hand on his shoulder and +his arm about her waist. She was grateful to him for the matter-of-fact +manner in which he did it all, saying, "You will have to be my comrade +that has been wounded, and I will help him off the field; so I did, +once, with my colonel; it is better than to wait until I could bring +help." In this fashion they walked for some twenty minutes. They were +minutes not entirely disfigured by her physical pain, for it was a +comfort to be helped by so strong and kind a friend. The comfort +brightened almost into pleasure, as they drove homeward in a shabby +_droschky_, with all the circuit of the horizon flooded with softest +rose and gold, reflecting the cloudless glory of the west. Borne along +through that unreal and lovely radiance, past the hills checkered with +vineyards and ripening grain, which the sunlight blazoned in green and +gold like the initials of an old missal; they talked as one friend would +talk to another. At least that was her phrase, and she admitted to +herself that she had not been so nearly happy since Elly died. "I didn't +know a man could be so--so kind," she said. + +He told her of his country and his home; and how he loved the hills that +his fathers had always owned, and the rugged, simple, faithful people; +he told her of the plans of his father and himself for them; he told her +of his father, who had the best heart in the world, but was credited +with a fierce temper simply because his voice was loud; and his mother, +who was so gentle that every one loved her; and his handsome sister, and +his brother, who was a diplomat and far cleverer than he; and his little +brother who died and would have no one carry him in his pain but Max +("Ah, he was the most clever and the most beautiful of us all!"), and +Max, his little nephew, who looked like the dead boy. "I hope you will +see my home and them all," he said; "to-morrow, I shall see them, then, +the same day, I shall be back here--with you." + +And then, by degrees, she won him to talk of his profession, of his +hopes, his ambitions, his ideals; of all those intimate and cherished +things which lie at the bottom of the soul and only rise for a friend's +eyes. It seemed to her that she could read his character in the hints +given by his words, as one would fill an outline sketch with perspective +and details. There was certainly a fascination in this revelation; +candor, after all, was a virtue, as well as reticence. Perhaps her new +friend was a little mediæval, but he was as refined as if he had been +all modern. + +By now they were rattling through the modern town of Heidelberg, the +plain walls of which looked bare after the lawless pomp of carving and +form on the old castle; they had not even the bizarre, affected grace of +the architecture then decking American countrysides. But Margaret +thought how homelike and honest the houses looked; staunch and trusty, +like the German. Butler, just then, was praising American buggies, from +which he made a general transition to the customs of society. "In +America, is it not," says he, "the young ladies drive alone with young +men?" + +"Yes, very often. But not with you?" + +"Oh, no, _mein fraulein_, this is the first time I am alone with a young +lady!" + +She had called herself old for so long that there was a distinct +pleasure in being "a young lady" to him, and she had not time to +remember it partook of the nature of deceit, because he sent a wave of +confusion over her by continuing: "In America, also, one would propose +marriage to a lady, herself, before to her father?" + +"It is our custom," agreed Margaret, "but"--with her prim teacher's +air--"your custom is far more decorous." + +His face fell, then promptly brightened. "Perhaps it would be best to +speak to both, so near the same time one can. But this is another thing +you must explain me. How is it most preferable to the lady, that one +shall write or shall come--" + +"Oh, write," said Margaret quickly. How silly of her to suddenly feel so +frightened; she wished that she were in a room and not in a carriage +with him; involuntarily she shrank back into her own corner, and she +found that she was playing with the soiled and frayed edges of a tear in +the cloth of the side-curtain and watching her pearl-colored fingers. +Those gloves she had put on new, that day. How reckless! But she had not +the resolution to desist. His voice dragged a little, "Ah, yes, if she +would refuse, but if--_not_?" + +"In any case," said she. + +"Look!" he exclaimed, "at the sunset. Ah, is it not lovely?" + +Of a sudden they were looking, not at the sunset, but into each other's +eyes; and all about them was that wonderful, transfiguring glow, and it +seemed as if there were nothing in the whole world that he had not said. + +"Is it to the right, Herr Captain?" asked the driver, turning on his +seat to divide a benign and semi-intoxicated smile between them. + +Then it was hardly a moment until the yellow stucco of the pension +jumped at their eyes, around a corner; and there were the clergyman's +widow and the teacher at the door. They fell upon the carriage in a +clamor of explanation and sympathy; they were at her side when he bowed +over her hand and kissed it, saying, "_Aufwiedersehen_." + +That was all. There was never any more. He did not come again. Or if he +came, she was not there, since the next day they were on their way to +Bremen, summoned by cable to her sister's deathbed. She never heard from +him or of him again. Yet she had left her American address with his aunt +for any letters that might need to be forwarded, and a stiff little +note of thanks and farewell--a perfectly neutral note such as any friend +might give or receive. There followed weeks crowded with sorrow and +business (the sister was a widow without children, and she shared her +estate with her other sister); and Margaret imputed her deep depression +to these natural and sufficient causes. She rated herself for vanity in +reading her own meanings into a courteous young man's looks and his +intelligent interest in national difference of manners. She fostered her +shame with the New Englander's zest for self-torture. But one afternoon, +without warning, there fell upon her a deep and hopeless peace. It was +as if some invisible power controlled and changed all the currents of +her thought. She _knew_ that her friend was not faithless or careless; +he was dead. She began to weep gently, thinking pitifully of his old +father with the loud voice, and his fragile mother and the sister and +brother and the little nephew. "Poor people," she murmured, wishing, for +the first time in her life, to make some sign of her sorrow for them to +them, she who always paid her toll of sympathy, but dreaded it and knew +that she was clumsy. She remembered the day at the castle, and went +over again each word, each look. A sensation that she could not +understand, full of awe and sweetness, possessed her. It was +indescribable, unthinkable, but it was also irresistible. Under its +impulse she went to a trunk in another room, from which she had not yet +removed all the contents, and took out her Heidelberg photographs. She +said to herself that she would look at the scenes of that day. In her +search she came upon a package of her own pictures which had come the +morning of the day that she had gone. She could not remember any details +of receiving them, except that she had been at the photographer's the +day before and paid for them. When they came she was in too great +agitation (they were just packing) to more than fling them into a tray. +She could not tell why she took the _cartes_ out of the envelope and ran +them listlessly through her fingers; but at the last of the package she +uttered a cry. The last _carte_ was a picture of Max, with the +inscription in his own hand, "Thine for ever." It is not exact to say +that with the finding of the picture her doubt of his affection for her +vanished; for in truth, she had no doubts, the possession was too +absolute. But the sight came upon her as the presence of a mortal being, +alive and visible, comes on one when he enters a room. And there is no +question that it was a comfort; if she had really loved Max, at this +time, the knowledge of his death would have been her cruelest shock; for +then she could have no hope to meet him again in the world--no hope of +some explanation and the happiness of life together. But she was not in +love with the young German, she was touched by his admiration, she +admired him tenderly, she felt the moving of a subtle attraction which +she called friendship and which might pass into a keener feeling; but +she did not love him. Not then. Therefore, she felt a sweetness in her +pain; she could respect herself once more; she had a new and mystical +joy; for was she not beloved above women? Had not her lover come to her, +through what strange paths who may know, to comfort her? This is the +story of the picture. She could not tell it. Nor did she; but she hung +Max's portrait on the walls of her little parlor; and she hung opposite +a picture of the castle; and from that day, never a day passed that it +did not influence her. She used to think her thoughts before it. She +came to it with her grief for the loss of kindred and friends, with her +loneliness, with her anxieties, with her aspirations, her plans, her +cares for others, her slowly dawning interests and affections. She was a +reticent woman, who might never have allowed her heart to expand to her +husband himself, beyond a certain limit; but she hid nothing from Max. +In time, she fell into the habit of talking to the picture. She called +him Max. The first time she spoke his name she blushed. She made her +toilets for him more than for the world; but whether Max could admire +them or not, it is certain that the girls knew every change in her +pretty gowns. Her sense of having been loved had its effect on her +manner, and a deeper effect on her heart. At thirty she was a New +England nun; at forty she was the woman who understands. The love which +the shrinking and critical girl repelled at its first step toward her, +without knowing, the woman who pitied and who understood, attracted, +quite as unconsciously. + +"It is very queer, Max," she said, "that in my old age men should want +to marry me. But I like you best." + +Only the day before, she had said that; and she had said, "I am happy, +Max. Isn't it strange! But I am." Only yesterday--and now there was +nothing. The Max that she had grown to love, with the gradual, +imperceptible advance of affection, sweet to her shy nature--that Max +had never been. No doubt all the while, over in Germany, a stout and +phlegmatic German landlord had been caring for his vineyards and playing +the war lord in the landwehr and living very comfortably with the +doughfaced German girl whose hair was lighter than her complexion, whom +the countess wanted him to marry; a man as unlike the high-souled knight +of her fancy as--as she, herself, was unlike the girl's image! Worst of +all was her own weak, false behavior. "No," she cried, in an access of +bitterness, "the worst is that I can't feel _that_ the worst; I can only +feel I have lost him, for ever! I don't seem to mind that I have lost +myself!" + +Now she began to pace the room, trying to think clearly. Was it her duty +to tell Florence the story and let her tell the girls? The red-hot agony +of the idea seemed to her excited conscience an intimation that it _was_ +her duty from which she shrank because she was a selfish, hysterical, +dishonorable coward. Horrible as such abasement would be, if it were her +duty, she could do it; what she could not, what she _would_ not do, was +to tear the veil from that pure and mystical passion which had been the +flower of her heart. "Not if it cost me my soul," she said, with the +frozen quiet of despair; "it is awful, but I can't do it!" One thing did +remain; she could remove the picture. That false witness of what had +never been should go. No eyes should ever fall on it again. It should +never deceive more. She walked toward it firmly. She lifted her +hand--and it fell. "I can't!" she moaned. "I'll do it to-morrow." She +could not remember, in years, so weak a compromise offered her +conscience. + +But she felt a sense of respite, almost relief, once having decided, and +she recovered her composure enough to go to her chamber and bathe her +eyes. While she was thus engaged she heard a knock. "It is he," she said +quietly; "well, the sooner the better." + +It was he; he had come earlier than he expected, he explained; he was +most grateful for Miss Wing's kind message. He looked like his uncle, as +the members of a family will look alike. He was not so tall; he was not +so handsome. Perhaps most people would call him more graceful. And his +English was faultless; he must have spoken it from his childhood. In the +midst of his first sentences, before they had permitted him to take a +chair, his eyes traveled past Miss Wing's face. She perceived that he +saw the picture; she knew that she grew pale; but, to her amazement, a +calm like the calm which had wrapped her senses on the day of her +finding the picture, closed about her again. "I beg pardon?" said he. + +"Yes, that is Count von Butler's portrait," said she, in a clear voice, +without emotion. He was not so composed. "Then it _was_ you," he said. +Following her example, he took a chair and looked earnestly at the +pictured face. "When Miss Raimund spoke of you so warmly, I noticed that +the name was the same, and I determined to inquire, but it seemed to me +unlikely. Yet it is. Miss Wing, I have a message to you, from my uncle." + +She noticed that there were gold motes in the air; and his pleasant, +blond face seemed to wander through them; the room was full of sunlight. + +"I was with him when he died." + +That was a strange thing to hear when the message of his uncle's death +had come to him in another country; she hoped that her brain was not +going to play her false. + +"It was fifteen years ago last July, you know. I never knew how many +details you received, or only the bare fact in the papers." + +Fifteen years! fifteen years! What was that date he was giving? That was +the day on which she sailed for America, the day after--what was that +story he was telling of a visit and a fire and a child rescued and an +accident? But still she listened with the same iron composure. The next +words she heard distinctly. + +"It was like him to lose his life that way; and he did not grudge it. +Yet it was hard that I should be the only one of his blood with him. He +could speak with difficulty when he told me to take a lock of hair and +his signet ring to you. He dictated the address, himself, to me. 'You +must be sure and take it,' he said. 'It is to the lady that I hoped +would be my betrothed; you must tell grandmamma about it, too. She has +my picture and she knows--but tell her'--and then, I think his mind must +have wandered a little, for he smiled brightly at me, saying, '_I'll_ +tell her, myself,' and then the doctors came. He said nothing more, +only once, they told me, he murmured something about his betrothed. But +I had the ring; he took it off his finger and kissed it and gave it to +me. Child as I was, I knew that it was sacred. I wrapped it in the +paper, and afterward I put the lock of hair beside it. So soon as I +could, I went to Heidelberg, to the pension. You had gone and there was +no address, no trace--" + +"I left my address with the countess--" + +"My aunt is dead," said the young German gravely. "I would not criticize +her, but she had her own choice of a wife for my uncle; I do not think +one could trust her with addresses." + +"We all gave ours to her to give to Frau Müller." + +"That is why, then, I could not find you. My grandmother also tried. But +you were gone. I thought of the banks, long after, but I found nothing. +Often it has seemed dreadful that you should learn of this only through +the papers. But I could not tell whether--_anything_. When I came to +America, I confess it was always in my mind. I always carried my uncle's +little packet with me. I will have it sent to you." + +"Excuse me," said Miss Wing gently. "Will you please bring me the glass +of water--I--am afraid--I can't walk to it." + +But she would not let him pour the water on his handkerchief to bathe +her head. She sipped the water, and very pale, but quite herself, +brought him back to his own matters. She found that it was a cousin, +miscalled an uncle, in the German manner, who had died. It did not seem +to her that Max's nephew could be unworthy of any girl; yet she +conscientiously questioned him regarding his worldly affairs, for +Florence was an only daughter whose father had great possessions and a +distrust of adventurers, and at last she sent him forth to walk in the +grove with his sweetheart. "And speak to her," she said, with a look +that sank into his heart; "it is the American way; don't wait to write, +the American way is best." + +So, at last, she was alone. Alone with her lover who had always been +true; whose love many waters could not quench, and it was stronger than +death. She often pondered, afterward, whether there had not been some +note written to her and sent with the photographs; whether the countess +might not have tampered with the package, taking the note, but not +suspecting the picture. But none of these puzzles troubled her to-day. +She stood in front of the picture. All the years, an obscure and +virginal shyness had withheld her from ever overstepping her first +attitude. She told him every thought of her heart in regard to others +and herself. He was her dearest friend. She called him "Max" and "my +friend." Recalling the French use of the latter term, she used it +sometimes with a little flutter of the heart. But those innocent +endearments that a woman keeps for her lover's portrait--to make amends +for not proffering them of free will to the poor fellow himself--these +it would have shocked her to imagine. She never touched the picture, +save reverently to dust it, to take it down when she went away, to +replace it in its station when she returned. But now, trembling, yet not +blushing, she took the picture into her hands. She looked long into its +eyes; she kissed it with a light and timid kiss, and swiftly hid the +smiling face against her heart, pressing the frame in both hands, and +touching it with her cheek bent over it, while she whispered: "You _did_ +tell me. You came back and told me. I love you. Max, my knight--my +husband!" + + + + +THE STOUT MISS HOPKINS' BICYCLE + + +There was a skeleton in Mrs. Margaret Ellis' closet; the same skeleton +abode also in the closet of Miss Lorania Hopkins. + +The skeleton--which really does not seem a proper word--was the dread of +growing stout. They were more afraid of flesh than of sin. Yet they were +both good women. Mrs. Ellis regularly attended church, and could always +be depended on to show hospitality to convention delegates, whether +clerical or lay; she was a liberal subscriber to every good work; she +was almost the only woman in the church aid society that never lost her +temper at the soul-vexing time of the church fair; and she had a larger +clientele of regular pensioners than any one in town, unless it were her +friend, Miss Hopkins, who was "so good to the poor" that never a tramp +slighted her kitchen. Miss Hopkins was as amiable as Mrs. Ellis, and +always put her name under that of Mrs. Ellis, with exactly the same +amount, on the subscription papers. She could have given more, for she +had the larger income; but she had no desire to outshine her friend, +whom she admired as the most charming of women. + +Mrs. Ellis, indeed, was agreeable as well as good, and a pretty woman to +the bargain, if she did not choose to be weighed before people. Miss +Hopkins often told her that she was not really stout; she merely was a +plump, trim little figure. Miss Hopkins, alas! was really stout. The two +waged a warfare against the flesh equal to the apostle's in vigor, +although so much less deserving of praise. + +Mrs. Ellis drove her cook to distraction with divers dieting systems, +from Banting's and Doctor Salisbury's to the latest exhortations of some +unknown newspaper prophet. She bought elaborate gymnastic appliances, +and swung dumbbells and rode imaginary horses and propelled imaginary +boats. She ran races with a professional trainer, and she studied the +principles of Delsarte, and solemnly whirled on one foot and swayed her +body and rolled her head and hopped and kicked and genuflected in +company with eleven other stout and earnest matrons and one slim and +giggling girl who almost choked at every lesson. In all these exercises +Miss Hopkins faithfully kept her company, which was the easier, as Miss +Hopkins lived in the next house, a conscientious Colonial mansion with +all the modern conveniences hidden beneath the old-fashioned pomp. + +And yet, despite these struggles and self-denials, it must be told that +Margaret Ellis and Lorania Hopkins were little thinner for their +warfare. Still, as Shuey Cardigan, the trainer, told Mrs. Ellis, there +was no knowing what they might have weighed had they not struggled. + +"It ain't only the fat that's _on_ ye, moind ye," says Shuey, with a +confidential sympathy of mien; '"it's what ye'd naturally be getting in +addition. And first ye've got to peel off that, and then ye come down to +the other." + +Shuey was so much the most successful of Mrs. Ellis' reducers that his +words were weighty. And when at last Shuey said, "I got what you need," +Mrs. Ellis listened. "You need a bike, no less," says Shuey. + +"But I never could ride one!" said Margaret, opening her pretty brown +eyes and wrinkling her Grecian forehead. + +"You'd ride in six lessons," pronounced Shuey. + +"But how would I _look_, Cardigan?" + +"You'd look noble, ma'am!" + +"What do you consider the best wheel, Cardigan?" + +Fear of being accused of advertising prevents my giving Cardigan's +answer; it is enough that the wheel glittered at Mrs. Ellis' door the +very next day, and that a large pasteboard box was delivered by the +expressman the very next week. He went on to Miss Hopkins', and +delivered the twin of the box, with a similar yellow printed card +bearing the impress of the same great firm on the inside of the box +cover. For Margaret had hied her to Lorania Hopkins the instant Shuey +was gone. She presented herself breathless, a little to the +embarrassment of Lorania, who was sitting with her niece before a large +box of cracker-jack. + +"It's a new kind of candy; I was just _tasting_ it, Maggie," faltered +she, while the niece, a girl of nineteen, with the inhuman spirits of +her age, laughed aloud. + +"You needn't mind me," said Mrs. Ellis cheerfully; "I'm eating potatoes +now!" + +"Oh, Maggie!" Miss Hopkins breathed the words between envy and +disapproval. + +Mrs. Ellis tossed her brown head airily, not a whit abashed. "And I had +beer for luncheon, and I'm going to have champagne for dinner." + +"Maggie, how do you dare? Did they--did they taste good?" + +"They tasted _heavenly_, Lorania. Pass me the candy. I am going to try +something new--the thinningest thing there is. I read in the paper of +one woman who lost forty pounds in three months, and is losing still!" + +"If it is obesity pills, I--" + +"It isn't; it's a bicycle. Lorania, you and I must ride! Sibyl Hopkins, +you heartless child, what are you laughing at?" + +Lorania rose; in the glass over the mantel her figure returned her gaze. +There was no mistake (except that, as is often the case with stout +people, _that_ glass always increased her size), she was a stout lady. +She was taller than the average of women, and well proportioned, and +still light on her feet; but she could not blink away the records; she +was heavy on the scales. Did she stand looking at herself squarely, her +form was shapely enough, although larger than she could wish; but the +full force of the revelation fell when she allowed herself a profile +view, she having what is called "a round waist," and being almost as +large one way as another. Yet Lorania was only thirty-three years old, +and was of no mind to retire from society, and have a special phaeton +built for her use, and hear from her mother's friends how much her +mother weighed before her death. + +"How should _I_ look on a wheel?" she asked, even as Mrs. Ellis had +asked before; and Mrs. Ellis stoutly answered, "You'd look _noble_!" + +"Shuey will teach us," she went on, "and we can have a track made in +your pasture, where nobody can see us learning. Lorania, there's nothing +like it. Let me bring you the bicycle edition of _Harper's Bazar_." + +Miss Hopkins capitulated at once, and sat down to order her costume, +while Sibyl, the niece, revelled silently in visions of a new bicycle +which should presently revert to her. "For it's ridiculous, auntie's +thinking of riding!" Miss Sibyl considered. "She would be a figure of +fun on a wheel; besides, she can never learn in this world!" + +Yet Sibyl was attached to her aunt, and enjoyed visiting Hopkins Manor, +as Lorania had named her new house, into which she moved on the same day +that she joined the Colonial Dames, by right of her ancestor the great +and good divine commemorated by Mrs. Stowe. Lorania's friends were all +fond of her, she was so good-natured and tolerant, with a touch of dry +humor in her vision of things, and not the least a Puritan in her frank +enjoyment of ease and luxury. Nevertheless, Lorania had a good, +able-bodied New England conscience, capable of staying awake nights +without flinching; and perhaps from her stanch old Puritan forefathers +she inherited her simple integrity, so that she neither lied nor +cheated--even in the small whitewashed manner of her sex--and valued +loyalty above most of the virtues. She had an innocent pride in her +godly and martial ancestry, which was quite on the surface, and led +people who did not know her to consider her haughty. + +For fifteen years she had been an orphan, the mistress of a very large +estate. No doubt she had been sought often in marriage, but never until +lately had Lorania seriously thought of marrying. Sibyl said that she +was too unsentimental to marry. Really she was too romantic. She had a +longing to be loved, not in the quiet, matter-of-fact manner of her +suitors, but with the passion of the poets. Therefore the presence of +another skeleton in Mrs. Ellis' closet, because she knew about a certain +handsome Italian marquis who at this period was conducting an +impassioned wooing by mail. Margaret did not fancy the marquis. He was +not an American. He would take Lorania away. She thought his very virtue +florid, and suspected that he had learned his love-making in a bad +school. She dropped dark hints that frightened Lorania, who would +sometimes piteously demand, "Don't you think he _could_ care for +me--for--for myself?" Margaret knew that she had an overweening distrust +of her own appearance. How many tears she had shed first and last over +her unhappy plumpness it would be hard to reckon. She made no account of +her satin skin, or her glossy black hair, or her lustrous violet eyes +with their long black lashes, or her flashing white teeth; she glanced +dismally at her shape and scornfully at her features, good, honest, +irregular American features, that might not satisfy a Greek critic, but +suited each other and pleased her countrymen. And then she would sigh +heavily over her figure. Her friend had not the heart to impute the +marquis' beautiful, artless compliments to mercenary motives. After all, +the Italian was a good fellow, according to the point of view of his own +race, if he did intend to live on his wife's money, and had a very +varied assortment of memories of women. + +But Margaret dreaded and disliked him all the more for his good +qualities. To-day this secret apprehension flung a cloud over the +bicycle enthusiasm. She could not help wondering whether at this moment +Lorania was not thinking of the marquis, who rode a wheel and a horse +admirably. + +"Aunt Lorania," said Sibyl, "there comes Mr. Winslow. Shall I run out +and ask him about those cloth-of-gold roses? The aphides are eating them +all up." + +"Yes, to be sure, dear; but don't let Ferguson suspect what you are +talking of; he might feel hurt." + +Ferguson was the gardener. Miss Hopkins left her note to go to the +window. Below she saw a mettled horse, with tossing head and silken +skin, restlessly fretting on his bit and pawing the dust in front of the +fence, while his rider, hat in hand, talked with the young girl. He was +a little man, a very little man, in a gray business suit of the best cut +and material. An air of careful and dainty neatness was diffused about +both horse and rider. He bent toward Miss Sibyl's charming person a +thin, alert, fair face. His head was finely shaped, the brown hair worn +away a little on the temples. He smiled gravely at intervals; the smile +told that he had a dimple in his cheek. + +"I wonder," said Mrs. Ellis, "whether Mr. Winslow can have a penchant +for Sibyl?" + +Lorania opened her eyes. At this moment Mr. Winslow had caught sight of +her at the window, and he bowed almost to his saddle-bow; Sibyl was +saying something at which she laughed, and he visibly reddened. It was a +peculiarity of his that his color turned easily. In a second his hat was +on his head and his horse bounded half across the road. + +"Hardly, I think," said Lorania. "How well he rides! I never knew any +one ride better--in this country." + +"I suppose Sibyl would ridicule such a thing," said Mrs. Ellis, +continuing her own train of thought, and yet vaguely disturbed by the +last sentence. + +"Why should she?" + +"Well, he is so little, for one thing, and she is so tall. And then +Sibyl thinks a great deal of social position." + +"He is a Winslow," said Lorania, arching her neck unconsciously--"a +lineal descendant from Kenelm Winslow, who came over in the _May_--" + +"But his mother--" + +"I don't know anything about his mother before she came here. Oh, of +course I know the gossip that she was a niece of the overseer at a +village poorhouse, and that her husband quarrelled with all his family +and married her in the poorhouse, and I know that when he died here she +would not take a cent from the Winslows, nor let them have the boy. She +is the meekest-looking little woman, but she must have an iron streak in +her somewhere, for she was left without enough money to pay the funeral +expenses, and she educated the boy and accumulated enough money to pay +for this place they have. + +"She used to run a laundry, and made money; but when Cyril got a place +in the bank she sold out the laundry and went into chickens and +vegetables; she told somebody that it wasn't so profitable as the +laundry, but it was more genteel, and Cyril being now in a position of +trust at the bank, she must consider _him_. Cyril swept out the bank. +People laughed about it, but, do you know, I rather liked Mrs. Winslow +for it. She isn't in the least an assertive woman. How long have we been +up here, Maggie? Isn't it four years? And they have been our next-door +neighbors, and she has never been inside the house. Nor he either, for +that matter, except once when it took fire, you know, and he came in +with that funny little chemical engine tucked under his arm, and took +off his hat in the same prim, polite way that he takes it off when he +talks to Sibyl, and said, 'If you'll excuse me offering advice, Miss +Hopkins, it is not necessary to move anything; it mars furniture very +much to move it at a fire. I think, if you will allow me, I can +extinguish this.' And he did, too, didn't he, as neatly and as coolly as +if it were only adding up a column of figures. And offered me the engine +as a souvenir of the occasion afterward." + +"Lorania, you never told me that!" + +"It seemed like making fun of him, when he had been so kind. I declined +as civilly as I could. I hope I didn't hurt his feelings. I meant to pay +a visit to his mother and ask them to dinner, but you know I went to +England that week, and somehow when I came back it was difficult. It +seems a little odd we never have seen more of the Winslows, but I fancy +they don't want either to intrude or to be intruded on. But he is +certainly very obliging about the garden. Think of all the slips and +flowers he has given us, and the advice--" + +"All passed over the fence. It is funny our neighborly good offices +which we render at arm's-length. How long have you known him?" + +"Oh, a long time. He is cashier of my bank, you know. First he was +teller, then assistant cashier, and now for five years he has been +cashier. The president wants to resign and let him be president, but he +hardly has enough stock for that. But Oliver says" (Oliver was Miss +Hopkins' brother) "that there isn't a shrewder or straighter banker in +the state. Oliver likes him. He says he is a sandy little fellow." + +"Well, he is," assented Mrs. Ellis. "It isn't many cashiers would let +robbers stab them and shoot them and leave them for dead rather than +give up the combination of the safe!" + +"He wouldn't take a cent for it, either, and he saved ever so many +thousand dollars. Yes, he _is_ brave. I went to the same school with him +once, and saw him fight a big boy twice his size--such a nasty boy, who +called me 'Fatty,' and made a kissing noise with his lips just to scare +me--and poor little Cyril Winslow got awfully beaten, and when I saw him +on the ground, with his nose bleeding and that big brute pounding him, I +ran to the water-bucket, and poured the whole bucket on that big +bullying boy and stopped the fight, just as the teacher got on the +scene. I cried over little Cyril Winslow. He was crying himself. 'I +ain't crying because he hurt me,' he sobbed; 'I'm crying because I'm so +mad I didn't lick him!' I wonder if he remembers that episode?" + +"Perhaps," said Mrs. Ellis. + +"Maggie, what makes you think he is falling in love with Sibyl?" + +Mrs. Ellis laughed. "I dare say he _isn't_ in love with Sibyl," said +she. "I think the main reason was his always riding by here instead of +taking the shorter road down the other street." + +"Does he always ride by here? I hadn't noticed." + +"Always!" said Mrs. Ellis. "_I_ had noticed." + +"I am sorry for him," said Lorania, musingly. "I think Sibyl is very +much taken with that young Captain Carr at the Arsenal. Young girls +always affect the army. He is a nice fellow, but I don't think he is the +man Winslow is. Now, Maggie, advise me about the suit. I don't want to +look like the escaped fat lady of a museum." + +Lorania thought no more of Sibyl's love affairs. If she thought of the +Winslows, it was to wish that Mrs. Winslow would sell or rent her +pasture, which, in addition to her own and Mrs. Ellis' pastures thrown +into one, would make such a delightful bicycle track. + +The Winslow house was very different from the two villas that were the +pride of Fairport. A little story and a half cottage peeped out on the +road behind the tall maples that were planted when Winslow was a boy. +But there was a wonderful green velvet lawn, and the tulips and sweet +peas and pansies that blazed softly nearer the house were as beautiful +as those over which Miss Lorania's gardener toiled and worried. + +Mrs. Winslow was a little woman who showed the fierce struggle of her +early life only in the deeper lines between her delicate eyebrows and +the expression of melancholy patience in her brown eyes. + +She always wore a widow's cap and a black gown. In the mornings she +donned a blue figured apron of stout and serviceable stuff; in the +afternoon, an apron of that sheer white lawn used by bishops and smart +young waitresses. Of an afternoon, in warm weather, she was accustomed +to sit on the eastern piazza, next to the Hopkins place, and rock as she +sewed. She was thus sitting and sewing when she beheld an extraordinary +procession cross the Hopkins lawn. First marched the tall trainer, Shuey +Cardigan, who worked by day in the Lossing furniture factory, and gave +bicycle lessons at the armory evenings. He was clad in a white sweater +and buff leggings, and was wheeling a lady's bicycle. Behind him walked +Miss Hopkins in a gray suit, the skirt of which only came to her +ankles--she, always so dignified in her toilets. + +"Land's sakes!" gasped Mrs. Winslow, "if she ain't going to ride a bike! +Well, what next?" + +What really happened next was the sneaking (for no other word does +justice to the cautious and circuitous movements of her) of Mrs. Winslow +to the stable, which had one window facing the Hopkins pasture. No cows +were grazing in the pasture. All around the grassy plateau twinkled a +broad brownish-yellow track. At one side of this track a bench had been +placed, and a table, pleasing to the eye, with jugs and glasses. Mrs. +Ellis, in a suit of the same undignified brevity and ease as Miss +Hopkins', sat on the bench supporting her own wheel. Shuey Cardigan was +drawn up to his full six feet of strength, and, one arm in the air, was +explaining the theory of the balance of power. It was an uncanny moment +to Lorania. She eyed the glistening, restless thing that slipped beneath +her hand, and her fingers trembled. If she could have fled in secret she +would. But since flight was not possible, she assumed a firm expression. +Mrs. Ellis wore a smile of studied and sickly cheerfulness. + +"Don't you think it is very _high_?" said Lorania. "I can _never_ get up +on it!" + +"It will be by the block at first," said Shuey, in the soothing tones of +a jockey to a nervous horse; "it's easy by the block. And I'll be +steadying it, of course." + +"Don't they have any with larger saddles? It is a _very_ small saddle." + +"They're all of a size. It wouldn't look sporty larger; it would look +like a special make. Yous wouldn't want a special make." + +Lorania thought that she would be thankful for a special make, but she +suppressed the unsportsmanlike thought. "The pedals are very small, too, +Cardigan. Are you _sure_ they can hold me?" + +"They could hold two of ye, Miss Hopkins. Now sit aisy and graceful as +ye would on your chair at home, hold the shoulders back, and toe in a +bit on the pedals--ye won't be skinning your ankles so much then--and +hold your foot up ready to get the other pedal. Hold light on the +steering-bar. Push off hard. _Now!_" + +"Will you hold me? I'm going--Oh, it's like riding an earthquake!" + +Here Shuey made a run, letting the wheel have its own wild way--to teach +the balance. "Keep the front wheel under you!" he cried cheerfully. +"Niver mind _where_ you go. Keep a-pedalling; whatever you do, keep +a-pedalling!" + +"But I haven't got but one pedal!" gasped the rider. + +"Ye lost it?" + +"No; I _never had_ but one! Oh, don't let me fall!" + +"Oh, ye lost it in the beginning; now, then, I'll hold it steady, and +you get both feet right. Here we go!" + +Swaying frightfully from side to side, and wrenched from capsizing the +wheel by the full exercise of Shuey's great muscles, Miss Hopkins reeled +over the track. At short intervals she lost her pedals, and her feet, +for some strange reason, instead of seeking the lost, simply curled up +as if afraid of being hit. She gripped the steering-handles with an iron +grasp, and her turns were such as an engine makes. Nevertheless Shuey +got her up the track for some hundred feet, and then by a herculean +sweep turned her round and rolled her back to the block. It was at this +painful moment, when her whole being was concentrated on the effort to +keep from toppling against Shuey, and even more to keep from toppling +away from him, that Lorania's strained gaze suddenly fell on the +frightened and sympathetic face of Mrs. Winslow. The good woman saw no +fun in the spectacle, but rather an awful risk to life and limb. Their +eyes met. Not a change passed over Miss Hopkins' features; but she +looked up as soon as she was safe on the ground, and smiled. In a +moment, before Mrs. Winslow could decide whether to run or to stand her +ground, she saw the cyclist approaching--on foot. + +"Won't you come in and sit down?" she said, smiling. "We are trying our +new wheels." + +And because she did not know how to refuse, Mrs. Winslow suffered +herself to be handed over the fence. She sat on the bench beside Miss +Hopkins in the prim attitude which had pertained to gentility in her +youth, her hands loosely clasping each other, her feet crossed at the +ankles. + +"It's an awful sight, ain't it?" she breathed, "those little shiny +things; I don't see how you ever git on them." + +"I don't," said Miss Hopkins. "The only way I shall ever learn to start +off is to start without the pedals. Does your son ride, Mrs. Winslow?" + +"No, ma'am," said Mrs. Winslow; "but he knows how. When he was a boy +nothing would do but he must have a bicycle, one of those things most as +big as a mill wheel, and if you fell off you broke yourself somewhere, +sure. I always expected he'd be brought home in pieces. So I don't think +he'd have any manner of difficulty. Why, look at your friend; she's most +riding alone!" + +"She could always do everything better than I," cried Lorania, with +ungrudging admiration. "See how she jumps off! Now I can't jump off any +more than I can jump on. It seems so ridiculous to be told to press hard +on the pedal on the side where you want to jump, and swing your further +leg over first, and cut a kind of figure eight with your legs, and turn +your wheel the way you don't want to go--all at once. While I'm trying +to think of all those directions I always fall off. I got that wheel +only yesterday, and fell before I even got away from the block. One of +my arms looks like a Persian ribbon." + +Mrs. Winslow cried out in unfeigned sympathy. She wished Miss Hopkins +would use her linament that she used for Cyril when he was hurt by the +burglars at the bank; he was bruised "terrible." + +"That must have been an awful time to you," said Lorania, looking with +more interest than she had ever felt on the meek little woman; and she +noticed the tremble in the decorously clasped hands. + +"Yes, ma'am," was all she said. + +"I've often looked over at you on the piazza, and thought how cozy you +looked. Mr. Winslow always seems to be home evenings." + +"Yes, ma'am. We sit a great deal on the piazza. Cyril's a good boy; he +wa'n't nine when his father died; and he's been like a man helping me. +There never was a boy had such willing little feet. And he'd set right +there on the steps and pat my slipper and say what he'd git me when he +got to earning money; and he's got me every last thing, foolish and all, +that he said. There's that black satin gown, a sin and a shame for a +plain body like me, but he would git it. Cyril's got a beautiful +disposition, too, jest like his pa's, and he's a handy man about the +house, and prompt at his meals. I wonder sometimes if Cyril was to git +married if his wife would mind his running over now and then and setting +with me awhile." + +She was speaking more rapidly, and her eyes strayed wistfully over to +the Hopkins piazza, where Sibyl was sitting with the young soldier. +Lorania looked at her pityingly. + +"Why, surely," said she. + +"Mothers have kinder selfish feelings," said Mrs. Winslow, moistening +her lips and drawing a quick breath, still watching the girl on the +piazza. "It's so sweet and peaceful for them, they forget their sons may +want something more. But it's kinder hard giving all your little +comforts up at once when you've had him right with you so long, and +could cook just what he liked, and go right into his room nights if he +coughed. It's all right, all right, but it's kinder hard. And beautiful +young ladies that have had everything all their lives might--might not +understand that a homespun old mother isn't wanting to force herself on +them at all when they have company, and they have no call to fear it." + +There was no doubt, however obscure the words seemed, that Mrs. Winslow +had a clear purpose in her mind, nor that she was tremendously in +earnest. Little blotches of red dabbled her cheeks, her breath came more +quickly, and she swallowed between her words. Lorania could see the +quiver in the muscles of her throat. She clasped her hands tight lest +they should shake. "He is in love with Sibyl," thought Lorania. "The +poor woman!" She felt sorry for her, and she spoke gently and +reassuringly: + +"No girl with a good heart can help feeling tenderly toward her +husband's mother." + +Mrs. Winslow nodded. "You're real comforting," said she. She was silent +a moment, and then said, in a different tone: "You ain't got a large +enough track. Wouldn't you like to have our pasture too?" + +Lorania expressed her gratitude, and invited the Winslows to see the +practice. + +"My niece will come out to-morrow," she said, graciously. + +"Yes? She is a real fine-appearing young lady," said Mrs. Winslow. + +Both the cyclists exulted. Neither of them, however, was prepared to +behold the track made and the fence down the very next morning when they +came out, about ten o'clock, to the west side of Miss Hopkins' +boundaries. + +"As sure as you live, Maggie," exclaimed Lorania, eagerly, "he's got it +all done! Now, that is something like a lover. I only hope his heart +won't be bruised as black and blue as I am with the wheel!" + +"Shuey says the only harm your falls do you is to take away your +confidence," said Mrs. Ellis. + +"He wouldn't say so if he could see my _knees_!" retorted Miss Hopkins. + +Mrs. Ellis, it will be observed, sheered away from the love affairs of +Mr. Cyril Winslow. She had not yet made up her mind. And Mrs. Ellis, who +had been married, did not jump at conclusions regarding the heart of man +so readily as her spinster friend. She preferred to talk of the bicycle. +Nor did Miss Hopkins refuse the subject. To her at this moment the most +important object on the globe was the shining machine which she would +allow no hand but hers to oil and dust. Both Mrs. Ellis and she were +simply prostrated (as to their mental powers) by this new sport. They +could not think nor talk nor read of anything but _the wheel_. + +Between their accidents, they obtained glimpses of an exquisite +exhilaration. And there was also to be counted the approval of their +consciences, for they felt that no Turkish bath could wring out moisture +from their systems like half an hour's pumping at the bicycle treadles. +Lorania during the month had ridden through one bottle of liniment and +two of witch hazel, and by the end of the second bottle could ride a +short distance alone. But Lorania could not yet dismount unassisted, and +several times she had felled poor Winslow to the earth when he rashly +adventured to stop her. Captain Carr had a peculiar, graceful fling of +the arm, catching the saddle bar with one hand while he steadied the +handles with the other. He did not hesitate in the least to grab +Lorania's belt if necessary. But poor modest Winslow, who fell upon the +wheel and dared not touch the hem of a lady's bicycle skirt, was as one +in the path of a cyclone, and appeared daily in a fresh pair of white +trousers. + +"Yous have now," Shuey remarked impressively, one day--"yous have now +arrived at the most difficult and dangerous period in learning the +wheel. It's similar to a baby when it's first learned to walk but ain't +yet got sense in walking. When it was little it would stay put wherever +ye put it, and it didn't know enough to go by itself, which is similar +to you. When I was holding ye you couldn't fall, but now you're off +alone depindent on yourself, object-struck by every tree, taking most +of the pasture to turn in, and not able to git off save by falling--" + +"Oh, couldn't you go with her somehow?" exclaimed Mrs. Winslow, appalled +at the picture. "Wouldn't a rope round her be some help? I used to put +it round Cyril when he was learning to walk." + +"Well, no, ma'am," said Shuey, patiently. "Don't you be scared; the +riding will come; she's getting on grandly. And ye should see Mr. +Winslow. 'Tis a pleasure to teach him. He rode in one lesson. I ain't +learning him nothing but tricks now." + +"But, Mr. Winslow, why don't you ride here--with us?" said Sibyl, with +her coquettish and flattering smile. "We're always hearing of your +beautiful riding. Are we never to see it?" + +"I think Mr. Winslow is waiting for that swell English cycle suit that I +hear about," said the captain, grinning; and Winslow grew red to his +eyelids. + +Lorania gave an indignant side glance at Sibyl. Why need the girl make +game of an honest man who loved her? Sibyl was biting her lips and +darting side glances at the captain. She called the pasture practice +slow, but she seemed, nevertheless, to enjoy herself sitting on the +bench, the captain on one side and Winslow on the other, rattling off +her girlish jokes, while her aunt and Mrs. Ellis, with the anxious, set +faces of the beginner, were pedalling frantically after Cardigan. +Lorania began to pity Winslow, for it was growing plain to her that +Sibyl and the captain understood each other. She thought that even if +Sibyl did care for the soldier, she need not be so careless of Winslow's +feelings. She talked with the cashier herself, trying to make amends for +Sibyl's absorption in the other man, and she admired the fortitude that +concealed the pain that he must feel. It became quite the expected thing +for the Winslows to be present at the practice; but Winslow had not yet +appeared on his wheel. He used to bring a box of candy with him, or +rather three boxes--one for each lady, he said--and a box of peppermints +for his mother. He was always very attentive to his mother. + +"And fancy, Aunt Margaret," laughed Sibyl, "he has asked both auntie and +me to the theater. He is not going to compromise himself by singling one +of us out. He's a careful soul. By the way, Aunt Margaret, Mrs. Winslow +was telling me yesterday that I am the image of auntie at my age. Am I? +Do I look like her? Was she as slender as I?" + +"Almost," said Mrs. Ellis, who was not so inflexibly truthful as her +friend. + +"No, Sibyl," said Lorania, with a deep, deep sigh, "I was always plump; +I was a chubby _child_! And oh, what do you think I heard in the crowd +at Manly's once? One woman said to another, 'Miss Hopkins has got a +wheel.' 'Miss Sibyl?' said the other. 'No; the stout Miss Hopkins,' said +the first creature; and the second--" Lorania groaned. + +"What _did_ she say to make you feel that way?" + +"She said--she said, 'Oh, my!'" answered Lorania, with a dying look. + +"Well, she was horrid," said Mrs. Ellis; "but you know you have grown +thin. Come on; let's ride!" + +"I _never_ shall be able to ride," said Lorania, gloomily. "I can get +on, but I can't get off. And they've taken off the brake, so I can't +stop. And I'm object-struck by everything I look at. Some day I shall +look down hill. Well, my will's in the lower drawer of the mahogany +desk." + +Perhaps Lorania had an occult inkling of the future. For this is what +happened: That evening Winslow rode on to the track in his new English +bicycle suit, which had just come. He hoped that he didn't look like a +fool in those queer clothes. But the instant he entered the pasture he +saw something that drove everything else out of his head, and made him +bend over the steering-bar and race madly across the green; Miss +Hopkins' bicycle was running away down hill! Cardigan, on foot, was +pelting obliquely, in the hopeless thought to intercept her, while Mrs. +Ellis, who was reeling over the ground with her own bicycle, wheeled as +rapidly as she could to the brow of the hill, where she tumbled off, +and, abandoning the wheel, rushed on foot to her friend's rescue. + +She was only in time to see a flash of silver and ebony and a streak of +brown dart before her vision and swim down the hill like a bird. Lorania +was still in the saddle, pedalling from sheer force of habit, and +clinging to the handle-bars. Below the hill was a stone wall, and +farther was the creek. There was a narrow opening in the wall where the +cattle went down to drink; if she could steer through that she would +have nothing worse than soft water and mud; but there was not one +chance in a thousand that she could pass that narrow space. Mrs. +Winslow, horror-stricken, watched the rescuer, who evidently was cutting +across to catch the bicycle. + +"He's riding out of sight!" thought Shuey, in the rear. He himself did +not slacken his speed, although he could not be in time for the +catastrophe. Suddenly he stiffened; Winslow was close to the runaway +wheel. + +"Grab her!" yelled Shuey. "Grab her by the belt! _Oh, Lord!_" + +The exclamation exploded like the groan of a shell. For while Winslow's +bicycling was all that could be wished, and he flung himself in the path +of the on-coming wheel with marvelous celerity and precision, he had not +the power to withstand the never yet revealed number of pounds carried +by Miss Lorania, impelled by the rapid descent and gathering momentum at +every whirl. They met; he caught her; but instantly he was rolling down +the steep incline and she was doubled up on the grass. He crashed +sickeningly against the stone wall; she lay stunned and still on the +sod; and their friends, with beating hearts, slid down to them. Mrs. +Winslow was on the brow of the hill. She blesses Shuey to this day for +the shout he sent up, "Nobody killed, and I guess no bones broken." + + * * * * * + +When Margaret went home that evening, having seen her friend safely in +bed, not much the worse for her fall, she was told that Cardigan wished +to see her. Shuey produced something from his pocket, saying: "I picked +this up on the hill, ma'am, after the accident. It maybe belongs to him, +or it maybe belongs to her; I'm thinking the safest way is to just give +it to you." He handed Mrs. Ellis a tiny gold-framed miniature of Lorania +in a red leather case. + + * * * * * + +The morning was a sparkling June morning, dewy and fragrant, and the +sunlight burnished the handles and pedals of the friends' bicycles +standing on the piazza unheeded. It was the hour for morning practice, +but Miss Hopkins slept in her chamber, and Mrs. Ellis sat in the little +parlor adjoining, and thought. + +She did not look surprised at the maid's announcement that Mrs. Winslow +begged to see her for a few moments. Mrs. Winslow was pale. She was a +good sketch of discomfort on the very edge of her chair, clad in the +black silk which she wore Sundays, her head crowned with her bonnet of +state, and her hands stiff in a pair of new gloves. + +"I hope you'll excuse me not sending up a card," she began. "Cyril got +me some going on a year ago, and I _thought_ I could lay my hand right +on 'em, but I'm so nervous this morning I hunted all over, and they +wasn't anywhere. I won't keep you. I jest wanted to ask if you picked up +anything--a little red Russia-leather case--" + +"Was it a miniature--a miniature of my friend Miss Hopkins?" + +"I thought it all over, and I came to explain. You no doubt think it +strange; and I can assure you that my son never let any human being look +at that picture. I never knew about it myself till it was lost and he +got up out of his bed--he ain't hardly able to walk--and staggered over +here to look for it, and I followed him; and so he _had_ to tell me. He +had it painted from a picture that came out in the papers. He felt it +was an awful liberty. But--you don't know how my boy feels, Mrs. Ellis; +he has worshipped that woman for years. He ain't never had a thought of +anybody but her since they was children in school; and yet's he's been +so modest and so shy of pushing himself forward that he didn't do a +thing until I put him on to help you with this bicycle." + +Margaret Ellis did not know what to say. She thought of the marquis; and +Mrs. Winslow poured out her story: "He ain't never said a word to me +till this morning. But don't I _know_? Don't I know who looked out so +careful for her investments? Don't I know who was always looking out for +her interest--silent, and always keeping himself in the background? Why, +she couldn't even buy a cow that he wa'n't looking round to see that she +got a good one! 'Twas him saw the gardener, and kept him from buying +that cow with tuberculosis, 'cause he knew about the herd. He knew by +finding out. He worshipped the very cows she owned, you may say, and +I've seen him patting and feeding up her dogs; it's to our house that +big mastiff always goes every night. Mrs. Ellis, it ain't often that a +woman gits love such as my son is offering, only he da'sn't offer it, +and it ain't often a woman is loved by such a good man as my son. He +ain't got any bad habits; he'll die before he wrongs anybody; and he +has got the sweetest temper you ever see; and he's the tidiest man about +a house you could ask, and the promptest about meals." + +Mrs. Ellis looked at her flushed face, and sent another flood of color +into it, for she said, "Mrs. Winslow, I don't know how much good I may +be able to do, but I am on your side." + +Her eyes followed the little black figure when it crossed the lawn. She +wondered whether her advice was good, for she had counseled that Winslow +come over in the evening. + +"Maggie," said a voice. Lorania was in the doorway. "Maggie," she said, +"I ought to tell you that I heard every word." + +"Then _I_ can tell _you_," cried Mrs. Ellis, "that he is fifty times +more of a man than the marquis, and loves you fifty thousand times +better!" + +Lorania made no answer, not even by a look. What she felt Mrs. Ellis +could not guess. Nor was she any wiser when Winslow appeared at her +gate, just as the sun was setting. + +"I didn't think I would better intrude on Miss Hopkins," said he, "but +perhaps you could tell me how she is this evening. My mother told me +how kind you were, and perhaps you--you would advise me if I might +venture to send Miss Hopkins some flowers." + +Out of the kindness of her heart Mrs. Ellis averted her eyes from his +face; thus she was able to perceive Lorania saunter out of the Hopkins +gate. So changed was she by the bicycle practice that, wrapped in her +niece's shawl, she made Margaret think of the girl. An inspiration +flashed to her; she knew the cashier's dependence on his eye-glasses, +and he was not wearing them. + +"If you want to know how Miss Hopkins is, why not speak to her niece +now?" she said. + +He started. He saw Miss Sibyl, as he supposed, and he went swiftly down +the street. "Miss Sibyl," he began, "may I ask how is your aunt?"--and +then she turned. + +She blushed, then she laughed aloud. "Has the bicycle done so much for +me?" said she. + +"The bicycle didn't need to do _anything_ for you!" he cried, warmly. + +Mrs. Ellis, a little distance in the rear, heard, turned, and walked +thoughtfully away. "They're off," said she--she had acquired a sporting +tinge of thought from Shuey Cardigan. "If with that start he can't make +the running, it's a wonder." + +"I have invited Mr. Winslow and his mother to dinner," said Miss +Hopkins, in the morning. "Will you come too, Maggie?" + +"I'll back him against the marquis," thought Margaret, gleefully. + +A week later Lorania said: "I really think I must be getting thinner. +Fancy Mr. Winslow, who is so clear-sighted, mistaking me for Sibyl! He +says--I told him how I had suffered from my figure--he says it can't be +what he has suffered from his. Do you think him so very short, Maggie? +Of course he isn't tall, but he has an elegant figure, I think, and I +never saw anywhere such a rider!" + +Mrs. Ellis answered, heartily: "He isn't very small, and he is a +beautiful figure on the wheel!" And added to herself, "I know what was +in that letter she sent yesterday to the marquis! But to think of its +all being due to the bicycle!" + + + + +THE SPELLBINDER + + +Not long since the writer had occasion to pass through the scene of this +story. It would be hard to find anywhere a more pleasant and prosperous +land. Fertile fields and shady country roads and pastures where sleek +cattle are contentedly grazing; great stacks of green alfalfa; +farmhouses with flowers and vines, as well as thriving kitchen gardens; +windmills that pipe houses with water as well as fill the barn troughs; +automobiles and good roads--there could hardly be a greater contrast. +And it is pleasant to hear that the pioneers who suffered incredible +hardships during the lean years are now reaping the reward of their +toil, courage and versatile, indomitable ingenuity. + + * * * * * + +The frozen soil rattled under the horses' hoofs; the wagon wheels +rattled on their own account. A December wind was keen enough to make +the driver wrap his patched quilt closer and pull his battered straw hat +lower over his ears. He was a man of thirty, with high, tanned features +and eyes that would have been handsome but for their sullen frown. + +"I should call it getting good and ready for a blizzard," observed the +other man on the board (seat the wagon had none); "maybe he won't come." + +"He'll come fast enough," returned the driver; "you don't catch buzzards +staying in for weather!" + +"I don't know. He's a pretty luxurious young scoundrel. Bixby says he +had a letter from him--very particular about a fire in his room, and +plenty of hot water and towels. Bixby is worried lest the boys make a +fuss with him in his hotel." + +"Bixby is a coward from Wayback," was the driver's single comment or +reply. The other man eyed the dark profile at his shoulder, out of the +tail of his eye rubbing his hands up and down his wrists under his +frayed sleeves. He was a young man, shorter of stature than the driver. +He had a round, genial, tanned face, and a bad cold on him. His hands +were bare because he had lent his mittens to the driver; but he wore a +warm, if shabby greatcoat and a worn fur cap. + +"I don't suppose," he said in a careless tone, "you fellows mean to do +more than scare the lad well." + +"We scared the last man. Doc Russell got him fairly paralyzed; told him +'bout the Shylock that turned out the Kinneys, and Miss Kinney's dying +in the wagon, she was so weak; and Kin--somebody ('course he didn't +mention names) shooting that man; and their arresting Kinney, and the +jury acquitting him without leaving the box. Oh, he told a lot of +stories. Some of 'em, I guess, he made up out of his own head; but that +Iowa lawyer swallered the whole batch, hide and hoofs and all. And he +couldn't git out of town quick enough! But what's the good? Here's this +young dude come again. Say, did you know it's his pa that owns most of +the stock in the trust?" + +"No?" + +"Yes, sir. He's got the upper hand of 'em all. They've bought up every +last bit of foreclosed land 'round here. Yes, we was so mighty smart, we +fixed it that nobody'd dare to buy; and nobody 'round here _would_ dare, +even s'posing they got the money, which they ain't--" + +"There certainly ain't much loose money 'round here, Wesley. At least, +when I ran the paper I didn't find it; I was glad to rent an abandoned +farm and trade my subscription list for enough corn to pay the first +instalment on some stock and a cultivator." + +"Did you pay any more?" + +"No; times got worse instead of better. I'd have lost the stock and the +cultivator and every blamed thing in the way of implement I've got if it +hadn't been for you fellows running the implement man out of the +country; he'd a chattel mortgage that was a terror. But what were you +saying about the land? Nobody would buy?" + +"Of course nobody would buy, and we hugged ourselves we was so durned +slick. Oh, my! Now, here comes along one of them bloody trusts that's +eating this country up, and goes to the land company and buys the +foreclosed land for a song. It goes all the cheaper because its known +far and wide that we elected the sheriff not to enforce writs, but to +resist 'em; and the same with all the officers; and we're ready to shoot +down any man that tries to push us off the earth. That scared folks, and +the investment company sold cheap as dirt. They knew they couldn't git +anybody to take up a farm 'round here. Look a' there!" He jerked the +point of the switch that served for whip in the direction of a dark +bulk looming against the glowing belt of red in the west. The outlines +of a ruined chimney toppled over the misshapen roof. The door and window +openings gaped forlornly; doors and windows were gone long since, +wrenched off for other needs. Bit by bit the house had been nibbled +at--here a porch platform taken, there a patch of weather-boarding, +shingles pulled from the roof, the corn crib a wreck, the outbuildings +carried away piece-meal--until, a sadder ruin than fire leaves, it faced +the sunset and the prairie. + +"That farm belonged to as hard-working, smart a feller as ever handled a +plow. Look at them fields, gone to desolation like everything else, but +the furrows used to be as straight's a line with a ruler. He fought the +hard times and the drought till his wife died, and then he said to me, +'I'm beat; I'm going to take the baby back to Winnie's folks. If I'd +only gone last year I could have took Winnie, too. The company kin have +my farm, and I hope to God it'll be the curse to them it's been to me!' +There the farm is. And look further down"--shifting the switch to +another direction--"there's another dropping to pieces. Lord, when I +think of the stories they told me about the crops when I fust came and +put in four hundred dollars that I'd worked hard for in a saw-mill, and +I think how we used to set 'round the fire evenings, my wife and I, +talking about how the town was a-growing and what it would be when the +trees was growed and our children was going to school, and how we'd have +a cabinet organ and we'd have a top buggy, and we'd send for her mother, +who didn't jest like it with Bill's wife--we was jest like children, +making believe! But that ain't what I was driving at. Here it is. We +calculated that we'd be let alone, because the poor, miserable remnants +of stock and machines and farms we got simply wasn't worth outside folks +taking, and inside folks wouldn't risk their lives by dispossessing us. +That's how we sized it up, ain't it?" + +"I don't see yet what you're after, Wesley." + +"You will. We reasoned that way. But along comes this company, +this--trust, that's clean against the laws and don't give a curse for +that, and it buys up the whole outfit. I tell you, Mr. Robbins, there +ain't five men in this community that that trust ain't got the legal +right to turn out on the prairies to-morrow. They've all been +foreclosed, and the year of grace is up. Most of us here ain't got no +show at all--legally. And so they send a man down here to see about +gitting out writs and finishing us up." + +"But who'll they get to buy, Wesley Orr?" + +"They're not needing much buying. They're on to a new scheme--going to +turn all these farms into big pastures and fatten cattle with alfalfa, +raise it and ship it; then the lower part of the county, down below +town, they intend to run a ditch through from the river and irrigate it. +They will fetch in a colony who'll pay them about ten times what they +paid, I expect, and--" + +"But we won't let them--" + +"Depends on how many guns the colony's got and how much fight there's in +it. They'll try it, anyhow, unless--" + +"Unless--" repeated Robbins uneasily. + +"Unless they're scared off, _unless they think it's death for a man to +tackle us_." + +Robbins rubbed his hands harder; he bit his lip. A little space of +silence fell between them. Off to the south, where the little town was +set like an island in the darkening prairie, the lights began to +twinkle; they were yellow and scattered. Even at that distance one +could tell that they burned few to the house. + +"I kinder wish," said Robbins, "that he came from another town." + +"What's the difference about the town?" + +"Oh, none, I guess. But that town, it's in Iowa, and it sent the best +things we've ever had. One woman put in a lot of jams and jellies and +tea--such tea! My wife was sick then, and I didn't know but I'd lose +her. I gave her some of that tea and some jam, and she began to pick up +from that day. It was a quince jam, and made her think of home, she +said. Her father was a Connecticut man, and they had an orchard with +quince trees in it--I remember--" He did not finish the sentence, but he +sighed as he absently ran his eye over the gaps in the harness mended +with rope. + +"I bet _he_ didn't have nothing to do with that box," said Orr; "most +like, the people sent us that were poor folks themselves, and had to +pinch to make up for the things they sent us. 'Tain't the rich people +are sorriest for poor folks. This young Wallace--his father's the owner +of a big paper, and rich besides, and he's got this boy in training for +editor; and when that first duck couldn't do nothing out here, the old +man said he'd buy in, and the young one thought it a mighty smart thing +to do to come over here and turn a lot of half-starved women and +children out in winter. What's _he_ care? What do any of these rich +folks care?" + +"I don't think you're fair, Wesley," said Robbins. "All the rich folks +aren't mean. I know more about them than you." He spoke with a dawning +of pride in his tone, which deepened a little. + +"Yes, I know you used to belong to them," said Orr, "and I guess you +were decent to the poor. But you'll admit you didn't have no notion how +it cuts to work every muscle in you and to lay awake thinking yourself +half crazy to puzzle out better ways to make money and yet to feel every +year you're a-sinking deeper in the slough! I've worked five years here, +and 'cepting the first year, every single year has piled interest on the +mortgage. Every year we've had less clothes to wear and poorer stuff to +eat, and it's been mend instead of buy, and we've had more debts and +more worries every year. I tell you, Mr. Robbins, I thought it would +_kill_ me, once, to come on the county. I'd 'a' said I'd starve first; +but you can't see your wife and children starve. I went in last winter, +and asked for relief. I'd that old hound dog of mine with me; you knowed +him. He'd been a good dog. He come with us when we come here, running +under the wagon. All the children had played with him. I took him into +town, and I asked every one I knowed would he have that dog for a gift; +I showed off all his tricks, feeling like I was dirty mean deceiving +him, for I done it so somebody would be willing to take him home and +feed him and take care of him, for it's God's truth I hadn't enough for +him and the children too. But nobody wanted him; he was pretty old, and +he wasn't never handsome. And one store I was in, as I went out I heard +a drummer that was trying to sell goods say, 'I saw that feller at the +Relief, but I notice he's able to keep a dog. Lets the children go +hungry ruther'n the dog, I guess.' I kinder turned on him, then I turned +back again, and I whistled to Sport, and I looked at him and saw how his +ribs showed and his eyes was kinder sunk. He wagged his tail and yelped +like he used to, seeing me look at him; and then I went straight to that +drug-store Billy used to keep--Billy Harvey. He moved away last year; +he was a good friend of mine. I said to him, 'Billy, you got something +that would kill a dog in a flash, so he'd never suffer or know what hurt +him?' And Billy--he understood, and he said he had. 'You jest put it on +his tongue and he'd never know what killed him.' Billy was sorry for me. +He gave it to me for nothing, and he gave me some bones and corn bread +and milk; so Sport had a good dinner. And he come right up to me and +looked me in the eyes, wagging his tail. His eyes was kinder dim, but +they was just as loving as ever. And he was wagging his tail when he +dropped. Then I went home, and the children asked me where was Sport, +and little Peggy cried--oh, Lord!" + +"It was awful hard on you, Wesley," said Robbins gently. + +"I suppose it wasn't nothing to what some men have suffered. There was +poor Tommy Walker, give up his farm when it was foreclosed--thought he +had to--and went off tramping to Kansas City, and after he'd tramped a +week there, looking for a job, give it up and jumped into the river. And +you know how old man Osgood killed himself, honest a old man as ever +lived; always kept his machines under cover, too; _he_ couldn't stand +it. They found it harder--and lots more, too; but I've found it hard +enough. And I know I'd shoot that sneaking, sneering young Shylock, and +not mind it near so much as I minded killing poor Sport." + +"I don't know but we'd all better quit," said the younger man with a +sigh. "This isn't a living country. Three years of drought would break +any country up. It's not meant to live in. We had a fair crop this year, +but it's so low; and freights, though they're lower, are pretty high. I +don't see any way out of it. And I declare I think if we run this young +fellow off we'll only get a bad name for the place." + +"I don't care for bad names," said the other sullenly. "I got a wife and +three children; I was foreclosed a year ago--so's you, so's a lot of the +boys; we're at the end of our string now--legally. So what did we say? +We said we didn't care, was it legal or illegal; that laws was made to +skin the poor man; and we elected a sheriff we could depend on not to +enforce the laws, and we druv off the bloodsuckers they sent out here. +They say one feller was killed. I don't know. Guess that's one of Doc +Russell's stories. The boys talk a lot about the cause of all this here +trouble, and how we're going to have a revolution, and how referendum +and initiendum will help, and how free silver will help--I guess, +myself, a little more rain three years ago when corn was up would have +helped more'n anything--and they talk how they're fighting the battles +of the poor man, and the Eastern bloodsuckers has ruined us, and the +Shylocks are devouring us, and they holler the roof off. I listen to +'em, but I don't believe 'em any more than you do." + +"But," interrupted the other man eagerly, "I voted with the people's +party--" + +"Of course you did. We was going to be unanimous, and you dass'n't stand +out; but you didn't believe in it. Me neither. I ain't makin' any +pretense, but I'll tell you it's jest here--I'm down to bed-rock. If I +let my farm be took away and my stock, what's going to become of my wife +and children? You can call it stealing, or resisting the law, or +anything you please, but I'll kill that feller before I'll let him turn +me out." + +"Don't you think we can scare him off? Killing's a nasty word." + +"My father was with John Brown; he helped kill a man. He never lost no +sleep about it; I shan't neither. Look here, Mr. Robbins, I got lots of +time to think, winters--lots. Remorse and all them fine feelings you +read of, they don't belong to folks that are way down in the dirt. You +got to have something to eat and wear, and not have your stomach sassing +you, and you half froze most of the time; when your body is in sech a +fix it's keeping your mind so full there ain't any show for any other +feelings. And look a' here, there's worse"--his voice sank. "Why, you +git to that pass you ain't able to feel for your own wife and babies. +When this morning Peggy kept hushing the baby, and she was fretting and +moaning, and Peggy says to me, couldn't I git a little crackers in town; +maybe the baby could eat them? I didn't feel nothing 'cept a numb +aching. I kept saying, 'I'd 'a' felt that, once!' But I didn't feel it +now. And, all of a sudden, it come to me 'twas because I was gitting +_past_ feeling--like you do when you're froze, jest before you die. I +read a story once, when I was a little shaver, that kept me awake nights +many a time. It was about a Russian nobleman out sleigh-riding with his +children, three of 'em, on one of them steppes; and the wolves chased +them. The father had a pistol, and he would shoot one of the wolves, and +then the cowardly cusses would stop to tear the wounded critter to +pieces and eat him, giving the folks in the sleigh a little more time; +but every time the distance between the wolves and them when they +stopped was a little smaller; but they were getting closer to the town, +and they could see the lights. So the father, he kept on shooting, until +the wolves were jumping up and grabbing at the sleigh, and the last time +he shot a wolf he used up his last cartridge; then, when they come after +him again, when the lights were nearer, and he knew if he could stop 'em +once more he could escape, he--he throwed out one of the children; +because it was this way: if he jumped out himself the children were so +little they couldn't drive, and they'd be tipped up, and all three of +them lost, so he throwed out the child he loved the best, and they got +to town safely; but he went raving crazy. Well, I thought of him, and I +said, if baby died there'd be the more chance for the others--" + +"Look here, Wesley," his companion interrupted, "_quit it_! You're +getting light-headed. Get rid of such fool thoughts as those or you'll +be going off to the insane asylum; and mighty little use your family +will have of you _there_!" + +Orr gave him no answer. Robbins watched his impassive face and frowned. + +"He's not bad-hearted, but he's desperate. You can't appeal to a +desperate man," he thought, "and the other boys are the same way. +There'll be wild work there to-night, unless that young fool has the +papers with him and will give them up. You're a fool, George Robbins, to +mix yourself up in it on the chance of getting a few dollars from a +Kansas City paper for a telegram!" + +Silently the two men looked at the nearing lights, while the wagon +creaked and swayed and rattled over the road. + +"We got to save the lantern to go home by," Orr remarked at last, "else +I'd light up; they ain't got any more lights in the streets. But I guess +we can see." + +There were enough lights in the windows to reveal the wide untidiness of +the street, the black, boarded windows of the empty shops, the gaps in +the sidewalk, the haggard gardens, where savage winds had blown the +heart out of deserted rose-trees and geraniums. In general the sky-line +was low and the roofs the simplest peaks; but it was broken in a few +places by three and four storied brick buildings of the florid pomp on +which a raw Western town loves to lavish its money. Now they loomed, +dark and silent, landmarks of vanished ambition. Robbins, who was a man +of parts and education, with a fanciful turn, felt the air of defeat and +desolation hanging over the town choke him like miasma. To him the +dreariness was the more poignant for the half a dozen little shops that +still flickered their challenge to fate in the guise of a dim coal-oil +lamp in the window. There appeared to be no customers at these dismal +marts; in some cases not even the shop-keeper was visible, and only the +stove in the rear of the room kept a lonesome red eye on the shelves. +The sole sparks of life in the place were at the hotel. It had been +built "during the boom"--a large rectangle of wood, with a cheap and +gaudy piazza, all painted four shades of green, which the climate had +burned and blistered and bleached into one sickly, mottled brown. Long +ago the stables of the hostelry had been abandoned, but this night the +stable yard was full of wagons. + +The upper story of the hotel was dark, and the greater part of the lower +story; but the kitchen was bright, and yellow light leaked through every +chink and crack in the office blinds. + +"Boys have turned out well, I guess," said Robbins. + +"They _better_ turn out!" said Orr. + +No word was spoken by either while they unhitched their horses, led them +within the sheds, and tied them among the sorry company already housed. +Robbins noted that after Orr had laid the blanket which had served them +for robe on one thin back, he flung his own quilt over the other. Then +they stumbled (for they were unwieldy with cold) through the yard to the +hotel. + +The office was full of men, gathered about the stove, talking to each +other. The innkeeper sat behind his counter, affecting to busy himself +with a blotted ledger. Originally he had been a stout man, but he had +lost flesh of late years. He was wrinkled and flabby, and the furtive +eyeshots that he cast toward the stove were anxious beyond his +concealing. Any one, however, could perceive that matters of heavy +import were being discussed. The miserably clad men about the stove all +looked sullen. There was none of the easy-going badinage so habitual +with Westerners. They exchanged glances rather than words; what words +were spoken were uttered in low tones. + +"Where is he?" said Orr, in the same undertone to a large man in a +buffalo coat. The large man was the sheriff of the county. He jerked his +thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the dining-room. + +"What's he like?" + +"Little feller with a game leg." + +Orr frowned. Robbins felt uncomfortable. A gaunt man on the outskirts of +the circle added: "He's powerful slick, though; you can bet your life. +That girl Susy is all won over already; and she's suspecting something, +sure's shooting. I guess she's warned him there's something in the air." + +"Well, if there is, I don't know it," said the sheriff. + +"You never _will_ know anything about it, either," a gray-haired man +added. + +"That's right, Kinney," two or three spoke at once. But immediately a +silence fell on them. Robbins, who felt himself an outsider, could see +that the others drew closer together. Once or twice he caught sinister +murmurs. He began to wish that he had not come. + +"It would be no earthly use for me to chip in and try to soften them," +he thought. "They're crazy with defeat and misery and the fool stuff +campaign orators have crammed down their throats." + +Just then the dining-room door opened, and Robbins was the only one of +the group to turn his head. The other men gazed at the fire, and the +heavy silence grew heavier. + +The man who came out of the room was young, slight of figure, and he +limped a little. Nevertheless, there was nothing of dejection in his +bearing or his face. He was freckled to a degree, smooth-shaven, and his +teeth were beautiful. He had fine eyes also, a deep blue, flashing like +steel as they moved from one object to another. The eyes were keen, +alert, and determined; but being set rather wide apart under his light +brows, they gave the face a candid, almost artless, look, and when he +smiled the deep dimple in his cheek made it as merry as a child's. + +"Good evening, gentlemen," said he cheerfully. No one responded. Robbins +made a gurgle in his throat, which the newcomer generously accepted for +salutation, promptly approaching the fire at Robbins' elbow. + +"Cold weather," said he. Two or three of the company lifted their heads +and eyed the speaker. Robbins wondered were they as keenly conscious as +he of the young fellow's trimly fitted clothes, what good quality that +rough plaided brown stuff was, how dainty was his linen. He looked at +the home people's ragged coats, he thought of the poverty that he knew, +and the reflection of a sneer was on his own lips, and, somehow, a lump +in his throat. + +"Too cold weather for folks to travel unless they're wanted bad!" said +the gray-haired man on the edge of the company. There was a thrill of +some strong feeling in his deep voice. + +"It does seem that way," agreed the young man with undiminished +vivacity. "I am glad to get to a shelter. By the way, I hear this is a +dry town. Will some of you gentlemen have something with me?" He had +pulled out a flask and was flashing his brilliant smile at Robbins. + +"No, thank you, I don't drink," said Robbins; but he felt his throat +itching at the sight. + +"We'll drink your licker after we've finished our business with you," +the gray man struck in. He was old Captain Sparks, who had been very +bitter since his eldest son went crazy with overwork and sunstroke and +killed himself. The other men laughed. They looked at each other; they +looked with goading hate in their dull eyes at the stranger; and they +laughed. + +"Here, Johnny," said the young man, taking no notice, "run up to +twenty-five and fetch me the bag there, the black one. If we are to +drink to our business, I want you all to join. You are all interested, I +take it? And get some glasses while you are about it." + +The boy whom he addressed, the landlord's son, a lad of twelve, had been +busy staring at the stranger ever since he entered the room. He ran +away, but as he ran could not restrain himself from flinging one or two +glances back over his shoulder. + +"Don't you smoke, either?" said the stranger to Robbins, his hand to his +breast pocket. + +"Only a pipe," answered Robbins. He wished that he didn't feel an +absurd, morbid sympathy for the poor fool's pluck sneaking into his +consciousness. + +"What are we waiting for?" The captain whispered it to a mild-eyed, +short-bearded man next him; but the captain's whisper carried far. "Aw, +give him rope!" suggested the mild-eyed man; "maybe he ain't so sandy's +he seems." + +Not seeming to recognize any chill in his reception, the young stranger +approached the stove. No one moved to admit him to the inner circle; +this, also, he did not seem to observe. "This whole country looks as if +you had been having hard times," he continued. His voice had full, rich, +magnetic notes, but its unfamiliar intonations jarred on his hearers; +they knew them to belong to the East, and they hated the East. "It's +pretty sad to ride through miles and miles of farming country and see +the burned fence-posts that caught fire from the cinders, just lying +where they fell, and the smoke not coming out of one farm-house chimney +in six. It looks as if the farmers out this way had simply given up the +fight." + +"You've hit it," said the mild-eyed man; "they have. Some of them have +moved away and some of them have killed themselves, after they've lost +their stock on chattel mortgages and lost their land to the improvement +company. There ought to be lots of ghosts on those abandoned farms and +in those houses where the fences are down. This country is full of +ghosts. We ain't much better than ghosts ourselves." + +"It was the three dry years, I suppose." + +"That and the mortgage sharks and the Shylocks from the East," old +Captain Sparks interrupted in a venomous tone; "what pickings the +drought left they got." + +"Pretty rough!" said the stranger, declining the combat again. "There's +one man I want to meet here; his name is Russell--Doctor Russell." + +The mild-eyed man explained that his name was Russell; the other men +looked puzzled and suspicious. "What's his little game?" whispered the +captain. "It won't go, whatever it is," said the man next him. Robbins +heard question and answer distinctly; but the young fellow near him did +not wince. "Are you the one that wrote to Fairport, Doctor Russell? I +guess you must be." + +"Yes, I wrote to Fairport," said Russell. + +"Well, I hope you liked the barrel we sent, and the boxes. They were +going to send them to another place, but your letter decided us. That's +my church, you know, which sent them. And, for that matter, it was your +letter first turned my father's attention to investing in your part of +the country. Oh, tell me, where did that tea go? My mother _would_ send +her best London mixture--" + +"Was it your mother?" Robbins spoke. With a red face and a flash of his +eyes at the sullen group about him, he withdrew his chair, making a +clear passage to the stove. "I'd like to thank her, then, and her son +for her; that tea and that quince jam--whose was the quince jam?" + +"I rather think my mother put that in, too." + +"Well, it almost cured my wife; it was better than medicine, that and +the tea, for, not to mention that we couldn't get any medicine, it put +heart into her as medicine couldn't. I wonder was it your mother, or who +was it put in that volume of college songs? _I_ got that. You wouldn't +think it, but I'm a university man--Harvard--" + +The young fellow caught his hand and gripped it hard. "Harvard? So am +I--Martin Wallace, '92." + +"My name is George Robbins, and I'm a good deal farther back; and, as +you can see, I'm down on my luck. But there's no need going into my +hard-luck story; it's like a lot of our stories here. You see where we +are--hardly shoes to our feet; not because we have been shiftless or +idle, or have wronged anybody; yet the cutthroats and thieves in the +penitentiary have had better fare and suffered less with cold and hunger +than we have. And it's not that we are fools, either; we're not +uneducated. There are at least three other college men in our community; +there's Doc Russell--" + +"I _am_," drawled Russell; "much good it's done me; but I won honors at +the University of Iowa." + +"I didn't win any honors, but I went to the State University--was +graduated there before I went to Harvard. But--you aren't Teddy Russell, +Teddy Russell of the Glee Club and the football eleven?" + +"Yes, I am Teddy Russell." + +"E. D. Russell, of course; why didn't I guess? You were there two years +before me, but I daresay they are talking of you still; and the way you +won a touchdown with a broken rib on you, and the time all the rest of +the Glee Club missed the train at Fairport, going to Lone Tree, and you +went on with the banjoes and were the whole thing for three-quarters of +an hour! Well, I'm glad to meet you, Doctor. Let us have a good song or +two together after business." + +Russell unconsciously felt for the cravat which was not round his soiled +and frayed collar; he buttoned his wreck of a frock coat. "Yes, we +will," he began, but his voice stuck in his throat as the captain's +rough grasp gripped his arm. + +"I guess not," said the captain; "business first, young feller!" + +Russell shook off the hand, muttering something too low for Robbins' +ear; but Robbins sidled nearer to him, so near that he was able to +exchange a single glance and to see Russell's lips form the words, +"Watch Orr!" They understood each other. + +"Weren't you from Ann Arbor yourself, Captain?" said Robbins, grabbing +at any straw of peace. + +"I've been too poor ever since the war to remember whether I ever had a +college education or not," retorted the captain with a sneer. "I belong +to the people now; their cause is my cause. Where do _you_ belong? We've +tended your folks when you were sick, and helped you lay by your crops, +and driven the mortgage sharks off your stuff. Say, what are you doing +now? Are you monkeying around to turn traitor or coward, or what's the +matter?" + +"We're all right, Captain," answered Russell, the western burr on his +tongue as soft and leisurely as ever, and no hint of excitement in his +manner; "but I see no harm in letting Mr. Wallace answer our questions +before we fly off the handle." So saying, before the captain realized +his purpose he edged through the crowd to Wallace's side. Robbins +followed him; and the eyes of all the others turned to the three +menacing and eager. + +"All I ask is to answer questions and to make my proposition to you," +said Wallace, his fearless young eyes running round the circle. "If you +don't like it you can refuse and send me home--to make other +arrangements." + +"No, we ain't going to send you home," said Orr. It was the first time +that he had spoken. Wallace flashed a keen glance at him and spoke his +next words directly to him. "But I'm sure you won't want to do it. You +see, I'm your last chance and you _have_ to examine it!" + +They had not expected such an answer. A little vibration ran like a wave +over the gaunt, ferociously attentive faces. Wallace's eyes were fixed +on Orr's face, which did not change. Orr's hand was in the breast of his +ragged waistcoat. + +"You people have certainly had the devil's own time and through no fault +of yours, unless it's a fault that you aren't quitters!" + +"That's right," said Robbins. Orr's eyes narrowed a little. Wallace +continued, not taking his own eyes off the farmer's: + +"This country is all right when there's a good year, but the good years +come so seldom! What you fellows need down here is not free silver, but +free water. With plenty of water you can raise big crops; and down in +this valley there is not the danger, if we dig ditches, of the river +running dry; we can get--" + +"And who'll pay for irrigation?" a voice demanded. Wallace did not shift +his gaze to the speaker; he talked to Orr as if Orr were the only man in +the room: "We expect to furnish the money." + +"And what will happen till the ditches are digged?" + +"There's alfalfa to be raised on all these abandoned fields." + +"And what's to become of _us_?" said Orr. "I can see where you folks can +git a holt and come out even; but what's going to become of us? Are we +to move off the earth and let you stay here?" + +Every one listened for Wallace's answer. Even the boy in the doorway, +returning with Wallace's bag, stood half scared at the foot of the +stairs, not daring to go forward. + +"Why not stay and take pot luck with us?" said Wallace, coolly. "We +bought the mortgages cheap, and we'll sell them cheap. We'll sell water +rights cheap also. And you will make better colonists than any we could +import--cheaper, too. It's for our interests as well as yours to make a +deal with you and to make one that will be satisfactory. Isn't it?" + +Orr's hand dropped to his side, he shuffled his feet, his eyes turned +from Wallace to seek the captain. "I hadn't figured it out you was going +to make any such proposition," said the captain. + +"Perhaps you thought we intended to chuck you all out in the cold and +hog everything. We are neither such pigs nor such fools. You fellows can +help us more than anybody else. Here is Johnny. Now, let's come to +business; but first, Johnny, get some glasses. We'll all drink to the +new deal." + +And afterwards they told with chuckles how even the captain, who was an +original Prohibitionist before he became a Populist, touched his lips to +the glass that was passed over the big map. + +"All you folks here need is _hope_," said the cheerful young Iowan; "you +have plenty of pluck and plenty of sense and oodles of experience; and +we stand ready to put in the capital. Now, what do you say; does it go?" + +After an hour of talk over the maps, he repeated the question, and the +captain himself led the chorus, "It goes. We'll all stand by you!" + +The blizzard had not come, and the moon was shining when George Robbins +and Wesley Orr drove home from town. A basket was carefully held on +Orr's knees. Robbins was caroling the chorus to "Johnny Harvard" and +wishing a health to him and his true love at the top of a hoarse and +husky voice. Orr looked solemnly ahead into the little wavering disk of +radiance that their lantern cast. Once he shivered violently, but he was +not cold. Suddenly he spoke. There was a quiver in his face and his +voice, but all he said was: "Say, he was dead right. We was so desperate +we was crazy. Hope, that was what we needed, and he give it to us; but +how some fellers would have messed that job, getting round to that same +proposal we all wanted to hug him for! And--I'm glad he didn't. I'm +almighty glad we didn't git a chance to do what we set out to do. He was +slick. Say, what is it they call them newspaper boys? Spellbinders? +That's him--a first-class, A-number-one spellbinder!" + + + + +THE OBJECT OF THE FEDERATION + + +"I joined a woman's club in the Federation a little over two years ago," +said Mrs. Hardy. "I didn't know what was the object then; and to tell +you the truth, I am no wiser now." + +"You know as much as I," was her neighbor's reply, politely given, the +neighbor, however, feeling no real interest, at the moment, in anything +outside the approaching election of president, and the gossip regarding +a possible "dark horse" which was buzzing behind her, between some +better informed members of the delegation. + +The babble of mighty waters is like the noise that filled the theater. +It surged from the plant-bedecked platform (where it might be likened to +nothing more resonant than the hum of insects of a summer night) through +the auditorium, to the dais under the balconies. The dais was noisy, +always, not because its occupants were any more inclined to talk than +other women, but because it was the rarest thing in the world for them +to hear anyone either on the stage or the floor; and generally, they had +to vote by their eyes, watching the advocates of their pet measures; and +rising or sitting by their example; hence they solaced themselves with +conversation. + +At this moment, however, the quiet gentlewoman with the gavel, behind +the long table, had not lifted her hand; and the upper part of the hall +(which being in good hearing distance, was used to keep silence and +criticise the talkers) was as busy with tongues and hands as its +neighbors. So Mrs. Hardy, smiling a little at her neighbor's absent +glance, listened until her thoughts wandered far afield. She only half +caught the enthusiasm of the neighbor to her right, over an address on +village improvement, or the indignation of the dames to the left, who +were rehearsing the political baseness of Massachusetts. She was +recalling a day thirty-three years ago. She did not see the secretary +behind the table, whispering to the president; she did not notice a +little group to the left near where the silk banner of Massachusetts +fluttered, putting their heads together and gesticulating above their +whispers. She forgot her surroundings and saw only a tall young man +whose ardent eyes sank as they met her own, a handsome young fellow, who +caught her hand in his, as they sat alone in the carriage, driving to +the depot, and kissed the fingers and the wedding-ring, crying out he +was not half good enough for her. "He was in love with me, _then_!" she +thought. But now? Well, it was not to be expected a man with a great +business and cares and money to think about and political affairs (for +they were importuning Darius to go to the senate) should be paying +romantic compliments to his middle-aged wife. Nevertheless, Darius had +never forgotten their anniversary until last year. On her reminding him, +he had whistled and laughed. "So it is," says he, "we ought to spend it +together; it's a shame I have to go to Chicago; why don't you come with +me?" + +Smiling (yet a foolish something not merry was twitching at her nerves), +she had declined. But she made a good excuse; Darius never guessed that +she was so silly as to mind; and he brought her a sweet pigeon-blood +ruby ring, set in diamonds, from Chicago; and he kissed her when he +slipped it on her finger--kissed her cheek, not her hand. She wondered, +at this minute, why she should wish that he had kissed the hand instead; +an elderly woman ought to be content with a calm, assured, faithful +affection, and let beautiful youngsters have the frills. That evening, +she planned a dinner carefully to his liking, and she would not let +herself be disappointed when he brought a political magnate, who talked +politics, from the terrapin to the coffee. She smiled again, as she +thought how much more of interest she would have found in the +conversation, to-day, after the club's year on Our Colonial Policies. +This last anniversary Darius had clean forgotten. In fact, he had +advised her to go to the Federation meeting; saying, lightly, that it +came at an opportune moment because he must be away that week, himself. +"Milwaukee is a pretty city," he ended amiably, "and there will be lots +of hen-functions and you'll enjoy yourself; but what's the object of it +all, your Federation?" + +"I don't know"--she astonished him with her frank levity--"when I do, +I'll tell you." + +"Well, don't get into any rows you can help," said he easily; "want any +more money? Got plenty?" + +"Plenty, thank you," said she, "although I am going to be rather +extravagant and get some very smart toilets." + +He looked over his glasses at her; and she was not able to decipher his +smile. Didn't he approve of her clothes? She sent her fine eyes into the +mirror of her dressing-table, after he had gone, and studied the picture +there with a frown and a smile, at last with a moisture over her eyes. + +But, although he said nothing, when she next examined her bank-book she +found her credit larger. "Maybe he _does_ like my spending more money on +my gowns," she thought. + +She went to Milwaukee. She did not remind him of the anniversary. She +said to herself that she would seriously try to discover the object of +the Federation; then she would tell Darius. Her daughter-in-law +accompanied her, and her daughter was to meet her. "Quite a family +party," said her son; "well, I hope you girls will have a good lark! +And, I say, Hester, find out what it's all about--if you can!" + +At first, Myrtle Hardy was more bewildered than excited. The scene was +unlike anything in her experience. The hotels glittering with feminine +finery and humming with feminine voices; the placards over doorways in +rotundas or corridors, announcing headquarters; the vast crooning bulk +of the lake, the iridescent gleam of water that came to one in glimpses +as one was whirled down the wide and breeze-swept avenues, amid a dazzle +of lovely fabrics and smiling faces, blooming like flowers in swiftly +passing victorias or rattling cabs, or rippling over the sidewalks into +the wide vestibules where Milwaukee welcomed her guests; the noisy rush +of the city; the ceaseless rattle and clang of the electric-cars which +were like an orchestral accompaniment to the magnetic excitement pulsing +under the decorous calm of the meetings, in the flower-decked theaters, +or eddying through the foyer; these at first dazed the woman unused to +clubs. But only for a brief time. Presently, she began to be consulted; +her advice was asked; she made a speech in a meeting of the state +delegation. There was, in the speech, her natural clear sense--which +goes for something always and everywhere--there was, also, the mark in +voice and speech and pose, of her years' training with the teachers. "I +believe you could be heard all right, in the theater," said the +president of the state delegation, afterward, "will you make a motion +or two for us, this afternoon?" She made the motions; and, strangely +enough, she wasn't so frightened as she had been in the state +delegation; in fact, she proposed a simple short cut through an +unnecessary dilemma with not much feeling beyond wonderment that so many +clever women could get themselves into such a tangle. The applause and +delight of her companions of the delegation touched her. "I'm in it, +again," she thought, railing at her own vanity, but curiously pleased. +Now, her thoughts were back, groping through the years when she was not +"in it." Not the days of her youth, not at all; she had been the leader +of her mates, an ingenious, tolerant, easy-going leader, admired and +loved, shining among them by right of two years in an eastern +boarding-school and a trip to Europe. + +Not in her early married life, either; although, at first, Darius was +poor and the great wagon manufactory was but a daring experiment. In +those days she knew all her husband's hopes and plans as well as his +troubles. He used to say, often, that she had a good business head. +Those days they lived in a little brown wooden house with a five-foot +piazza; and Darius mowed the tiny lawn himself; and she put up her own +preserves and made all the children's clothes--pretty clothes they were, +too; she was a housewife whose praise was in all the churches. But it +does not follow that she had ceased to be a leader, far from it; she was +the president of the "Ladies' Sewing Society" of her church; and of the +first woman's club, classically named the "Clionian." She was a +progressive spirit; she it was who introduced the regular motion into +the business meetings; before her reign it having been the artless +custom of the societies to talk until the discussion either languished +or grew too violent, when some promoter of harmony would call out, "Let +us put it to vote," whereupon there would be a few timid ayes and a +self-respecting silence instead of no; and the measure would be adopted. +Pertaining to this custom was an inevitable sequel of plaintive +criticism from all the modest souls who "didn't like to speak," but who +were full of foreboding wisdom. Myrtle Hardy was one of the few who +could speak; and she was considered to speak very much to the point. +Those days, she was keenly interested in all the life of a young, +hopeful, bustling little western city. She belonged to a musical +society and would rise at five in the morning to practice, and she was +one of an anxious band of women who had bought a library and were +running an amateur entertainment bureau to support it. Then, Darrie was +in home-made knickerbockers; Myrtie was a sweet, little, loving hoyden +who was her mother's despair because she would climb trees in her white +frocks; Ralph was a baby, and the two little girls that died were their +mother's tiny helpers, with the willingest little hands and feet. +Sitting there in the crowded and noisy theater, a quiver ran over the +mother's face. Her friends had forgotten, the brothers and sisters had +forgotten, even Darius seemed to forget; but, day and night, she +remembered the eager little faces, lighting so happily at her praise, +the shining little heads that used to nestle against her heart. The two +died of scarlet fever in one terrible week. In that week, the first gray +threads had crept into Myrtle Hardy's beautiful brown hair. She was +nurse and comforter and helper, then, to Darius. She felt her eyes cloud +with the vision of him, as he flung himself on the babies' little bed, +sobbing in the terrible, racking passion of a man's grief. "Not now, +dear, not now, not till the others are safe," she had whispered; "we +have them still; they need us." + +She wondered was it after the babies went that she began to drop out of +things. Somehow she was so busy comforting Darius and nursing the others +back to health, and crowding back her own ceaseless grief out of sight; +and thinking of cheerful things to say and new interests for the others, +that the library passed out of corporate existence and into endowed rest +with hardly a thought from her. Nearly at the same time, the musical +society perished in a cataclysm, due to the sensitive musical +temperament, and the literary society died of inanition, after browsing +through literature from Milton to Dante; and after each member had +written one or two papers, thus sating the natural curiosity of the +other members. Myrtle did not lift a hand to save either of the +societies. She heard the wrathful accusations of the musical warriors, +and put in the unappreciated word for peace, but did not resent its +failure. She consoled the literary mourners with the reflection that +they could read up about things in the magazines or the books of the new +library; and masked her secret listlessness with perfunctory regret. +Long after, she came to wonder whether it was not she who went into +prison, then; rather than the world that left her on one side. Did she +not gently but rigidly exclude the friends who would have called upon +her and shut herself apart with her own? Continually, she used to pray +for cheerfuless, for patience; but it never occurred to her to pray for +interest. When other societies were formed, she did not care to join +them; she followed her own advice and read apart by herself. By and by, +although so much more of a personage, she was no longer beset with +invitations. The younger women organized a new club with new methods; +and Myrtle Hardy read her books, peacefully, on her wide piazzas, amid +her plants and flowers. When Myrtie came back from college, Darius asked +her wasn't she going to help Myrtie by joining the club with her? + +"Dear, no," said she, blithely, "they are all so young." + +"Why don't you get up a club of your own, then, and take in the other +left outs?" said he. + +"I don't fancy women's clubs much; you know I did belong to them; they +are half-baked things, and they take their own improvement with such +deadly seriousness. And it is such a smattering that you get in them. A +smattering is always forgotten; unless you know a lot about a thing you +forget it all." + +"Oh, well, you know best what you like," said Darius, easily; "I only +thought you seemed a little dull." He dropped the subject; but she +repeated his words, often to herself; he never had thought her dull, +before. She noticed that Myrtie did not talk of her club. She was +puzzled. Outwardly, Myrtie was a handsome young woman with a highbred +repose of manner which she had acquired as a college editor and the +protector of new girls; inwardly, she was still shy, desperately in +dread of awkwardness, and brimming with enthusiasms. Not until she was +about to be married did her mother find a trace of her little girl in +this gently haughty young creature. And, then, there remained only +Myrtie's last photographs and Myrtie's empty chamber, and the weekly +letters for her mother's hungry heart. "I am not sure I know her," she +would often muse, those days, "I am only sure she doesn't know me!" + +Myrtie lived in Chicago; she had married very well indeed; and had a +prosperous husband who was a graduate of Harvard and dallied with +reform; and there were two sweet little children who called Mrs. Hardy +"Granny"; and Myrtie always consulted her mother when they were ill; she +was a devoted daughter. "When my dear mother was alive," said Mrs. +Hardy, smiling rather grimly, "grannies were not very nice old cronies +who smoked pipes in the chimney corner; and 'Grandma' was good enough +for any grandmother; now, 'Grandma' is provincial and _I_ am a granny, +myself. It is a little puzzling." + +The children were all out of the house, now. Ralph, the youngest, was at +college; she was well acquainted with him; she used to write him about +the books she read and he wrote her about the boys and football; she +knew a great deal about football. She lived in a stately new colonial +house with quaint little window-panes wherever they would not obstruct +the view, and snowy tiled bath-rooms, such as no colonial ever knew; and +terraces decked with pink and blue hydrangeas; and dazzling window +gardens. Myrtie had been as kind as possible about the house; and +Myrtie's taste was charming; it had been an education in colonial +history as well as architecture to have Myrtie help build the house; +even the architect was deferential to her. Across the street was +Darrie's less costly but no less correctly charming house. Hester had +done Myrtie's architectural bidding, also. Darrie was the best of sons. +She was proud of him; and his father depended more and more on him. She +loved his wife; and his children were her vivid delight. Darrie used to +fetch her flowers and new plants for the window gardens; and tell her +about the children's funny sayings. Darius, her husband, grew kinder and +more generous all the time; he gave her a check-book of her own; she +told her old friends that she had the best husband and children in the +world; and that she was a grateful woman; she duly remembered her +abundant mercies in her prayers; and yet--and yet she began to feel +herself retired. A most respectable position, that of a retired officer; +but, somehow, generals and admirals do not covet it. Nor did Myrtle +Hardy. She had been in the center of her own stage; now she felt herself +most gently, most civilly, pushed into the wings. Her daughter-in-law, +with all her admiration and her dutiful respect, had interests which she +never discussed; had a point of view and ideals which were outside her +comprehension. She felt fatigued and puzzled when she heard the younger +generation's familiar speech with itself. "I am not in it," she said to +herself. Darius, too, no longer consulted her; the old fashion of +confidence had somehow slipped away; he had not very much to say when +they were alone; and he was beginning to call her "Mother." Myrtle Hardy +considered. She thought for weeks and thought hard. She sat in her +sewing-room, up-stairs, where were the only two rocking-chairs that +Myrtie's impeccable taste had allowed to abide in the house. She sat +first in one and then in the other of the chairs, her needlework +unheeded in her lap; and watched her little grandson and his sister +playing while the nurse made an interminable German lace on the back +porch; and just across from her window, Hester, her daughter-in-law, sat +amid a heap of books, reading and making notes. "That child has been +studying for three months, every spare moment, on her paper about +'Scientific Plumbing in the Modern Mansion.'" Mrs. Hardy muttered, with +a frown, "well, I hope she will know something, if she keeps her mind! +That was not the way we prepared club papers in my day; we decided on +our subjects one meeting and we read our essays on them the next; and +two weeks was enough for us; now, they spend a half year making a +programme and have it hanging over them a year in advance." She watched +her daughter-in-law, smiling grimly; then, suddenly, she rose, with the +motion of one who has come to a decision. "At least they are not +superficial, nowadays," she said, "and perhaps it is better to take +one's self too seriously than not seriously enough. And after all, +Hester did find out what was the matter with the laundry faucets." + +One day she told her daughter-in-law that she wanted to join a class in +parliamentary law. + +"But we haven't any," objected Mrs. Darius Hardy, Jr., meekly. + +"Then get up one," said the one time president of clubs. "Get all you +can to join a class, send for a teacher, and I will make up the deficit, +in the subscription list." + +A parliamentary teacher of renown came. She was also a teacher of +expression--that was her poetical word. Hester caught her breath the +first time her mother-in-law rose in the class to "speak to the motion." +She embraced her with beaming eyes and the prettiest rose of delight on +her cheeks. "Oh, how did you learn it?" she sighed, happily, "you are +the best of us all!" + +"I took some private lessons in Chicago," said Mrs. Hardy--her quiet +manner did not betray an unexpected thrill. + +"You're _beautiful_!" cried Hester. + +After that, Hester always seconded her mother-in-law's motions; and +fought in the mimic debates as valiantly on her side as a natural +reticence would let her. It was odd (to Mrs. Hardy) what a different +relation grew up between them; a sense of comradeship and the pleasures +of partisanship, wherein it is not only the leader who exults in the +winning fray, the follower has a simpler and a nobler joy. The first +natural consequence of Hester's admiration was that she begged her +mother-in-law to join her club. Before the end of the year, Mrs. Hardy +was elected president of the club; before the end of the next year, she +was burrowing in books and magazines, as absorbed as Hester, in the +conduct of Great Britain to her colonies. She found herself suddenly +interested in the newspapers; Darrie talked politics with her; and they +were no longer unintelligible. + +"Whew, isn't mother getting cultivated!" Darius whispered to his boy; +and they both grinned. + +"She's growing handsomer, too," said Darius the younger. + +"I hope she won't go to any of those fakirs in the newspapers who paint +you all over, so's you crack when you laugh," commented Darius, +anxiously, "and, say, Darrie, there's a way they have, nowadays, of +burning off your skin and giving you a new skin--they call it being +'_done over_'; it must be frightful torture--I'm not going to have your +mother's face sizzled up, that fashion." + +"She doesn't need it; mother's skin is lovely," said the loyal son. + +"Her not needing it is no reason why she won't want it--being a +woman--Darrie. Your mother is the most sensible woman in the world, +Darrie; but she's a woman. And I'm not sure whether a woman ought to +monkey with her age, the way mother is doing. What do you suppose I saw +with my own eyes, yesterday? There was mother, swinging her arms over +her head and bowing like a heathen Chinee, until her slender fingers +touched the floor; and then she went to kicking over the chairs--high +kicks!" + +"Oh, that's only Delsarte--they only do that to limber up and make +themselves graceful. Hetty can kick the chandelier." + +Myrtle caught echoes of this conversation; and was base enough to listen +behind her sewing-room curtains, giving no sign. It was true that a +change had come over her, and that her mirror reflected smarter toilets, +a different carriage, and a fresher charm. For one reason, she looked +younger because she was much more cheerful. "I am a child with a new +toy," she would say to herself. But there is no question that she found +a pungent enjoyment in her new activity. One of the perpetual wonders of +life is how small a figure the stake cuts in the game. It is infinitely +more exciting to make money, for example, than to have it. To keep our +souls in repair they need exercise; and the vicissitudes, the emotions, +the excitement of a career, happily do not depend on the size of the +stage. The great stake, the large stage, count; but they count less than +their claims. What comes to more than the pomp of success (as the vulgar +name an intangible thing) is the elation of using all one's powers; nor +is there any tawdry applause comparable to the rich and fine content of +accomplishment. But often Myrtle caught Darius's pondering eyes and +wondered to herself what he was thinking. Really, Darius was +experiencing the rather piquant emotions of a man who discovers an +entirely new creature in his own wife. By a natural transition his +thoughts went back to the days when he was courting Myrtle Danforth, and +"couldn't make her out;" by an equally natural process of selection, he +fumbled through dim passages in his soul, striving to see the relation +between this assured and graceful woman of affairs and the joyous young +beauty that he had won, the high-hearted comrade of his poverty and +struggles, the tender comforter of his sorrows. A hundred little +trivial, affecting incidents rose out of the hazy years to gripe his +heart. He felt a novel shyness, however; and the only token of his +feelings (outside the check-book) was a habit he had fallen into of +watching his wife when she was not looking. + +Of course, she was aware of it; she was thinking of it at this moment, +while the Massachusetts woman behind her unpacked her conscience on her +nearest Indiana neighbor. + +"And how does Indiana stand?" said the evangelist, finally. + +"Well, if you ask _me_," said the Indianian, wearily, "we have troubles +of our own; and we are not thinking much about it!" + +At this, her companion (also from Massachusetts, but with a sense of +humor), giggled and essayed to cover her indecorum by asking Mrs. Hardy +if she had attended the industrial sessions. "I have tried to go to +them," she confessed, later, after they had become confidential. "My +husband is a manufacturer, and I was anxious to see whether they would +try to get light on the questions that they are tackling, or would +simply form an opinion beforehand and talk about it." + +"Well, how did they strike you?" + +"They didn't strike me at all; I went to two of them; but the first one, +two southern acquaintances of mine lured me out into a committee-room, +to tell me the dreadful things Massachusetts was going to do about the +color question--not one of which had entered our heads, by the way--and +the other meeting, I sat back in the hall and couldn't hear anything, +and a Massachusetts friend came in, very calm but deeply excited, and +got me out in the hall to tell me the plots of the Georgia delegation. +Between them, I didn't hear a word of the industrial question. I'm told +Missouri has been studying preventive legislation in regard to woman and +child labor for the last year; what did they decide to recommend?" + +"Well," said Mrs. Hardy, drily, "you see they were studying for a +_year_; if they had taken the subject for a month or two, no doubt they +would have had opinions; but as it was, they didn't recommend anything. +But what you say about the sessions made me think. I find that there are +two classes of delegates, those who are interested in the meetings and +those who simply go to the meetings to get a better chance to pull +wires. It makes me more at sea than ever about the object of the +federation. What do _you_ think it is?" + +The Massachusetts woman meditated. She was a handsome woman, a woman +with ancestors, it was evident, for the blue and gold of the Colonial +Dames badge, and the enamel star and scarlet ribbon of the Order of +Colonial Governors illuminated the white chiffon of her bodice; and +there were five bars on the scarlet ribbon. "My idea of the object is +simply that it is a clearing-house," said she; "and so far it is +democratic, for it brings us all together; and I," said the descendant +of governors and warriors, "_I'm_ democratic. Look at us. It is not only +that we represent so many different classes, we represent so many +sections of the country. In fact, about this color question, I feel that +it is more important for the north and the south to get acquainted and +friendly, working together, than it is for us to give the opportunities +of the federation to a few colored people." + +"I don't look at it that way, it is a question of right and wrong"--thus +the ardent soul from Massachusetts unfurled her banner to the +breeze--"are you going to do what is right or what is expedient?" The +smouldering fire which had made the deck hot walking all through the +meetings, showed signs of breaking out of cover; everybody in hearing +craned her neck; there were murmurs of approval and polite sniffings of +dissent to the right and to the left. The Massachusetts woman said +"Life is a compromise;" and shrugged her shoulders. Mrs. Hardy put up +the white flag in a mild sentence: "Mrs. Lowe is calling us to order, I +think." + + * * * * * + +The convention had passed safely to the ballot. The opposition had +sprung its mines; and the regulars had discharged their heavy artillery +behind the proper parliamentary subterfuges. The undecided voters had, +as usual, asked to take back their ballots, and as usual had been +refused. The excitement had risen until it showed in white or flushed +faces and strained voices, in clapping, and hisses; but the chairman's +inscrutable calm never changed, and through it all she held the +convention perfectly in hand. + +Two men had safely run the gauntlet of ticket takers, and were seated in +the lower gallery. They were a middle-aged man, dark, portly, carefully +dressed in silver-gray tweeds, with a silk shirt; and a young man, dark, +slender, in a lighter suit, with a stiff white collar on his pink +negligee shirt. There was an air of distinction about both men; they +looked to be men of importance in their own locality, men accustomed to +command and deference; but nothing of gentler modesty and meekness than +their demeanor can be imagined. They shrank back in their seats and sat +close to each other, as one will observe timid children sitting, who +have wandered into a strange house. + +"You--you don't suppose they will put us out? eh, Darrie?" said the +elder, in a low voice, "not _now_?" + +"Of course not," responded Darrie, with simulated lightness; "look there +to the left, there's Myrtie. That president is a good presiding officer; +you would not guess all this row is over her, she's absolutely +impartial--by Jove!" + +"What's the matter? Do you see mother anywhere?" + +"No, sir; did you catch that, the secretary's explanation of the +parliamentary question? Pretty clear, I call it; but they're getting in +all their points, I observe, working questions of privilege for all they +are worth." + +"Very clever, very clever," assented Darius; "there's Hester, mother +isn't with _her_; you don't suppose mother would stay away, this +afternoon?" + +"Never; this is the election afternoon." + +"Myrtie said mother was very much admired and sought after, lots of +invitations; maybe she has gone out to some tea--" + +"They wouldn't have anything this afternoon; don't you see how keyed up +they all are?" + +"I thought I was monstrous clever planning all this," pursued Darius, +with a knitted brow; "your mother forgot this was our anniversary, but I +didn't; I have her present in my pocket; and the dinner ordered; and I +was expecting to surprise her; but if she isn't here--she couldn't have +gone _home_?" + +"Of course not--there she is, don't you see her? looking fresh as +paint!" + +A lady had risen, her voice, mellow and clear, dove through the sonorous +buzz of the hall. + +"Why it's _mother_!" cried Darius, "and if she isn't taking an appeal +from the chair; mother has her nerve with her, to-day." + +Darrie grinned; but as he watched his father's face kindle, his own +changed; he laid his hand on his father's, nodding, softly: "I tell you, +mother's _great_," said he. + +"That little dark-eyed lady is speaking on mother's side"--Darius was +leaning forward with excited interest--"isn't she a pretty creature, +she's little--but, oh my! How clearly she puts it; these southerners +have a natural gift of oratory. Don't think much of that woman who's +trying to call mother down!" + +He was as eager as a boy, the man whose cool head and hard sense had won +him a great fortune; his eyes glistened, the color crept into his cheek; +and he drew a long sigh when the appeal was withdrawn. "Very pretty, +Darrie," he said, "appeal withdrawn, but they have got in their work on +the voters; chairman had to decide against her own friends, and did it +like a Roman soldier. The extraordinary thing to me, Darrie, is how well +they are all keeping their temper. Darrie, didn't you think mother's +voice was good when she spoke; how'd she learn to speak so well?" + +"Oh, she took lessons," returned Darrie, easily; "Hester got her into +them; Hester and mother are great pals." + +"I know; Hester's a remarkable girl, Darrie; she has always appreciated +your mother. Begun again, have they? Started something else while the +ballots are counted. Like a continuous show, isn't it?" + +He listened with a slackened zest while the questions of reorganization +and details of the duties of chairmen pattered through the hour, the +rain after the thunder-storm. Then, unexpectedly, Mrs. Hardy made her +little speech. It was an excellent little speech, good-natured, full of +sense, and with a dash of humor. At first, she was a little nervous, but +she was too interested in her subject to be nervous more than an +instant. Had she known of the presence of two auditors in the gallery, +perhaps her composure had wavered. There could be no doubt regarding +their agitation. They turned pale and clutched each other; then, first +on Darrie's, next on his father's features, dawned and spread a light of +exceeding confidence; with shameless effrontery--considering their +relationship--they stimulated the applause; they beamed over the hits; +and at the close they were radiant. Without a word Darius held out his +hand to his son, who wrung it. Then, they both took a long, long breath +of relief and satisfaction. Darius was the first to speak: "My son," +said he, "I have known your mother for forty years and have been her +husband for thirty-three, but she can surprise me still!" + +"Mother certainly _is_ great," assented Darrie, solemnly; he added his +own little feather of marital triumph: "Hetty always told me so," said +he. + +"Look at those women all around her," said Darius, "patting her on the +shoulder and whispering; _they_ know. Darrie, I'll bet you anything, +there hasn't been another speech in this convention that has put things +as clearly as mother's." + + * * * * * + +Myrtle started when she saw her husband and son smiling in the doorway. +Her daughter-in-law was on one side, her daughter on the other, half a +dozen of her delegation radiated complacency in her wake. "Hasn't she +covered us with glory?" one of the followers called, gleefully to +another. And a little din of compliments fell upon Darius' ears. It is +pleasant to reflect that all over the hall similar groups were exulting +unselfishly over their own prowess and their own heroines. Little did +Darius Hardy concern himself with them. He took his wife under his arm +with a proud and blissful smile. He waved a direction at Darrie: "You +take the girls, Darrie, you'll find a cab, somewhere; I want your mother +to myself. Now, Myrtle, if sated vanity can demand any more, I'll give +it to you in the carriage!" + +A few minutes later, she was gazing, through a happy mist, at the gems +on her heart-shaped locket, murmuring: "And I thought you had forgotten +the day. And you planning this lovely, lovely surprise for me. Oh, I am +so glad, Dar, I didn't know you were there, I couldn't have said a +_word_! Did I--were you--was it _passable_?" + +"You're fishing!" chuckled he; and he kissed her hand. But he whispered +in her ear; and she blushed like a young girl. + +Presently he laughed. "By the way, Myrtle, you haven't told me! Have you +discovered what is the object of the federation?" + +"Certainly," said she, "I don't know what it is for others, but in my +case it is to help me find myself--and my husband!" + + + + +THE LITTLE LONELY GIRL + + +The golf links were picturesque; spreading along the shore or climbing +through the heart of the island set in the great river; here and there a +vista of the huge bulk of the arsenal-shops; walled over the river by +the hills behind opulent, bustling little cities, the fair greens +jeweled by the sun and dappled with shadow from trees older than the +Louisiana Purchase. A breeze shifted the shadows. Willy Butler felt its +touch on his wet forehead. + +He half turned to take out his handkerchief. In the act he saw her. It +was the same girl who had followed the course yesterday. She was alone, +just as she had been alone yesterday. + +The gallery was bobbing like the crest of a wave over the brow of the +hill; the carriages and machines glittered in slow pomp after the rope, +while the favorites and their caddies marched over the slope toward the +bunkers. But Willy and Dickson had only this one follower, a little +lonely figure, slim and straight and nimble, in white linen, whose +brown arms and brown face against her dazzling gown made the effect of a +Russian eikon minus the gold-incrusted robe. She halted when Willy +halted. With impersonal interest she watched Dickson make a strike. At +the clean, beautiful drive she nodded approval. Then her black brows met +in a slightly worried frown. Willy, club in hand, was aware of the +frown. He was aware--in a sort of subconscious way--that she wanted him +to play well; and he was acutely aware that he had not played well this +afternoon. Even his direction, which had always been his best ally, had +not kept its form. Twice had he gone into the rough, losing a shot each +time, despite his really hair-raising recoveries. Now the other man was +two up, with only four more holes to play. At best Willy could but halve +this hole, at best, with a perfect approach and a long putt. "A duffer +at golf, like everything else!" ran his own bitter comment to himself. +He didn't know why he looked up; swinging his club for a trial stroke on +a leaf. Look he did, however, to catch the dark eyes of the little +lonely girl intently watching him. If she had called to him aloud "Brace +up!" he couldn't have heard the words more distinctly. He almost +thought he did hear them, and gave the child an involuntary, +half-starved smile. + +With the same smile on his lips he sent a faultless approach into easy +putting distance, and he felt absurdly pleased because she clapped her +hands. They halved the hole. Dickson, the Harvard champion, looked bored +as he sank on the bench by the red water-cooler. He had been Willy's +classmate a year ago at college, knowing him as the man who makes all +the best societies and "leads the life" may know the recluse who makes +none; he was conscious of a certain irritation peppering his cool +superiority. To think of the millions that shuffling, cowed-looking, +insignificant chap would have, while he, Dickson, had to slave on a +salary. A duffer who couldn't even win a golf game that belonged to him, +because he was rattled! Dickson felt that the ways of Fate were +scandalous. + +Willy had limped up. The day before he had blistered his heel somehow, +and every step cost a pang. He eased the lame foot by resting his weight +on the other. His gray-blue eyes, which only his dead mother had ever +found handsome, scanned with a certain wistfulness Dickson's graceful, +athletic figure and clean, dark profile. His own profile was irregular +and his figure was awkward, with arms too long and shoulders too square +for harmony; he stooped in an ungainly fashion, as if he had the habit +of musing as he walked; his plain face was deeply freckled. Yet as there +was a suggestion of strength in the figure, so there was the same +suggestion in the young mouth and chin, and something clear and +strangely innocent, for a young man, looked out of his eyes. As he +stood, every muscle seemed to sag; he appeared utterly spent; but the +instant Dickson had driven he stepped alertly into his place and sent a +drive like a bird sailing far beyond Dickson's dot of white on the +green. Somehow a new uplift of energy and hope had come to him; bless +that kid, he would show her that he could still do something with the +sticks! He heard her whispered, unconscious "_Beauty!_" This time he +kept his head straight, but when the hole was won, he met her smile +frankly with another. The next hole was easy. He had steadied; he had +his nerve back; every calculation worked; and when Dickson stymied, it +was a simple trick (the like of which he had practiced often) to hop +over the ball and roll into the hole, to the artless joy of his caddy. +"You're going to be the champeen," this worthy told Willy when they +trudged on; "guess that young lady's a mascot." + +"I guess she is," said Willy. He was sure of it when at the home hole, +guarded by a high hedge, Dickson's ball was sliced into the stubborn net +of osage-orange roots. When his own ball sailed cleanly over the wall he +made an excuse of tying his shoe in order to get another view of "that +kid's" brilliant smile. The girl herself went on to the bench in sight +of the blackboard. Here she found herself beside an elderly man with a +great head of thick gray hair. He was clapping so vigorously that she +took him to be Willy's father, and sent him a glance of sympathy. "You +been all 'round with him?" said he. "What sort of a game is he playing?" + +"Pretty bad until the fifteenth, and then a wonder," she returned +calmly. + +"Rattled!" he snorted in disgust, as he chewed his cigar out of shape. +"First match game. How are the others? What's his chance?" + +"He can beat them all if he will only think so," she returned in the +same even tone. Her voice was fuller, with a different and more +melodious intonation than those about him; he looked up at her quickly, +as if from a passing sense of the difference. + +"Yes, he's rattled!" grunted the elderly gentleman. "Gone stale, +practicing every minute. Too anxious. Wants to please his father by +getting a little silverware." + +"Aren't you his father?" + +"_Me?_ No. His father could buy me up out of his pocket-money. His +father is Hiram G. Butler. I'm only his boss. He's learning the steel +business with me. I wish I _was_ his father; he's a genius in his way." + +"I suppose his father is awfully proud of him." + +"Proud nothing!" exploded the stout gentleman. "His father has bought +and sold and fought inventors so long that when he discovered that his +son was hatching formulas for open-hearth steel he was disgusted. Then +at college Will took honors in chemistry and was a grind; and when his +father wanted to load him with money, and told him to go ahead and make +all the societies, he sent the money back and said he didn't know any +boys in societies; the boys who ran after him were only after his money +and the other boys didn't want him. The trouble simply is he is too +all-fired shy and modest. Takes his father's word he is a failure +because he couldn't make their fool societies. How should a fellow who +has spent his life in English schools and traveling about with a tutor, +and then is dumped into Harvard, be expected to make a splash among +those snippy young swells? Harvard's no violet cold-frame! The other +boys did, but they were chips of the old block, hard as nails and +hustlers from 'way back. And since his mother died this poor chap has +had nobody to chirk him up. Father didn't mind until the other boys +died. All three in one year; pretty tough on their father. Pretty tough. +Ever lose--ur-r!--any one in your family? Then you know. Now Willy's the +only child, and his father wants to make him over in his brothers' +image. Wants to give him a wife to help! And Willy so scared of a +petticoat he walked two hours up and down before the Somerset Hotel at +his first college dance trying to screw up courage to go in--and +couldn't. Hiram never will get over that. But Willy, though he won't +marry to please his father, is fond of the old dictator just the same. +And mighty proud. That's why he has worked so at golf. Trying to show he +can do some things like other boys, you see. Well, I see that Harvard +dude has got his ball on the green at last. Now it's up to Willy--Didn't +I tell you? In all right! Shall--Oh!" It was a singularly small, soft +"Oh!" which the elderly man uttered, and it slipped out of his rugged +lips when he caught the shy flash from Willy's eyes at the girl. He +studied her an infinitesimal space before he spoke, and he turned a +chuckle into a cough as he said, "Aren't you Lady Jean Bruce-Hadden and +aren't you visiting the Brookes?" + +She said that she was, rather indifferently, her gaze still following +Willy, who was accepting Dickson's congratulations less awkwardly than +was his wont. + +"I guess Major Brooke has told you about me, Jabez Rivers--" + +But ere he could finish the name, she had held out her hand with a +kindling face, crying, "Oh, indeed, yes. I'm ever so glad to meet you, +Mr. Rivers." + +After this it was only natural to present Willy; but it was a bit of a +surprise to have Willy, when presented, say, "This is my mascot, sir. I +lost the game and she made me win it." + +Willy was astonished at his own fluency; but then he had thought Lady +Jean a very young girl, not quite the "kid" that he had styled her, but +still hardly a young lady. Then, anyhow, she was different. Oh, _very_ +different! + +His friend was eying him critically, with queer little grunts, according +to his fashion. "You're not fit to walk," he grumbled. "Why _will_ young +folks wear shoes that don't fit! Say, you take Lady Jean home while I go +over to the club-house with the major. And keep the car if you don't +find me. I'll go back with Standish. And--I don't know but you better +take her 'round the head of the island and show her that motor +mowing-machine--lawn-mower, you know; I want her to see it." + +He grinned as the young people obeyed him with grateful docility, +speeding away in his electric runabout; and bestowed a look of orphic +sagacity upon the officer in white undress uniform who had joined him. +The officer was younger than Rivers, although not young. + +"That is one of the very finest little ladies in the world," he +remarked. + +To which Rivers returned dryly, "So you've told me. And that's one of +the finest, decentest, cleanest fellows in the world with her." + +"As you've told _me_." + +Rivers grunted. "Go over that lingo you told me about the girl again--or +I'll repeat to see if I've got it straight. She's the fifth daughter of +the Earl of Paisley, Scotch earl, and poor as even a Scotch earl can be. +He has no sons. Distant cousin heir to title. Countess dead. Oldest +daughter married to Baron Fairley; second, widow of a bishop; third, +wife of army officer. Bishopess manages family. She has brought Lady +Moira and the earl over here to give American millionaires a chance with +Lady Moira, who is the family beauty; and little Jean, who is good as +gold, and has sense, but isn't showy, was just thrown in because an +old-maid aunt offered to pay her expenses. Your wife, who knew them in +Scotland, asked her to come here while the Bishopess, in New York, picks +out the most eligible of the millionaire admirers. So?" + +"Yes. Well?" + +"Come on over to the club-house; and while we rest a bit, you telephone +over to Mrs. Brooke, who only needs a tip to go straight, to _make_ +Willy Butler stay to dinner--" + +"Oh, I say--" began the major. + +"No, you don't say anything. You don't ask questions. You have +confidence in your Uncle Jabez and do what he asks. _Not?_" + +"I will," said the major, and he went away smiling. + + * * * * * + +How astonishing to be taking a girl about alone and not be in torments +of embarrassment! But this girl was so nice and simple and boyish; not +the least like those snippy Boston buds! And she knew golf to the +ground; it seemed the most natural thing in the world to ask her if she +was going to watch Cleaves play to-morrow. + +"I thought I'd follow you," she said quietly. "Do you want +to--fire--isn't that what you call it?--your mascot?" + +"Will you? Will you really?" he stammered in his pleasure. "I had a +sneaking hope, but I didn't d-dare--I feel if you d-do, I'll beat my +man; they say he is easy, and then I'll be Cleaves' runner-up and get a +cup." + +"Why not beat Cleaves and get the big cup?" said she in the same cool +tone. "You can if you will. You know perfectly well you can. Promise me +you will." + +"Here and now?" said Willy, smiling faintly, but the light in her eyes +struck a glint in his own. "Done," he added, holding out his hand. Her +clasp was cool and soft, but as firm and frank as a boy's. + +"And now," said she, "where's your lawn-mower?" + +They had reached the head of the island, where there was a beautifully +shaven sweep of lawn, but no vestige of mower; Willy's pulses beat a +thought faster, and he felt himself a master of stratagem when he +suggested their searching for it in an impossible locality at the +farther end if the island. He found that she could talk as well about +other things as golf. There was no froth in her talk, but she was very +witty; Willy, who passed for an abnormally serious young fellow, laughed +several times. He confessed to her that it was more like talking to a +boy than to a girl to talk to her. "I've always wanted to be a boy," she +laughed. "You can play I am one, if you like." + +"But I'm afraid you would miss the pretty speeches, and all that." + +"I never had any," she answered, with her flashing smile. "Maybe when +I'm presented I shall have if we have enough money next year to have me +come out. But I don't believe I shall. If you had four sisters all +raving beauties and tremendously fetching, and you couldn't even sing a +song, do nothing but ride and play tennis--well, you wouldn't expect +pretty speeches!" + +"Why not? You are pretty, too. You--" + +She stopped him with a raised finger and a shrug of her shoulders. He +wondered why he had never noticed before what lovely lines pertain to +girls' shoulders and how daintily their little heads are set on their +smooth olive throats. "Plain truth, you know," said she; "we're playing +being two boys." + +To save the situation he went on precipitately, "I dare say I know, +though. I never was lucky enough to have a sister, but as I had three +brothers who did everything I can't do, I know how it feels to--to be +out of it." + +"But you understand my sisters are splendid and no end nice to me." + +"So were my brothers," said Willy loyally. + +She looked at him with a quick sympathy. "I know," she murmured. "Mr. +Rivers told me. And all in one year. It must have been dreadful." + +"Yes, it was. But it was worse when my mother died." + +"Oh, yes. I was sixteen when my mother died. And I miss her so now. +Don't you?" + +"Yes. I was fifteen." + +They were both silent. The weight of their piteous memories was on both +young hearts, and yet in each was a sense of companionship, of the +sympathy of a common pain. The tears gathered slowly in the girl's eyes; +she put her hand up her sleeve, but withdrew it empty, and the young +man, taking out his own handkerchief, which had surely seen hard usage, +looked disconsolately on it before tendering the freshest corner. "It's +pretty mussy, but I lost the others," he apologized. + +"And you have pockets, too! I lose handkerchiefs to an appalling +extent." + +"So do I." It was wonderful how many things they had in +common--thoughts, opinions, most delightfully human of all, faults. He +felt emboldened to say that it must be a great comfort to have a +sister; he had always wanted one. + +"They're a good deal of a nuisance, most boys think," said she, "but I +don't know why. I know I shouldn't have been a nuisance to my brothers +and I should rather like to have had one. We might have been pals." + +His eyes sparkled; he felt that he was about to make a proposal as +daring as it was original; but he made it, clutching the lever under his +hand more firmly in his agitation, yet not hesitating. "If we are going +to play things, why not play you are my sister? It would be easier than +being two boys. You see I should all the time be afraid of forgetting +somehow and saying something unbecoming, or too rough, if we played you +were a boy." + +She had more sense of humor than he, although she was scarcely less +innocent; she laughed, saying, "Most boys are rough enough to their +sisters. Besides, I don't know you well enough." + +"You know me better than any one in the world does," he answered +gravely. Their young eyes met and darted away. He thought how lovely her +eyes were. Not so much in color or form, perhaps, but in expression. He +wished that he could see them that way again. But she had turned away. +He was worried lest he might unwittingly have offended her. He knew (for +his French tutor had told him) how easy it is for a man to blunder +clumsily into a woman's fine reserves and sensitive modesty; it was a +great relief to have her turn swiftly toward him again and smile as she +said, "But _you_ don't know _me_!" + +"Maybe not; I'm asking you to give me the chance." + +"Oh! Is that why? Just to amuse you." + +"You know better," said he, "for at least you know _me_." + +"That was disagreeable of me," she admitted penitently. "I do know +better. Please forgive me!" + +"Then you will play it?" he said eagerly. "You know I did what you +wanted. I promised to win the cup." + +His first gleam of masterful daring did not displease the girl; +possibly, it obscurely gratified her. "But you must be good and win," +she said, conceding the point in the immemorial feminine fashion which +would always march out of a surrendered keep with flags flying. + +"I will be good and win," repeated Willy obediently. + +There fell a little silence, during which they had glimpses of soft +green woods, of distant harvest-fields and of the shimmer of sunlit +waves. Vagrant odors of new-mown hay were wafted to them when the breeze +stirred. An oriole's note rose out of the dim forest paths, poignantly +sweet. Presently the lad spoke, not so much frightened at his own +audacity as amazed at his lack of fear. "Since you are playing my +sister, do you mind telling me your name? Did he say Buchanan?" + +"No; Bruce-Hadden." + +His face lighted as he exclaimed boyishly, "I _knew_ I had known you! +And I have--at least, I've seen your picture. You are Oswald Graham's +cousin Jean." + +"Of course; and you--you are his Yankee friend at Eton, the one who +fought him because he said things about America!" + +"And jolly well licked I was, too," said Willy gaily. "I didn't even +know how to put up my hands; he made a gorgeous mess of me. And then he +hunted me up and took it all back. Of course we were chums after that. I +was going to visit him in the holidays, but--" + +"But he was drowned, trying to save a child." + +"He did save her. He always did what he set out to do. And if I had only +been there--" + +"I understand. He said you could swim like a duck." + +"It's the only sport I'm not a muff at," said Willy dismally. "It's just +my long arms. But he, _he_ could do anything. I don't suppose I'll ever +stop missing him. He was the only boy friend I ever had." + +"But you have men friends now," she said gently. + +"Yes." He sat up more erect in his seat. "You saw Mr. Rivers. He's the +best ever." + +"I've heard about how good he is and how gruff. That's the kind I like; +no nonsense about them. I hate sissy men, don't you?" + +Willy assented, but without animation; he was diffidently searching his +inner consciousness as to whether he himself had not been accused of +being a sissy. "Sometimes a fellow seems a sissy when he isn't," he +offered. + +"Oh, _often_," she agreed heartily; "but the man they want Moira to +marry is a genuine muff, a horrid, languid-affected New Yorker who talks +like a guardsman and makes fun of his own country. Moira can't endure +him; but he offers to settle half a million on her, and we let Effie +marry a captain of the line who had only a thousand a year--" + +"That was _you_," interrupted Willy fervently. "You did that. Oswald +told me--" + +"No, it was dad; he couldn't bear to have Effie so unhappy when I told +him how she might go into a decline, she felt so wretched. But you see, +having let Effie do that and helping her out, we couldn't afford any +more detrimentals, although Jimmy's got his colonelcy and the cross and +they are ever so happy. But we can't afford another love match. The +bishop is dead and Ellen hasn't very much; and Lord Fairley has a big +family; he was a widower with five when Ellen married him, and they have +two; and _we_ are so deadly poor. It is really necessary, but it's +awful. And I am sure she cares a lot for Reggy Sackville, a kind of +cousin of ours who is a barrister, and she is sure he will be a judge, +he is so clever; but he couldn't support a wife for years and years. +Don't you think it's really and truly awful to have to marry _anybody_?" + +"Awful--intolerable," agreed Willy. "I simply will not." + +"And _your_ father wants you--" She looked so sympathetic that Willy +broke right in: + +"Yes. I never seem able to do anything my father wants. I can't manage +men and make friends and run the business as my brothers did. Now he +wants me to marry a girl he has picked out for me; and I've got to +disappoint him again. I wrote him I'd try to meet his wishes every other +way--I'd accept dinner invitations; I'd learn the steel business; I +could ride and run an automobile, and I had been up in an airship, and +I'd try to win a golf cup; and I'm taking bridge lessons, but--the hand +of Douglas was his own, you know." + +"I think that's splendid!" cried the girl heartily. "_I_ don't want to; +but maybe I shall have to, to save Moira." + +"Don't you do it!" he exclaimed. "It makes me sick to think of their +trying to force you into such a thing." He did look moved. + +"Don't get into such a wax. They can't force me--do I look like a person +to be forced?--and poor old daddy of all people in the world! If you +just knew him; we're the greatest pals in the world. But there's Moira. +If I were to marry some one with a lot of money, she could marry poor +Reggy; and Moira couldn't stand being unhappy near so well as I can." + +"Who's the man?" growled Willy in a tone of mingled gloom and fury. + +"I don't know his name," replied the girl sadly. "It was like this: Dad +met his father, and they became very chummy, and they got to talking. He +talked about his son, who is a 'nice fellow' with elegant tastes and +doesn't like business. Oh, I know, a perfectly odious person." + +"Odious," Willy agreed morosely; "a downright _sissy_! You'd be +_watched_!" + +"Yes," sighed Lady Jean; "but Moira would be wretcheder because she +would always be thinking of Reggy. And besides"--she grew more +cheerful--"men never fancy me; no doubt he'll think I'm too ugly and +dowdy, and I'm so shy I shall be hideously awkward." + +"You're nothing of the kind!" Willy interrupted; "it--it's the most +abominable cold-blooded bargain-and-sale business! And your father told +you--" + +"Oh, no, he didn't tell me. It was Ellen. She was so pleased; she never +had any hopes of _me_, don't you know; and now she says they won't need +to sacrifice Moira. But if the young man doesn't want me, _I_ shan't be +to blame. Now tell me about your girl!" + +"There's nothing to tell. I never saw her. I don't know her name, even. +Only she's got a title; and she is very brilliant and charming and +modest, and I'll be lucky. It's another case of parents butting in. All +he wants, he says, is for me to _see_ her; I told him I should run away +if I knew I were in the same town! But never mind me. Don't worry, +little girl. _I'll_ think up a way to save you all right, all right." + +His face, as he spoke, was stern and dark. She was sure that he must +have great latent strength of character. + +Abruptly she changed the subject recalling the elusive mowing-machine +and the approach of the Brookes' dinner-hour. Willy was sure that Mr. +Rivers would want her to see the mower, it was--was--so typically +American; and if he would take her directly and swiftly home, wouldn't +she go on another search to-morrow? + +"If you win," said she; she felt that she must hesitate at nothing which +would give him that cup. "Another thing, don't you give another thought +to me; you think every minute of your game. If you distract your mind it +may get onto your game." + +"I won't let it hurt my game, don't you worry," returned Willy +confidently. + +Mrs. Brooke had none of the difficulty which she had anticipated in +persuading Willy to dine with them; and she wondered what suffering +friends of hers who had had his reluctant presence at social functions, +meant by their stories. To be sure, he didn't talk much, but he was a +most intelligent listener; and he was visibly having a good time. + +The next day it was bruited about (no one but Jabez Rivers, who had +walked the links with a reporter, could have quite told how) that young +Butler was playing a wonderful game. A dozen of the golf lovers deserted +the great man and his only less great opponent and saw Willy limp over +eleven links, as he beat his man with leisurely ease. + +That afternoon, while again searching for the mowing-machine which that +unsuspected but efficient emissary of the Blind God, Jabez Rivers, had +advised them to be sure to find--after with his own eyes he had seen it +trundling into the garage--Willy submitted his plan of rescue. They were +rolling noislessly along a wide avenue, above which the great elm boughs +made a vaulted arch like the groined vault of a cathedral. Through the +arches filtered the sunset rose. Willy suddenly stopped the machine. He +did not look at her. He clutched the handle of the lever very hard; and +she was positive he was pale, a pallor which threw his freckles into +high relief. But she was thinking of anything else than freckles. + +"I've thought it all out," said Willy very firmly, "and I wouldn't +bother you the least little bit, not the least. And we think alike about +so many things. I believe I could make it all right with your people. I +can do anything, when _you_ are backing me. It would ease my mind +awfully; I should be sure to win the cup. I know that would please my +father, and he'd help us, maybe. Besides, I've a fortune of my own; I'd +settle it all on you--" + +"What _do_ you mean?" cried Lady Jean. + +"You wouldn't need to marry anybody else if you married _me_," said +Willy. + +"_My word!_" gasped Lady Jean. "But you told me you didn't want to marry +_anybody_." + +"I shouldn't mind _you_ so much," said he. + +She was thoughtful, her own mind a chaos to herself. She stole a furtive +glance at his miserable face; something tender and compassionate and +strange made her lips quiver, but she set them closely. + +"You would be making an awful sacrifice for me?" + +He did not deny it. + +"It would be an awful sacrifice for me, too." + +"I know," he acquiesced sadly. + +"Still--I suppose you ought to have your mind settled before to-morrow +or it will get on your game." + +"Yes, that's just it! I'd be awfully grateful--" + +Without any warning she began to laugh. "I think you are the funniest +boy in the world! I don't want to marry anybody. I want to live with +daddy and take care of him and be like Aunt Jean, but if I _have_ to +marry anybody, I'd rather marry you. Shall we let it go at that for the +present?" + +"You are awfully good," cried the boy. He wondered at the extraordinary +calm, almost elation, of his mood. That he should be engaged to be +married and not be revolving suicide! He had read of the exaltation of +self-sacrifice--maybe this was it. But how hard it must be for her. + +"I'll make it just as easy for you as I can--dear." He added the last +word very softly. Probably she didn't hear it, for she answered in her +ordinary tone, not in the least offended, that she knew he would, then +immediately demanded a sight of the mowing-machine; since it wasn't +there, he would better take her home. + +"Don't you begin to love this island?" he said, as he obeyed her. + +"It is lovely," she said: "I never thought I could really like any place +without mountains, but I do." + +"I love mountains," said Willy. + +"They were again surprised at their similarity of taste. Motor-cars and +carriages passed them continually; luxurious open vehicles, victorias +and golf-carts and automobiles with their hoods lowered, disclosing +billows of diaphanous feminine finery and pretty, uncovered girlish +heads. Willy marveled over his own ease as he returned greetings +punctiliously. A week ago he would have raced his horse into the darkest +woodland road to escape a passing salute, the hazard of a little casual +badinage. + +"How pretty American girls are," said Lady Jean a little wistfully; +"such lovely wavy hair." + +Willy's glance furtively took note of her sleek brown head and the heavy +braid between her slim shoulders, which had caused him to think her a +child. + +"I don't much like this corrugated hair," said he carelessly; "it looks +so machine-made." + +Lady Jean declined all proffers of seats, even Rivers' invitation to a +place by him in his runabout. She was going to walk; one could see +better walking. Which was entirely correct, but was not her most +intimate reason; in truth she could not endure to be sitting at her ease +while Willy, footsore and weary, would be doggedly tramping after his +ball. He presented rather a grotesque figure, did Willy, that eventful +morning, being shod as to his sound foot with one of his own neat golf +shoes, but as to his left (thanks to the ministrations of Rivers), with +one of the latter's ample slippers over swathings of bandage soaked in +healing-lotion. Every caddy on the ground (except Willy's) was in +secret ecstasies over his appearance. "We ain't out for a beauty prize, +but the champeen golf cup," says the faithful Tommy haughtily. "Yes, +that's a bottle of liniment. I wet him up with it between whiles. He's +in terrible agony. But he don't mind long's he can keep limber. And say, +jest git onto our game, will you? Two up, and first round over." + +Tommy and Jean were waiting when the first round ended, Rivers having +taken the Brookes to the luncheon-tent to secure seats for them all. The +game that morning had surprised all but the newspaper men and the few +who had followed Willy the day before. The only hope of the friends of +the champion lay in the possible exhaustion of the lame wonder whose +unerring approaches were even more dangerous than his drives and his +putts. "If his foot holds out," Rivers said to Brooke, "he's got the +cup." + +And at this very moment, as if fate conspired against Willy's chances, a +frightful commotion arose. Willy, talking to Jean a moment about the +game, could see the gay groups outside the white tent scatter in violent +agitation with waving hands; could hear an uproar of shouts and screams. +There came a quick change in Lady Jean's face, in every face near--the +caddy's, the young red-jacketed officer's at the blackboard, the women's +faces in a passing carriage. At first no intelligible sound penetrated +the din; but in a thought's time a blood-curdling cry tore out of a +score of throats, "Mad dog! Mad dog!" as men with golf-irons and +pistols, raced toward the little group on the links, after a +foam-flecked, glaring-eyed, panting little beast. The creature made +straight for Tommy, who fled like a deer; but his foot hit the marker, +and he stumbled and fell. It seemed in the same eyeblink that the dog +was on the child and Willy Butler was on the dog, his bare hands +twisting its collar into a tourniquet. + +With one impulse Lady Jean and the young officer each snatched a +golf-club and sprang to help him. "Keep off!" he cried. "I can hold him. +Get a strap; we have to keep him alive to find out--_Jean!_ For God's +sake--" + +His heart seemed to stand still. Lady Jean had dropped on her knees by +the dog, shielding him from the young officer's club. "Don't," she said; +"_he's_ not mad! It's Mrs. Brooke's dog--Why can't you _see_? The poor +brute's _wagging his tail_!" + +"He is," said Willy; "hold up, boys! A mad dog doesn't wag his tail." He +released the tourniquet sufficiently to free a piteous whimper. A second +later he lifted his hand off the dog, which wriggled into Lady Jean's +compassionate arms as a voice announced, "That's not the dog!" + +The real mad dog--if mad he were--had been despatched by a single shot +from a soldier's gun, rods away; but a panic-stricken crowd had used the +customary judgment of panic, and pursued the wrong dog. + +"And now," wrathfully declared Jabez Rivers to his army cronies, "now +that poor boy has probably put his wrist out of whack; and his father +coming in on the two o'clock train to see him fight for the cup! And +this old fool telegraphed for him to come." + +Nevertheless he kept a semblance of confidence. And he has always liked +Dickson because he was so sure Willy would win. He offered to caddy for +Willy; but Willy gratefully declined, because it would break Tommy's +heart; Tommy's mother was coming over to see the game. "He's a real +dead-game sport," Dickson ended, "and a little thing like a spurious +mad dog isn't going to put him out of the running." + +Nor did it; Cleaves made up one of his missing holes, but he got no +farther; and at the sixteenth hole Rivers and a small, keen-eyed, +quiet-looking man stood up in a runabout and shouted while the great +Cleaves, bewildered but invincibly courteous, shook hands with Willy +Butler. + +"You wait until he has cleaned up a bit" advised Rivers; "give the boy's +girl a chance first--there they are; she's talking to him now." + +Mr. Butler knew who she was; she had been pointed out to him before; +possibly having watched her carefully through the progress of the game, +he knew something else, being a man who came to conclusions quickly, on +occasion. He looked at her now; he looked at Rivers; the only words that +escaped his lips--in a very small, low voice--were, "Wouldn't that make +a man believe in answers to prayers!" + +"Willy's been going some," said Rivers. "I don't know who you've up your +sleeve for him, but we've picked out a winner--a sweet, brave, +true-hearted little lady. Don't _you_ butt in, Hiram." + +"Well, hardly," said Hiram Butler, "since her father and I picked her +out first. But, Jabez, blood will tell; I knew Willy had the makings. +Now suppose you and I put the young folks into the machine. They can do +their courting on the way." + +It may be presumed that he knew, although they took their own original +way to Arcadia. Fifteen minutes later, in the heart of the woods which +they had sought because, although much longer to the club-house by that +road, Willy needed its cool refreshment; fifteen minutes later the boy +was saying, "I had to write the note because I didn't have a chance to +see you. Have you read it?" He looked up tremulously. "I write an +awfully blind handwriting always, and to-day, with playing golf and all, +it's worse than ever." + +"You could read it out to me, you know," said the girl; she pulled the +score-card, on which Willy had scribbled, from her sleeve, and both the +young heads bent over it. "'Dear Jean,'" read Willy; then he added, "I +hope you don't think that presumptuous, but being engaged--" + +"No, never mind that; you called me that to-day, already, at the top of +your voice, too." + +"You scared me stiff--Jean." + +"You scared me first--before I knew it was Flukes. You are an awfully +reckless boy." + +"I will go on," said Willy; "it's short." He read: + +"'Dear Jean, I forgot to say one thing yesterday when I asked you to +marry me; I love and adore you. Yours very sincerely, William Godfrey +Butler.'" + +He said nothing more; neither did she say anything for a space. The +squirrels watched them with their bright little eyes, and scampered +fearlessly up the very tree under which their car had halted. All at +once she began to laugh. "My word! but you look miserable, William +Butler. I know it is a sacrifice; I made up my mind to release you; I +only consented yesterday to make you easy in your mind for the game." + +Then he surprised her. "That was yesterday," said he. "To-day I know why +all the world has been different ever since I saw you; I knew everything +I felt when you ran to that dog--" + +"Then it will not be an awful sacrifice for you?" + +He took her little cold brown hand; I had forgotten there was such a +thing in the world as fear. "It will be heaven for me," he said. "But +for you?" + +She looked away at the squirrels; she tried in vain to speak in her +gay, light tone. "I--I found out something this morning, too." + +So Arcady lured two new explorers, who, going through its subtly winding +paths, naturally took quite a little while to reach the club-house and +the ovation waiting the champion. Just outside the portals Lady Jean +uttered a little cry. "Why, I do believe! Why, _Willy_! There's the +motor mower!" + +There in the body, resting amid long lines of green stubble, there, +indeed, stood the long-sought mower. + +"I'm obliged to it," said Willy, "but I don't need it now." + + + + +THE HERO OF COMPANY G + + +The flies and the sun! The sun and the flies! The two tents of the +division ward in the hospital had been pitched end to end, thus turning +them into one. The sun filtered through the cracks of the canvas; it +poured in a broad, dancing, shifting column of gold through the open +tent flap. The air was hot, not an endurable, dry heat, but a moist, +sticky heat which drew an intolerable mist from the water standing in +pools beneath the plain flooring of the tents. The flies had no barrier +and they entered in noisome companies, to swarm, heavily buzzing, about +the medicine spoons and the tumblers and crawl over the nostrils and +mouths of the typhoid patients, too weak and stupid to brush them away. +The other sick men would lift their feeble skeletons of hands against +them; and a tall soldier who walked between the cots and was the sole +nurse on duty, waved his palm-leaf fan at them and swore softly under +his breath. + +There were ten serious cases in the ward. The soldier was a raw man +detailed only the day before and not used to nursing, being a blacksmith +in civil life. An overworked surgeon had instructed him in the use of a +thermometer; but he was much more confident of the success of his lesson +than the instructed one. There was one case in particular bothered the +nurse; he returned to the cot where this case lay more than once and +eyed the gaunt figure which lay so quietly under the sheet, with a +dejected attention. Once he laid his hand shyly on the sick man's +forehead, and when he took it away he strangled a desperate sort of +sigh. Then he walked to the end of the tent and stared dismally down the +camp street, flooded with sunshine. "Well, thank God, there's Spruce!" +said he. A man in a khaki uniform, carrying a bale of mosquito netting, +was walking smartly through the glare. He stopped at the tent. "How goes +it?" said he, cheerfully but in the lowest of tones. He was a short man +and thin, but with a good color under his tan, and teeth gleaming at his +smile, white as milk. + +"Why, I'm kinder worried about Maxwell--" + +Before he could finish his sentence, Spruce was at Maxwell's cot. His +face changed. "Git the hot-water bottle quick's you can!" he muttered, +"and git the screen--the one I made!" As he spoke he was dropping brandy +into the corners of Maxwell's mouth. The brandy trickled down the chin. + +"He looks awful quiet, don't he?" whispered the nurse with an awestruck +glance. + +"You git them things!" said Spruce, and he sent a flash of his eyes +after his words, whereat the soldier shuffled out of the tent, returning +first with the screen and last with the bottles. Then he watched +Spruce's rapid but silent movements. At last he ventured to breathe: +"Say, he ain't--he ain't--he ain't--?" + +Spruce nodded. The other turned a kind of groan into a cough and wiped +his face. Awkwardly he helped Spruce wherever there was the chance for a +hand; and in a little while his bungling agitation reached the worker, +who straightened up and turned a grim face on him. + +"Was it me?" he whispered then. "For God's sake, Spruce--I did +everything the doctor told me, nigh's I could remember. I didn't disturb +him, 'cause he 'peared to be asleep. I--I never saw a man die before!" + +"It ain't no fault of yours," said Spruce in the same low whisper. "I'm +sorry for you. Did you give him the ice I got?" + +"Yes, I did, Sergeant." + +"And was there enough for Green and Dick Danvers?" + +"Yes, I kept it rolled up in flannel and newspapers. Say, I got a little +more, Sergeant." + +"How?" + +"The doctors or some fellers had a tub of lemonade outside, a little bit +further down. I chipped off a bit." + +Spruce ground his teeth, but he made no comment. All he said was, "You +go git Captain Hale and report. Tell the captain I got his folks' +address. They'll want him sent home. They're rich folks and they were +coming on; guess they're on the way now. Be quiet!" + +The soldier was looking at the placid face. A sob choked him. "He said, +'Thank you,' every time I gave him anything," he gulped. "God! it's +murder to put fools like me at nursing; and the country full of women +that know how and want to come!" + +"S-s-s! 'Tain't no good talking. You done your best. Go and report." + +As the wretched soldier lumbered off, Spruce set his teeth on an ugly +oath. + +"I ought to have stayed, maybe," he thought, "but I've been doing with +so little sleep, my head was feeling dirty queer; and the doctor sent +me. Collapse, of course; temperature ran down to normal, and poor Tooley +didn't notice, and him too weak to talk! Well, I hope I git the G boys +through, that's all I ask!" + +He went over to the next cot, where lay the nearest of the G boys, +greeting him cheerily. "Hello, Dick?" + +Dick was a handsome young specter, just beginning to turn the corner in +a bad case of typhoid fever. His blue eyes lighted at Spruce's voice; +and he sent a smile back at Spruce's smile. "Did you get some sleep?" +said he. "What's that you have in your hand?" + +"That's milk, real milk from a cow. Yes, lots of sleep; you drink that." + +The sick man drank it with an expression of pleasure. "I don't believe +any of the others get milk," he murmured; "save the rest for Edgar." + +"Edgar don't need it, Dick," Spruce answered gently. + +Dick drew a long, shivering sigh and his eyes wandered to the screen. +"He was a soldier and he died for his country jest the same as if he +were hit by a Mauser," said Spruce--he had taken the sick boy's long, +thin hand and was smoothing his fingers. + +"It's no more 'an what we all got to expect when we enlist." + +"Of course," said Dick, smiling, "that's all right, for him or for me, +but he--he was an awfully good fellow, Chris." + +"Sure," said Spruce. "Now, you lie still; I got to look after the other +boys." + +"Come back when you have seen them, Chris." + +"Sure." + +Spruce made his rounds. He was the star nurse of the hospital. It was +partly experience. Chris Spruce had been a soldier in the regulars and +fought Indians and helped the regimental surgeon through a bad attack of +typhoid. But it was as much a natural gift. Chris had a light foot, a +quick eye, a soft voice; he was indomitably cheerful and consoled the +most querulous patient in the ward by describing how much better was his +lot with no worse than septic pneumonia, than that of a man whom he +(Spruce) had known well who was scalped. Spruce had enlisted from a +Western town where he had happened to be at the date of his last +discharge. He had a great opinion of the town. And he never tired +recalling the scene of their departure, amid tears and cheers and the +throbbing music of a brass band, with their pockets full of cigars, and +an extra car full of luncheon boxes, and a thousand dollars company +spending money to their credit. + +"A man he comes up to me," says Spruce, "big man in the town, rich and +all that. He says, calling me by name--I don't know how he ever got my +name, but he had it--he says, 'I'm told you've been with the regulars; +look after the boys a little,' says he. 'That I will,' says I, 'I've +been six years in the service and I know a few wrinkles.' I do, too. He +gave me a five-dollar bill after he'd talked a while to me, and one of +his own cigars. 'Remember the town's back of you!' says he. 'Tis, too. +I'd a letter from the committee they got there, asking if we had +everything; offering to pay for nurses if they'd be allowed. Oh, it's a +bully town!" + +Spruce himself had never known the sweets of local pride. He had drifted +about in the world, until at twenty he drifted into the regular army. He +had no kindred except a brother whose career was so little creditable +that Spruce was relieved when it ended--were the truth known, in a +penitentiary. He had an aunt of whom he often spoke and whom he esteemed +a credit to the family. She was a widow woman in an Iowa village, who +kept a boarding house for railway men, and had reared a large family, +not one of whom (Spruce was accustomed to explain in moments of +expansion, on pay-day, when his heart had been warmed with good red +liquor) had ever been to jail. Spruce had never seen this estimable +woman, but he felt on terms of intimacy with her because, occasionally, +on these same pay-days, he would mail her a five-dollar bank-note, the +receipt of which was always promptly acknowledged by a niece who could +spell most of her words correctly and who always thanked him for his +"kind and welcome gift," told him what they proposed to do with the +money, and invited him to come to see them. + +He always meant to go, although he never did go. It was his favorite +air-castle, being able to go on furlough to the village where his aunt +lived and show his medal. He had won the medal in an Indian fight where +he had rescued his captain. The captain died of his wounds and Spruce +never got drunk (which I regret to confess he did oftener than was good +either for his soul or the service) that he didn't talk about his +captain, who had been his hero; and cry over him. Spruce, who was a +cheery creature in his normal state, always developed sentiment and +pathos when he was revealed by liquor. Now he had another day-dream. It +was to be greeted by the cheering crowds--again he would march down the +sunny streets with the band playing, amid the faces and the shouts. And +the men who had stood by the company so stanchly would be pointing him +out and telling each other his mythical exploits--and adding the record +of his Indian exploits--which Spruce felt that an inattentive country +had not appreciated. A dozen times a day he pictured the scene, he +mentally listened to the talk--he, walking with a rigid and unseeing +military mien. He approximated the number of glasses a man could take +without even grazing indecorum--for he was determined he would not be +riotous in his joy--and he used to whistle the refrain of a convivial +song: + + Enj'y yourselves, enj'y yourselves + But don't do no disgrace! + +Meanwhile, his consciousness of in some way caring for the whole company +held him a model of sobriety. In fact, he did take care of the company, +secretly instructing the captain in the delicacies of military etiquette +and primitive sanitary conditions, and openly showing the commissary +sergeant how to make requisitions and barter his superfluous rations for +acceptable canned goods at the groceries of the town. He explained all +the regulars' artless devices for being comfortable; he mended the boys' +morals and their blouses in the same breath; and he inculcated all the +regular traditions and superstitions. But it is to be confessed again, +that while Spruce was living laboriously up to his lights of +righteousness under this new stimulus, the lights were rather dim; and, +in particular, as regards the duty of a man to pick up outlying portable +property for his company--they would have shocked a police magistrate. +Neither did he rank among the martial virtues the ornament of a meek and +quiet spirit. "A good captain is always a kicker," says Spruce firmly; +"he's got to be. Look at this here camp, Captain; the mess tent's all +under water; we're standing in the slush every damned meal we eat. +Water's under our tent, water--" + +"I know, I know, Sergeant," interrupts the perplexed and worried young +captain, a clever young dandy bright enough to be willing to take wisdom +without shoulder straps; "I've been to the colonel; he agrees with me, +and he's been to Major Green, and that's all comes of it. I don't see +what I can do further, if I did--" + +"Begging your pardon, Captain, the men will be falling sick soon and +dying. They're weakened by the climate and being fretted, expecting +always to git off and never going." + +"But what can I do? Oh, speak out, we're off here alone. Have you any +idea?" + +"Well, sir, if you was my captain in the old --th, you'd say to the +colonel, 'Colonel, I've remonstrated and remonstrated. Now I'm +desperate. I'm desperate,' says you. 'If there ain't something done +to-morrow I'm going to march my company out and find a new camp, and you +kin court-martial me if you please. I'd rather stand a court-martial +than see my men die!' He'd talk real pleasant at first, so as to git in +all his facts, and then he'd blaze away. And he'd do it, too, if they +didn't listen." + +The captain gave the sergeant a keen glance. "And that's your notion of +discipline?" said he. + +"There's a newspaper fellow asking for you, Captain, this morning. I see +him a-coming now," was the sergeant's oblique response. But he chuckled, +walking stiffly away, "He'll do it; I bet we won't be here two days +longer." For which glee there was reason, since, inside the hour, the +captain was in the colonel's tent, concluding an eloquent picture of his +company's discomforts with "Somebody has to do something. If you are +powerless, Colonel, I'm not. If they don't give some assurance of +changing the camp to-morrow I shall march Company G out and pitch a camp +myself, and stand a court-martial. I would rather risk a court-martial +than see my men die--and that's what it has come to!" + +The colonel looked the fiery young speaker sternly in the eye, and said +something about unsoldierly conduct. + +"It would be unmanly conduct for me to let the boys trusted to me die, +because I was afraid to speak out," flung back the captain. "And I know +one thing: if I am court-martialed the papers are likely to get the true +story." + +"You mean the reporter on the Chicago papers who is snooping around? Let +me advise you to give him a wide berth." + +"I mean nothing of the kind, sir. I only mean that the thing will not be +done in a corner." + +"Well, well, keep cool, Captain, you're too good a fellow to fling +yourself away. Wait and see if I can't get something definite out of the +major to-day." + +Whereupon the captain departed with outward decent gloom and inward +premonitions of rejoicing, for when he had hit a nail on the head he had +eyes to see. And the colonel betook himself, hot-foot, to the pompous +old soldier in charge of the camp, who happened to be a man of fixed +belief in himself, but, if he feared anything, was afraid of a newspaper +reporter. The colonel gave him the facts, sparing no squalid detail; +indeed, adding a few picturesque embellishments from his own +observations. He cut short the other's contemptuous criticism of boy +soldiers, and his comparison with the hardships endured during the Civil +War, with a curt "I know they fooled away men's lives then; that is no +reason we should fool them away now. The men are sickening to-day--they +will be dying to-morrow; I'm desperate. If that camp is not changed by +to-morrow I shall march my regiment out myself and pitch my own camp, +and you may court-martial me for it if you like. I would rather stand a +court-martial than see my men die, because I was afraid to speak out! +The camp we have now is murder, as the reporters say! I don't wonder +that young fellow from Chicago talks hard!" + +"You're excited, Colonel; you forget yourself." + +"I _am_ excited, Major; I'm desperate! Will you walk round the camp with +me?" + +The end of the colloquy was that the captain saw the major and the +colonel and told the first-lieutenant, who told, the first-sergeant, +whose name was Spruce. "Captain's kicked to the colonel, I guess," says +Spruce, "and colonel's kicked to the major. That's the talk. Git ready, +boys, and pack." True enough, the camp was moved the very next day. + +"I guess captain will make an officer if he lives and don't git the big +head," Spruce moralized. "It's mighty prevalent in the volunteers." + +The captain wrote the whole account home to one single confidant--his +father--and him he swore to secrecy. The captain's father was the man +who had committed Company G to Spruce's good offices. He sent a check to +the company and a special box of cigars to Spruce. And Spruce, knowing +nothing of the intermediary, felt a more brilliant pride in his adopted +town, and bragged of its virtues more vehemently than ever. The camp was +not moved soon enough. Pneumonia and typhoid fever appeared. One by one +the boys of the regiment sickened. Presently one by one they began to +die. + +Then Spruce suggested to the captain: "I guess I'd be more good in the +hospital than I am here, Captain." And the captain (who was scared, poor +lad, and had visions of the boys' mothers demanding the wasted lives of +their sons at his hands) had his best sergeant put on the sick detail. +If Spruce had been useful in camp he was invaluable in hospital. The +head surgeon leaned on him, with a jest, and the young surgeon in charge +with pretense of abuse. "You'll burst if you don't work off your steam, +Spruce, so out with it. What is it _now_?" In this fashion he really +sought both information and suggestion. Nor was he above being +instructed in the innumerable delicacies of requisitions by the old +regular, and he did not, when requisitions were unanswered and supplies +appeared in unusual form, ask any embarrassing questions. "I get 'em +from the Red Cross, sir," was Spruce's invariable and unquestioned +formula. + +And the doctor in his reports accounted for what he had received and +complained lustily because his requisitions were not honored, even as +Spruce had desired, and, thereby, he obtained much credit, in the days +to come. Spruce did not obtain any particular credit, but he saved a few +lives, it is likely; and the sick men found him better than medicine. +The captain always handed the committee letters over to him; and bought +whatever he desired. + +"Captain's going to distinguish himself, give him a chance," thought +Spruce, "he's got _sense_!" + +And by degrees he began to feel for the young volunteer a reflection of +the worship which had secretly been offered to a certain fat little +bald-headed captain of the old --steenth. His picture of the great day +when he should have his triumph--quite as dear to him, perhaps, as any +Roman general's to the Roman--now always included a vision of the +captain, slender and straight and bright-eyed, at the head of the line; +and he always could see the captain, later in the day, presenting him to +his father; "Here's Sergeant Spruce, who has coached us all!" He had +overheard those very words once said to a girl visiting the camp, and +they clung to his memory with the persistent sweetness of the odor of +violets. + +To-day he was thinking much more of the captain than of young Danvers, +though Danvers ranked next in his good will. Danvers was a college lad +who had begged and blustered his mother into letting him go. He would +not let her know how ill he was, but had the captain write to his +married sister, in the same town but not the same house. She, in sore +perplexity, wrote to both the captain and Spruce and kept her trunk +packed, expecting a telegram. Danvers used to talk of her and of his +mother and of his little nephews and nieces to Spruce, at first in mere +broken sentences--this was when he was so ill they expected that he +might die any day--later in little happy snatches of reminiscence. He +was perfectly aware that he owed his life to Spruce's nursing; and he +gave Spruce the same admiration which he had used to give the great man +who commanded the university football team. The social hiatus between +them closed up insensibly, as it always does between men who are in +danger and suffering together. Danvers knew Spruce's footfall and his +thin face would lighten with a smile whenever the sergeant came in +sight. He liked the strong, soft touch of his hand, the soothing cadence +of his voice; he felt a gratitude which he was too boyish to express for +the comfort of Spruce's baths and rubbings and cheerfulness. The other +sick lads had a touch of the same feeling for the sergeant. As he passed +from cot to cot, even the sickest man could make some little sign of +relief at his return. + +Spruce's heart, a simple and tender affair, as a soldier's is, oftener +than people know, swelled within him, not for the first time. + +"Well, I guess I done right to come here," thought he, "and I guess all +the G boys will be out of the woods this week, and then I don't care how +soon we git our orders." + +Danvers stopped him when he returned. "I want to speak to you, Chris," +he next said, and a new note in his voice turned Spruce about abruptly. + +"What's the matter, Dick?" + +"Oh, nothing, I only wanted to be sure you'd come back and say good-by +before you got off. The regiment's got its orders, you know?" + +"_No!_" cried Spruce. He swallowed a little gasp. "What are you giving +me?" + +"Oh, it's straight; I heard them talking. Colonel has the order; the +boys are packing to-day." + +Spruce's eyes burned, he was minded to make some exclamations of profane +joy, but his mood fell at the sight of the boy's quivering smile. + +"Great, isn't it?" said Danvers. "I wish they'd waited two weeks and +given us fellows a show, but I dare say there won't be any show by that +time, the way they are after the dons at Santiago. Can't you get off +now, to pack? But--you'll be sure to come back and say good-by, Chris!" + +"I ain't off yet," said Spruce, "and I ain't too sure I will be. +They're always gitting orders and making an everlasting hustle to pack +up, and then unpacking. You go to sleep." + +He was about to move away, but Danvers detained him, saying that he +wanted to be turned; and as the soldier gently turned him, the boy got +one of his hands and gave it a squeeze. He tried to say something, but +was barely able to give Spruce a foolish smile. "Spruce, you're a +soldier and a gentleman!" he stammered. He turned away his head to hide +the tears in his eyes. But Spruce had seen them. Of course he made no +sign, stepping away briskly, with a little pat on the lean shoulder. + +He came back softly in a little while. He looked at Danvers, who was +simulating sleep, with his dark lashes fallen over red eyelids, and he +shook his head. During his absence he had found that the orders were no +rumor. The regiment was going to Porto Rico sure enough. Spruce stood a +moment, before he sat down by Danvers' side. But he barely was seated +ere he was on his feet again, in a nervous irritation which none had +ever seen in Spruce. He walked to the door of the tent and gazed, in the +same attitude that the nurse had gazed, an hour earlier, at the low, +white streets. Two great buzzards were flying low against the hot, +cloudless vault of blue. + +"Them boys'll be all broke up if I go!" said Spruce. + +He frowned and fidgeted. In fact, he displayed every symptom of a man +struggling with a fit of furious temper. What really was buffeting +Spruce's soul was not, however, anger, it was the temptation of his +life. Spruce had known few temptations; at least, he had recognized few. +His morality was the lenient, rough-hewn article which satisfies a +soldier's conscience. He had no squeamishness about the sins outside his +limited category; he fell into them blithely and had no remorse when he +remembered them, wherefore he preserved a certain incongruous innocence +even in his vices, as has happened to many a man before. It is, perhaps, +the moral nature's own defense; and keeps untouched and ever fresh +little nooks and corners of a sinner's soul, into which the conscience +may retreat and from which sometimes she sallies forth to conquer the +abandoned territory. What Spruce called his duty he had done quite as a +matter of course. He had not wavered any more than he wavered when the +war bonnets were swooping down on his old captain's crumpled-up form. +But this--this was different. The boys needed him. But if he stayed with +the boys, there was the regiment and the company and the captain and the +chance to distinguish himself and march back in glory to his town. + +"I guess most folks would say I'd _ought_ to follow the colors," he +thought; "raw fellers like them, they need a steady, old hand. Well, +they've got Bates." (Bates was an old regular, also, of less +enterprising genius than Spruce, but an admirable soldier.) "I +s'pose,"--grudgingly--"that Bates would keep 'em steady. And captain can +fight, and the colonel was a West Point man, though he's been out of the +army ten years, fooling with the millish. I guess they don't need me so +awful bad this week; and these 'ere boys--Oh, damn it all!" He walked +out of the tent. There was a little group about a wagon, at which he +frowned and sighed. "Poor Maxwell!" he said. Then he tossed his head and +stamped his foot. "Oh, damn it all!" said he again, between his teeth. + +But his face and manner were back on their old level of good cheer when +he bent over Danvers, half an hour later. + +"Sa--y! Dick!" + +"Yes, Chris. You come to say good-by! Well, it's good luck to you and +God bless you from every boy here; and we know what you've done for us, +and we won't forget it; and we'll all hurry up to get well and join +you!" Danvers' voice was steady enough now and a pathetic effort at a +cheer came from all the cots. + +Spruce lifted his fist and shook it severely. "You shut up! All of you! +You'll raise your temperature! I ain't going, neither. Be quiet. It's +all settled. I've seen captain, and he wants me to stay and see you boys +through; all the G boys. Then we're all going together. I tell you, keep +quiet." + +Dick Danvers was keeping quiet enough, for one; he was wiping away the +tears that rolled down his cheeks. + +The others in general shared his relief in greater or less measure; but +they were too ill to think much about anything except themselves. In +some way, however, every one in the tent showed to Spruce that he felt +that a sacrifice had been made. + +"I know you hated it like the devil, and just stayed for fear some of +your precious chickens would come to mischief if they got from under +your wings, you old hen!" was Dick's tribute; "and I know why you went +into town yesterday when the boys went off. It _is_ rough, Chris, and +that's the truth!" + +"Oh, it's only putting things off a bit; the captain told me so +himself," said Spruce, very light and airy. But his heart was sore. The +G boys understood; he wasn't so sure that all the others did understand. +He caught his name on one gossiping group's lips, and was conscious that +they gazed after him curiously. "Wonder if I'm scared that I stayed +home, I guess," he muttered, being a sensitive fellow like all vain men. +"I wish they'd see the things I've been in! Damn 'em!" + +The men really were discussing his various Indian experiences and +admiring him in their boyish hearts. But he was unluckily out of +earshot. Unluckily, also, he was not out of earshot when a lieutenant of +another regiment who had had a difference about a right of way with +Spruce's captain and been worsted by Spruce's knowledge of military +traditions freed his mind about that "bumptious regular who was so keen +to fight, but (he noticed) was hanging on to his sick detail, now the +regiment had a chance to see a few Spaniards." Spruce, in his properly +buttoned uniform, his face red with the heat and something of the words, +saluted rigorously and passed by, not a single muscle twitching. All the +while he was thinking: "I'm glad he don't belong to _my_ town! God! If +anybody was to write them things about me!" + +By this time the town was not only his town, but he was sure that he was +a figure in the conversation of the place. Thus his anxiety of mind +increased daily. He kept it from his charges, who grew stronger all the +week, and the next; and he read such papers as drifted out to the camp +and such shreds of news about the fighting with frantic interest. +Danvers was able to sit up at the end of three weeks, but most of the +boys were further along, walking about the wards, or gone back to their +regiment. + +"You get out, Chris," said Danvers, "we all know you're on your head +with aching to go. _We're_ all right; and I'm off home on furlough +to-morrow; I'll get straightened out there quicker, and I'll be after +you next week, see if I don't! I knew you'd be hanging on, so I won't +give you the excuse. My sister's coming to-morrow." + +"Really, Dick," gasped Spruce, "and you--you're sure the other boys are +so's I can leave?" + +"Well, you know there are going to be some women from the Red Cross, +last of the week--Oh, by the time we are all out of it, this will be a +swell hospital, with all the luxuries! Spruce, go, and don't get hurt, +or I'll murder you!" + +Spruce giggled like a happy girl. He was on his way to put in his +application to join his regiment the next day--after Dick Danvers' +sister had arrived, when something happened. He did not exactly know +what it was himself, until he felt the water on his forehead and tried +to lift himself up from the sand, catching the arm of the +surgeon-in-chief. "Sunstroke, doctor?" he whispered. + +"Just fainted," the surgeon answered cheerfully, "you've been overdoing +it in this heat. Be careful." + +"Oh, it's nothing, sir," Spruce grinned back; "had it lots of times, +only not so bad. All the boys git giddy heads--" + +Somehow the ready words faltered off his tongue; the surgeon had been +fumbling at his blouse, under the pretext of opening it for air, he was +looking in a queer, intent way at Spruce's chest. + +Of a sudden the eyes of doctor and soldier, who had been nurse, met and +challenged each other. There was a dumb terror in the soldier's eyes, a +grave pity in the surgeon's. "I seen them spots yesterday," said Spruce, +slowly, in a toneless voice, "but I wouldn't believe they was typhoid +spots, nor they _ain't_!" + +"You get inside and get a drink, Spruce, and go to bed," said the +doctor. "Of course, I'm not certain, but as good a nurse as you knows +that it isn't safe to try to bluff typhoid fever." + +By this time Spruce was on his feet, able to salute with his reply: +"That's all right, Major, but--I got to keep up till Danvers gits off +with his folks, or he'd be kicking and want to stay. Jest let me see him +off, and I'll go straight to bed." + +"No walking about, mind, though," said the doctor, not well pleased, yet +knowing enough of the two men to perceive the point of the argument. + +Spruce saw Danvers off, with a joke and a grin, and an awkward bow for +Danvers' sister. Then he went back to the hospital and went to bed, +having written his aunt's address on a prescription pad (one of his +acquirements in his foraging trips) with a remarkably spelled request +that his pay be sent her, and his other property be given his friend, R. +E. Danvers, to divide among his friends, giving the captain first +choice. + +"Lots of folks die of typhoid fever," he remarked quite easily, "and it +don't hurt to be ready. I feel like I was in for a bad time, and I ain't +stuck on the nursing here a little bit." + +Before the week was out he recognized as well as the doctors that he was +a very sick man. + +"If you'd only gone off with your regiment three weeks ago," the doctor +growled one day, "you'd have missed this, Spruce." + +"That's all right," said Spruce, "but some of the boys are home that +wouldn't be, maybe. I guess it's all right. Only, you know captain and +Danvers; I wish you'd write back to the old town and tell the committee +I done my duty. I can't be a credit to the company, but I done my duty, +though I expect there's folks in town may think I was malingering." + +"Stop talking!" commanded the doctor. "Did you know the women are coming +to-morrow; you are to have a nurse of your own here?" + +"Time," said Spruce; "if my town had its way they'd been here long ago. +Ever been in my town, Major?" + +"No. Good-by, Spruce; keep quiet." + +"It's the bulliest town in the country, and the prettiest. And when G +company goes back--Oh, Lord, I won't be with 'em!" + +The surgeon's hand on his shoulder prevented the movement which he would +have made, and he apologized; "I didn't mean to do that! Moving's so +bad. Tell you, I'd a time keeping the boys still; they _would_ turn when +they got a little off. Say, I got to talk, Major, something's broke +loose in me and I _got_ to talk. I don't want to, I just got to." + +When the nurse came he was so light-headed as to have no control of his +words, yet quite able to recognize her and welcome her with an +apologetic politeness. + +"I'd have had some lemonade for you if I'd been up myself, ma'am. We're +glad to see you. All the G boys are convalescing; most of 'em's gone. We +all come from the same city; it's an awful pretty town. I got a lot of +friends there that maybe don't take it in why I'm here 'stead of with my +regiment, with the old man. I got a good reason; only I can't remember +it now." + + * * * * * + +The captain's father stood outside the telegraph office in Spruce's +town. Beside him was the chairman of the relief committee. + +"Too bad about that regular," said the chairman. "Spruce--isn't that his +name? One of the boys telegraphed he couldn't live through the day. +Better have him brought here for the funeral, I guess; he's been very +faithful. Young Danvers wanted to go right down to Florida; but he had a +relapse after he got home and he's flat on his back." + +"I heard," said the captain's father; "I've just telegraphed, on my own +responsibility, for them to send him here. It won't make any difference +to him, poor fellow; but we owe it to him. I wish we could do something +that would help him, but I don't see anything." + +"We have told them to spare no expense, and he's got plenty of money. +No, you have done everything. Well, good-by; remember me to the captain; +we're all proud of him." + +The captain's father thanked him with rather an absent air. "I wish we +could do something for that fellow," he was thinking; "I don't suppose a +message to him would--when a fellow's dying, messages are nonsense--it's +a bit of sentiment--I don't care, I'll do it!" He turned and went back +into the office. + + * * * * * + +"I am afraid there is not a chance," said the doctor; "too bad, he was a +good fellow. Well, you can give him all the morphine he needs--and +strychnine, though he's past strychnine, I fear; morphine's the one +chance, and that's mighty little." + +"He talked about wanting to see you," said the nurse. She had a sweet +voice, plainly a lady's voice; and her slim figure, in the blue-striped +gown and white surplice, had a lady's grace. Her face was not handsome, +nor was it very young, but it had a touch of her voice's sweetness. The +doctor found himself glad to look at her; and forgetting his patients in +his interest in the nurse. + +"Oh, yes,"--he roused himself--"I'll look 'round later; I suppose he is +delirious?" + +"Not so much that he does not recognize us. He talks all the time of his +town, poor fellow, and seems to want to have them understand that he +hasn't neglected his duty. He only once has spoken of any relations. +It's all the town, and the captain and Danvers making it right there; +and the boys going back--I suppose he has lived there all his life +and--" + +"Not a bit of it; Danvers told me he merely enlisted from there. But +they are making a great time over him. Telegraphed to have his body sent +there; and here's another telegram. See--" + +"I'll let him see," said the nurse, taking it, "may I, Doctor?" + +"Yes, but not the first part about sending him back; that's a little too +previous." + +The nurse's touch roused Spruce. "Dick," he murmured, "Dick, you tell +the folks. I couldn't go with the regiment--you know why." + +"They know why, too; here's a telegram from your captain's father: 'Tell +Spruce he's the hero of Company G.'" + +"Read it again!" + +She read it. His hand tightened on hers. Her trained eyes were on his +face. + +"Ain't it the--the _bulliest_ town! I wisht I'd enough money to go back; +but you see my folks got to have my pay. But I wisht--" + +Her eyes, not the nurse's now, but a woman's, sought the doctor's in a +glance of question and appeal. He nodded. + +Her sweet voice said: "And the town has telegraphed that no expense must +be spared to cure you; but if you don't recover you are to go back to +them." + +Spruce drew a long, ecstatic sigh. "Oh--didn't I tell you? Ain't it the +bulliest town!" + +A minute later he murmured, "Thank you, Dick," and, still holding the +nurse's hand, Spruce went to see his town. + + + + +A MIRACLE PLAY + + +The widow Darter's house was set on a hill. It was a story-and-a-half +cottage, of stucco, to which sun and wind and frost had offered their +kind offices, mellowing pleasantly its original glare of white. In +summer a trumpet-vine draped the ugly little piazza which Emmy's +"art-needle work" had helped build, and which she and her mother admired +with simple hearts. The big burr oak and the maples hid the house from +the road, but the grassy knoll in front of the house was bare, and from +this vantage-ground one could see the shallow curve of whitish-brown +where the village street climbed the hill, the chimneys of the houses +below, and, afar off, the trains roaring through the prairies. All the +village was interested in the railway, but Emmy had an especial and +intimate interest because her sweetheart was the local agent. He had +been her sweetheart during five years, in any one of which he would have +been proud and glad to marry her; yet this was the fifth year of their +betrothal, and Emmy was drearily reflecting that they were no nearer the +chance to spend their lives together the fifth than the first. + +Emmy was hanging out clothes. It was four o'clock in the afternoon, but +she had just brought out the large basket and was pinning the garments +to the line, while Virginia, her sister, a little girl in short skirts +and a blue checked apron, helped with the less cumbrous stockings and +handkerchiefs. The child was pretty. She had a fresh color and curly +yellow hair. Emmy's hair was black, and twisted in a braid about a +shapely head. It shone like silk. But her eyes were gray, soft, and +liquid. She was slender, with a youthful litheness in her motions, and +her white arms flashed as they moved backward and forward in her work. +The sleeves of her blue gown were rolled up; the gown itself was plainly +her work-a-day garb, but there was a white lawn tie at her neck and the +gown was both neat and becoming; in short, she was an attractive little +creature who did not neglect her looks even of a wash-day. + +The widow Darter sat on the piazza in a large rocking-chair. She rocked. +As she rocked, she moaned piteously. At intervals she changed the +sibilant moan into a hollow groaning sound. "Oh dear! _Oh_ dear! Oh +dear, oh dear, oh dear!" wailed the widow. "Um-m! um-m! um-m-m-m!" + +The little girl flung a frown of impatience over her shoulder. "I don't +see why mamma makes such an _awful_ racket!" she snapped. + +"She suffers," said Emmy. + +"Well, she needn't holler so if she does," cried Virginia, rebelliously. +"I know she wouldn't let _me_ holler when I stubbed my toe. It hurt +awful, too!" + +Emmy said nothing. + +"Say, are you going to the picnic with Bert to-morrow afternoon?" said +the child. + +"No, Jinny, I don't see how I can. Mother's so sick." + +"Well, I told Bert I was willing to take care of mamma; and he said he'd +buy me a new doll if I would. I guess he wants you to go awful." + +"Oh-h dear! Oh-h dear!" droned the sufferer on the piazza. + +"Well, I can't," said Emmy. "I wish you'd run and ask mother if she +wants anything." + +"She don't; she's been going on that way all the afternoon." But Jinny +granted the request after the easy-going manner of her age; she turned +on her heel and sent a shout at her mother--"Say, mamma! you want +anything?" + +Mrs. Darter shook her head. The din of woe swelled in volume. + +"I s'pose she wants you to read to her; she says I don't read with +expression," said the little girl. "But we're all read out; you put off +the washing to read the end of _A Romance of Two Worlds_, and we've got +to wait until No. 9 comes in! Albert said he'd sent for a whooping big +pile of books from Davenport; you can get 'em at the dry-goods stores +for five cents a book. And Mrs. Conner'll bring them up, won't she, when +she comes? She's got to go for her boarder." Emmy nodded. Mrs. Darter +groaned more softly, a sign that she was distracted by something from +her own griefs of mind or body. Jinny chattered on. "Miss Ann Bigelow +told me Mrs. Conner's going to have a girl from the University of +Chicago for a boarder this time, but she's only coming for a week. Sibyl +Edmunds knows her well. And, Emmy, she takes pictures, and she's going +to bring her camera." + +"Emmy! _Emmy!_ there comes Mrs. Conner!" screamed her mother. + +Her words were accompanied by the vision of a white horse and an ancient +phaeton (which had been newly washed for the occasion) just beyond the +lilac-bushes at the gate. Mrs. Conner's comely presence filled the +better part of the seat, but the eyes of all the Darters traveled at +once to the slim girl in gray covert-cloth who sat beside her. The girl +looked like hundreds of rather pretty American girls, with gray eyes and +brown hair and dimples in their cheeks. She was pretty as youth and +cheerfulness and dainty clothes are always pretty, but Emmy's gaze dwelt +on her with reverence. "That's a camera she's holding--in that box," she +said in a low tone to Jinny, "she's the girl that got the scholarship." +Emmy sighed. + +Mrs. Conner had stopped the horse. She responded to Emmy's greeting by +presenting her to the girl in gray. "Miss Doris Keith; she's going to +the Chicago University. She knows Sibyl." Then she fished out a package +from the luggage heaped at their feet. "Here's the books. That your ma +on the piazza?" + +As if in response, a few hollow moans floated from the rocking-chair. + +"She seems in great pain," said Miss Keith, sympathetically. + +Emmy's fair skin reddened painfully. "No, she--she isn't well," she +stammered. + +Mrs. Conner coughed a dry, inexpressive cough. + +"I do wish you would step in and see mother for a minute," Emmy begged, +as much with her eyes as with her voice. "I can hitch the horse if Miss +Keith minds--" + +But Miss Keith did not mind; she was quite willing to hold the horse. +And the horse sagging his elderly head, appeared of no mind to move, +whether "held" or no. + +"Well?" said Mrs. Conner, when they were out of earshot. + +"Mother thinks she is threatened with pleurisy, and she is trying the +starvation cure," answered Emmy. "She hasn't eaten a bite since +yesterday. I'm ashamed to be so late about my washing, but I've been +cooking things all day, trying to tempt her--" + +"Oh dear! Oh dear! Oh _dear_!" moaned the figure on the piazza. + +Mrs. Conner put her arms akimbo. She looked steadfastly at the swaying +and moaning shape. Mrs. Conner was a woman who had been known to fry +fresh griddle-cakes for tramps. She drew in her breath and exhaled it +explosively, as one that has been shocked out of speech. + +"I've made her postum cereal coffee and cooked her granum, and I went +out and begged dewberries from the Bigelows--she used to be fond of +them--and I don't know how many times I've made toast. She says I just +torment her." + +"Won't she drink a little beef tea?" + +"Oh-h! Oh-h! U-r-r-r! _Ug-h-h-h!_" shuddered the invalid. + +"Didn't you know she thinks meat wicked? And milk's robbing the cow, and +eggs robbing the hen, who wants to have a family as much as we do," said +Emily, rather incorrectly. + +"More'n some of us do, I guess," retorted Mrs. Conner, "and more'n folks +_ought_ to if they ain't prepared to do their duty by them when they've +got 'em." She launched a fiery glance at Mrs. Darter, who was now +groaning vehemently. "Got it all turned on this afternoon, ain't she?" + +"Dr. Abbie Cruller told her that it wasn't natural to suppress +ourselves. If you feel like groaning you ought to groan--" + +"And she eats sech queer stuff she's hungry most of the time," Mrs. +Conner interrupted, "so I expect she groans a lot. Say, Emmy, have you +ever had anybody come in and give your ma a good hard--_blowing up_?" + +The blood rushed to Emmy's face; her eyes sank. She answered, in a +confused tone: "Aunt Lida Glenn was over yesterday. I don't know what +she said to mother, but mother--mother told me the one thing she wanted +on earth was to have me--send Albert away and have everything ended +between us, for she never was so insulted in her life as she had been by +Albert's mother." + +"Albert's mother ain't Albert; though I don't blame her, Emmy, and Mrs. +Glenn is a awful nice woman. But it ain't fair to hold Albert for her +opinions, right or wrong. As I said, she ain't Albert, nor Albert ain't +her." + +"So I told mother," said Emmy. "I did hate to be disrespectful to her, +but I told her so; and she answered that Mrs. Glenn said Albert thought +so too. Then when I tried to question her she was in so much pain and +groaned so I hadn't the heart to bother her. She let me put hot cloths +on her, and give her a Turkish bath over the alcohol-lamp; and I hoped +she'd let me make her some water gruel, but she wouldn't touch a +spoonful. Mrs. Conner, you don't suppose she--she will keep it up much +longer?" Emmy's eyes dilated with an unspoken fear as she lifted them to +the kind woman before her. "She said she felt herself growing weaker +this morning. I--I told her I wouldn't go to the picnic with Bert, if +she would only eat something. But she said that she couldn't eat +anything. One time--one time she went three days. I didn't let the +neighbors know; but I was 'most crazy, and poor little Jinny cried. She +isn't one to cry, either." + +"No," Mrs. Conner agreed, glancing at Jinny who was chattering volubly +with the girl in the phaeton--"no, I'd say she'd be more likely to be +sassy." + +"I'm afraid she was that, too," suggested Emmy, with a dim smile, "but +at last she got scared. It was some new books Bert brought, got mother +out of that time; she was so anxious to read them." + +"Yes, I know your ma's a great reader. Always was. She told me she +fairly revelled in stories of high life and detective stories. She said +she'd read every one of The Duchess's books--I guess 'twas a hundred. +And she said many and many a night she'd set up in bed reading half the +night. 'It's so resting,' she says, 'to read 'bout murders and how they +are tracked down.' It took up her mind from her sorrers, she says. And +she told me she didn't know how she'd ever lived through losing your pa +but for _Sherlock Holmes_. If I was you I'd jest try to stir her up with +these books. I'll fetch 'em to her. I read the one of Ouida's and it's +real good--and, come to think of it, brimful of eating. Who knows but +it'll git her to wanting to eat herself. Why, when I think what kind of +cook she was, it don't seem possible! But now don't you worry, Emmy; +she'll come all right and she'll come all right 'bout Mrs. Glenn, good +friends as they've always been. Why, she always has liked Lida Glenn +better than all her other friends together! She'll _have_ to make up. +Don't you fret a bit." She said the words in a hearty voice, and she +strode vigorously across the grass to the piazza and presented her +package with a breezy cheer. "Here's two new books by Ouida, and one by +Bertha M. Clay, and two by Maria Corelly, Mrs. Darter; and Emmy'll be +ready to read them to you soon." + +Mrs. Darter had a delicate pale face, much like Emmy's in features, but +etched with tiny wrinkles. The corners of her mouth dropped, and there +was a habitual frown of pain on her pretty forehead. She did not look +ungentle, only obstinate. + +"Thank you," she murmured. Then she sighed. + +Mrs. Conner opened her mouth, and shut it again, compressing the lips +with unnecessary firmness. + +Mrs. Darter laid her head back on her chair. She closed her eyes. A +plaintive, sibilant noise hissed through her parted lips. + +"Well, I'm real sorry you're sick," said Mrs. Connor, her voice again +full of good-nature. "I guess what you need is a little nourishing +food--" + +Mrs. Darter screamed, and Mrs. Conner stood aghast. She was more aghast +to behold all the apparent symptoms of a swoon in the invalid, and would +have run for water--an act, however, prevented by the timely opening of +Mrs. Darter's eyes. "Don't say the word!" she begged, shuddering. "I +have to starve off a pleurisy. It would _kill_ me! And the books are no +good; I'm too sick to hear reading. Oh dear! Oh dear! Oh dear!" + +Mrs. Conner backed off the piazza--she said she guessed she must go--and +left Mrs. Darter moaning and rocking. + +"And to tell you the truth, Miss Keith"--thus she ended a breathless +narration to her new boarder--"I went quick, for I knew I couldn't hold +in one minnit longer! And how'd it help poor Emmy to have her mother +quarrel with Lida Glenn and me the same day? There's Susy Baker making +eyes at Albert Glenn, this minnit; and if she ain't carrying Mrs. Glenn +some of her ma's blueberry cake! Right by the Darters, too; and Emmy +seeing her!" + +"What is the matter with Mrs. Darter?" + +"Well, old Dr. Potter says she's 'neurotic,' if you know what _that_ is. +I call it jest notions. What the doctors in my time called a hypo, +that's what she is! She's always been the greatest hand to dose. Mr. +Conner will have it she kep' old Captain Darter poor buying patent +medicines. And she run after every new cure-all going. It was +electricity one year, and 'nother year it was blue glass, and one time I +remember she had a woman come of the sort that used to call themselves +bone-doctors when I was a girl and this country wasn't much settled, but +now they're osteologists, or some sech funny name, and give out they can +rub everything on earth out of you. Mrs. Darter had _her_ for a long +spell, till she got pneumonia, and nigh died, and sickened of the +osteologist; and I give her mustard plasters, good strong ones, myself. +All this time Emmy was engaged to Albert Glenn; but the old captain was +real feeble, and Emmy wouldn't leave him to git married. I will say Mrs. +Darter was real devoted to him, though Emmy done all the night work and +spared her all she could, give up her school, and spent every cent of +the money she'd laid by school-teaching and working art embroidery for +her clothes, when she'd be married--spent every cent on her pa. Got him +a wheel chair, and if ever a man set the world by his daughter the +captain done it. He liked Albert, too. I guess if captain had lived, +sick's he was, he'd have found a way so's Emmy and Albert could git +married. But he died. Then you'd 'a' s'posed they could marry, for his +life was _well_ insured, and they got enough for the widder to be +comfortable and keep a girl. But the minnit he died poor Mrs. Darter +got nervous prostration, and she was a nervous prostrate for a year, +and they had to spend money traveling, and of course Emmy couldn't git +married. Mrs. Darter went to Hot Springs, Arkansas, and she went to a +sanitarium, and last she come home saying she was cured. But on the cars +she made the acquaintance of a woman--well, I don't want to jedge--jedge +not, and you won't git jedged, you know--and I know 'tis hard for a +woman to make a living, but I guess that woman was a crank, and a +designing one at that. But she went to Mrs. Darter's to board, and she +never paid no board, but she preached to Mrs. Darter 'bout how all the +diseases that we have come from eating wrong things; and she said we'd +got to live 'cording to nature more; and eating meat made folks fierce +like the carnivorous beasts, and things seasoned with salt was bad for +you, and jest plain farnishous foods without salt--like we was +_chickens_!--was best for us. I don't see how Mrs. Darter, who used to +cook real well and liked to have the sewing society to tea, could stand +sech sick stuff, but she did; and what's wuss, even after the fool +critter ran away and married a magnetic healer who, they do say, has +another wife, even to this day Abiel Darter believes in her and goes by +what she says. And she ain't et any fit food for so long that if she +ever does git coaxed to take a wholesome bite of beef or pie her +stummick is so weak of course she cayn't stand it. Strong folks can eat +strong vituals, and weak folks cayn't. Mrs. Glenn coaxed her in to a +boiled dinner one day, and poor Mrs. Darter nearly died of it. Now you +cayn't git her to budge from her grass and potato diet, as Conner calls +it. And as for poor Emmy, when she can git married Lord only knows!" + +Miss Keith had not interrupted the story by as much as a hum of assent. +She looked up with a queer smile. "Has Mrs. Darter ever tried Christian +Science?" + +"No, she ain't," snorted Mrs. Conner; "we've been spared _that_. The +Bigelow girls--they're two single ladies, real nice girls, too, who live +in that big brown house with a cupola and a hip-roof there, 'bout two +doors up--they tried to get her into that way of thinking; they're at +everybody. And they used to go over and set with her and give her +'silent treatment,' they called it, and try to think the dyspepsia out +of her; but one of 'em got a fish-bone in her throat and they had to +come to me to pull it out with a pair of tweezers. That sorter dampened +'em for a while and Mrs. Darter says, 'Why didn't you _think_ it out?' +And then Ann--she's the oldest--says they wasn't far enough advanced +yet, Mrs. Darter told 'em then they wasn't far enough advanced to doctor +_her_. And I guess they ain't been there sense." + +"All the same," insisted Miss Keith, smiling, "I think Mrs. Darter needs +mental healing or Christian Science, I don't care which." + + * * * * * + +Emmy put her mother to bed. She gave her the soothing drops which the +vanished but still reverenced healer had left--drops which she was +almost certain owed their potency to some alias of opium. In the morning +Mrs. Darter came out of her drugged sleep with a deadly nausea that +swathed her muscles and laid her rigid in its limp, devil-fish clutch. +The roof of her mouth was like leather; her head seemed to be pounded +with hammers; she was burning with fever, and malign twitchings and +itchings tormented her to rub her nose incessantly, when the least +motion was fearsome to her. She had much more cause than ordinary to +moan, and moan she did at every breath. Jinny had rushed away to a small +chum the moment the dishes for her own breakfast had been washed; but +Emmy couldn't run. She drank a cup of coffee; she had no heart to eat. +Jinny, however had eaten the dainty little meal that Emmy had +prepared--a forlorn hope to tempt the invalid. + +"Oh, my nose! my _nose_!" wailed Mrs. Darter. "Emmy, you've got to leave +off staring out of that window at the Glenns', and come and scratch my +nose! Ah-uh! Ah-u-h!" + +Emmy silently sat down by the bedside. If Albert passed the yard on his +wheel, as he did every morning at half-past seven, he would not find +her. Emmy had used no one knows how many devices to always be in the +yard when Albert passed, or, at least, in sight by a window. Bert used +to say that glimpse of Emmy "was a bracer for the whole day." Thursday +night was his night to visit her, but last night he hadn't come. + +"Emmy, you ain't any account at all as a scratcher!" fretted her mother. +"You scratch where it ain't itching, and you don't scratch where it +itches, and you're so mincing! Rub it _hard_! Oh-h! _why_ must I suffer +so? It's hard enough to have a ungrateful child without having your nose +itch!" + +Emmy adventured a sentence long lurking in her mind, but which she never +had the courage to push out into the air: "Mother, I think, I'm sure it +is the soothing drops which make your nose itch so. There's opium--" + +"There isn't a grain of opium in them," sobbed Mrs. Darter. "You know I +always hated opium or morphine or anything of the sort; and doctor told +me she wouldn't give the wicked drug. That's what Lida Glenn much as +told me; much as told me, too, that I was putting on and wasn't real +sick; and I told her--oh-h-h!--I told her--if she considered--_me_--that +sort of woman she must feel awful bad to--oh-h-h!--to have her only +child marry my daughter; and--I-thought--Oh-h! wuh-h-h! how awful sick I +am!" + +"You told Mrs. Glenn?" prompted Emmy, a flame in either cheek. + +"I told her that--sss! sss!--I thought the sooner that engagement was +broke the better it would be for--u-r-r-r!--all concerned--e-hee! ee-e! +ee-e-e-e! Oh my head! my head! Oh, I got to scratch my nose again. You +ain't rubbing the right place!" + +"And what did Mrs. Glenn say?" asked Emmy. A ripple ran over her face, +and she swallowed before she spoke. + +"She said you wouldn't give Albert up, real spiteful. Ah-rr-r! Oh, I +_am_ so sick! I said you would ruther than have your mother so +insulted--and if you don't I guess I'll give up trying to live. She was +so topping. Much as telling me it would be better for my own child if I +died. Oh dear! oh dear! oh dear! And Albert looked as cross last +night--" + +"Did Albert come last night?" + +"Yes, he did. You needn't jump out of the chair! I told him you wasn't +home, and you had gone out to the Collins spring. He said when would you +be home, and I said I didn't know. And he went off mad. Oh-h! oh-h-h! +Jinny says Carrie March says she saw him down-town riding on his bicycle +with Susan Baker. O-h-h-h-h! How can I talk when I'm so sick? Girls +don't know about young men. Bert wouldn't like you to see him sometimes, +be sure of that!" She paused to moan, and Emmy looked at her in a misery +of doubt. Was she telling the truth? It had come to that, since Mrs. +Darter had grown to take her soothing drops in every ailment--there was +no surety that she either saw things straight or told them straight. + +"I guess I'll go make you some coffee, mother," said Emmy; "you need +it." + +The girl's self-control was like tinder to the woman's fire. Mrs. Darter +flared out: "You needn't make any coffee. I won't drink it. What's more, +I won't eat one bite until you promise me to break with Bert Glenn--not +if I starve to death! If you're willing to let those Glenns insult me +and triumph over me, I ain't willing to live to see it." Her feeble +accents shrilled to a scream, as she flung out her arms with a +reminiscence of the behavior of her favorite heroines in novels. "Go, +Emmeline Darter, marry him if you dare; but you will pass to the altar +over your only mother's grave!" She had a confused sense that her syntax +had played her false and that she had not gotten the words precisely +right; but she covered any embarrassment by sinking back and moaning. + +Emmy looked at her with a mounting terror in her heart. She told herself +that it was impossible that her mother could carry out such a hideous +threat; but she knew that mucilaginous obstinacy which had not a place +firm enough for a reason to get a hold. "And she won't want to eat, +either," mused Emmy, wretchedly, "for that nasty medicine has made her +awful sick. She's got a fever now; that will burn away her strength. And +if it comes to a choice between letting my mother starve and giving up +Bert, I shall have to give him up!" + +Emmy sprang out of her chair. The thought was like a lash on a raw +wound. + +She ran to the window; it seemed to her that she couldn't breathe; and +her mother's whimpering irritated her past patience. She knew if she +spoke that she would let the bars down for her anger, and if she were +angry her mother would be upset physically, and grow so much worse that +she would feel like a murderer. She felt the goading of that furious +petulance which torments a woman often into sacrificing herself out of +very anger. It was on her tongue to say, "I'd rather die myself than +give up Bert, and you know it; and I'll never forgive you as long as I +live, but rather than see you die before my eyes I _will_ give him up." + +Neither to Emmy nor to her mother was there a doubt that any word passed +would be kept. Mrs. Darter, in the lost days of peace, before her +vagaries had corroded her affection, had said once, "Emmy never told me +a lie in her life, nor she never broke a promise she made me!" + +Emmy shut her lips tight and looked out of the window. Her troubled gaze +did not note the dewy freshness of the morning on turf and tree. The +houses were brown cottages for the most part, built in the lean period +of western rural architecture when a stunted cruciform effect and a +bescrolled piazza was the model for every village. But the ugly lines of +wood were veiled by a kindly wealth of wistarias and clematis royally +flaunting, by Virginia-creeper and trumpet-vines splashed with vermilion +and yellow; the grass was velvet, there was a gay company of geraniums +prospering in every garden; and below the hills and the tree-tops lay +the lovely, dimpled hill-sides, golden with wheat or shorn to a +varnished silver like nothing so much as the hue of shining flax, and +the waving fields of corn--all under a vault of burning blue, delicate, +tender, innocent, with no sumptuous and threatening richness of cloud +betokening storm, only high in the heavens the milky white cumuli, the +"harvest clouds." + +There were a thousand witcheries of light and shade, there was a radiant +lavishness of color; it was a landscape like a multitude all over the +Middle West, nevertheless a sight to make the heart beat the quicker for +sheer delight. But it might have been a stone wall for anything poor +Emmy, who loved each growing thing, saw in it this moment. To live +without Bert, perhaps to learn that Susy Baker had the love which she +would seem to have flung away--Emmy would have groaned if she had not +heard Mrs. Darter's piteous din, and thought grimly that her mother did +enough groaning for their small family! + +Yet at this very instant of despair a minister of grace was lifting the +latch of the Darter gate, and Emmy was unconsciously eying her. The +minister of grace was short of stature and very plump. She had a round, +fair, freckled face, which looked the rounder for its glittering +spectacles. Her hair was a yellowish gray, but she covered it with a +small white sailor hat. She wore a neat brown and white calico frock. To +escape the dew she held her skirts high; one could see that her +preference was for black alpaca slippers and white cotton stockings. The +minister's name was Miss Ann Bigelow. + +"Now _she_ comes to stir mother up worse!" thought Emmy. So blind are we +to the future. But she opened the door for Miss Ann Bigelow, and bade +her welcome, and proffered her the best rocking-chair in the parlor and +a palm-leaf fan. + +Miss Bigelow's countenance was beaming like an electric light. + +"I really _had_ to come!" she exclaimed so soon as she could take +breath. "Have you heard about Mrs. Conner spraining her ankle?" + +"Emmy, open the door!" moaned Mrs. Darter from within--her bed-room +adjoined the parlor. Emmy opened the door, while she said: "I'm so +sorry. When? How is she?" + +"Oh, she's all right now!" said Miss Bigelow. "It's wonderful--a real +miracle, I told sister. That's what I came to tell you. She sent over +for us, and there she lay, flat on the kitchen floor. I begun to treat +her in my mind the minute I saw her, for I saw she was in error. All her +word was: 'Send for a doctor; it's sprained, if it ain't broke!' I +didn't know what _to_ do. I didn't want to encourage her in error, and +yet you know we are _not_ advanced so far as sprains and broken bones, +and it is usual to summon a doctor; and I don't feel I'm advanced enough +myself to undertake serious cases; I'm too weak and timid, and I haven't +the spiritual vision. Emmy, does your mother _always_ groan that loud +way? Is she in pain? I mean, does she _think_ she is in pain?" + +"Yes'm," said Emmy; "but please go on; mother is listening." + +"Well, I stood there dazed, you may say; and just then in came Miss +Keith. She's a little slim thing, but _such_ eyes! They seem to look you +through and through! I'd have known she was a healer even if Mrs. Conner +hadn't told me the night before when she was over in our house. She +stood there, just simply looking at Mrs. Conner, not saying a word for a +minnit. Then she says in the _kindest_ voice--I can't tell you how soft +and kind her voice was!--she says, 'Have you the impression of great +pain, Mrs. Conner?' And Mrs. Conner--you know how--well abruptly--she +speaks, she said: '_Impression_ of pain? I only wish you had something +jabbing you like a hot iron, I guess you'd be _impressed_. Ain't +anybody going to take off my stocking? It's swelling every minnit!' Miss +Keith only looked at her, and lifted her hand for me and the girl to +keep still. I expect she was giving her silent treatment, for in a +moment or two she said: 'Well?' in such an inspiring, cheerful tone; and +Mrs. Conner said, 'Why, it's better!' surprised as could be; and I had +to clap my hands for joy. But Miss Keith told us both to go out for a +while and so we did. We waited half an hour by the clock, and that girl +was the most restless being you ever saw. I had all I could to keep her +quiet. Then the door opened--" Miss Bigelow made a wave of her plump +hands, indicating the opening of a door, and paused with hands and +voice. Mrs. Darter had ceased to groan. + +"What happened?" said Emmy. + +Miss Bigelow's hands met in a clap. "_Mrs. Conner came walking out with +Miss Keith, that's what happened!_" said she, in a low, solemn voice. + +"On her sprained ankle?" cried Mrs. Darter. + +"On her sprained ankle, her that couldn't move it without nearly +fainting for the pain. She said it hardly pained her at all; and she's +going right on with her preserving this minute. I said to sister it was +simply mirac'lus. I can't find a better word." + +"Maybe her ankle was not sprained so badly as she thought," Emmy +suggested. + +"Her face was white as a sheet," said Miss Bigelow; "and we all know +Mrs. Conner isn't one to cry before she's hurt, or make a fuss; and we +all know her prejudices about mental healing. She says she don't believe +a _bit_ more in it than she did, 'but,' says she, 'that girl's a wonder! +I wish,' says she, 'Mrs. Darter could have her.' I never lisped, but I +made up my mind to go and tell you right straight." + +"She couldn't do mother any good," said Emmy, wearily. At which Mrs. +Darter spoke for herself in a good, round voice of contradiction. "_Why_ +couldn't she? How much does she charge, Miss Ann?" + +"_Not one cent!_" replied Ann, with a thrill of triumph; "_if_ she'll +come, she'll come free; but I don't know whether she will come." + +"Emmy, you go and ask Mrs. Conner to ask her to come; ask Mrs. Conner to +come too," said Mrs. Darter, resuming her feeble voice. "I want to see +if that ankle _is_ cured. You'll stay with me, Miss Ann?" + +So, almost too quickly for her to realize the position, Emmy found +herself on her way to the Conners'. A fragrant odor wafted Mrs. Conner's +occupation through the open kitchen door before Emmy crossed the +threshold to behold her skimming a great kettle of plum jam. "Landy, +land! it's Emmy Darter already!" she cried, with a jolly laugh. "I +thought I could git that plum jam ready to take off before you'd come. I +knew it wouldn't be long when I saw Miss Ann Bigelow trotting across +lots. Your ma's sent for Miss Keith, I guess. Well, it's lucky Conner +has the hosses hitched in the wagon, and he can take us right over. I'll +call Hedwig to take off the jam, and Miss Keith--" + +"But, Mrs. Conner, please tell me about yourself," urged Emmy. "_Did_ +she cure you?" + +Mrs. Conner's left eyelid twitched in company with the left corner of +her shapely mouth. "You ask me no questions, Emmy, and I'll tell you no +lies; but you can make up your mind Miss Keith can cure your ma--if +she's _let_!" These orphic sentences were dropped with a slow and +ponderous nod of the head, and ceased at the entrance of Miss Keith. The +young lady looked very pretty in a crisp pink and white dimity frock +and a large white hat with pink roses. She had none of the airs of an +adept or a seer. There was nothing occult or intruding on the +imagination in her presence. She sat on the front seat beside Mr. Conner +and talked about cantaloupe melons. Mrs. Conner was amazingly silent; it +was plain, however, from no unkindly motives, since often she cast an +affectionate glance on Emmy, and, as the wagon stopped in front of the +Darter gate, she patted the girl's shoulder, saying: "It's all going to +come right, _I_ guess. Jest you mind us and keep still." + +Emmy's bewilderment deepened, but she said, "Yes'm," in her docile way, +and followed Mrs. Conner and Miss Keith down the walk, leaving Mr. +Conner to chuckle over some unknown mirth of his own, in the wagon. + +Mrs. Darter, so Miss Bigelow told them, had been dozing all the while +Emmy was gone. Her greeting to Miss Keith was a feeble moan. But on Miss +Keith's part there was an amazing transformation. She bent her brows +above eyes which shone out of them in a level, intent gaze. Emmy +recalled Miss Ann's description, and understood it with a thrill. For a +few seconds Miss Keith stood motionless, shedding that steady, +unblinking gaze at the drawn face on the pillow. Mrs. Darter appeared to +feel it through her eyelids; she winced, she ceased whimpering. Miss +Keith smiled gently. She spoke, and her voice was like silk. "You have +suffered very much!" + +Mrs. Darter opened her eyes; she gazed up at the eyes above her; her +chin quivered and two tears slowly ran down her cheeks--the first tears +seen on her cheeks during all her lamentations. "Oh, I have," she +murmured, "and nobody believes it--not my oldest friend, not my own +children!" + +"_I_ believe it," said the girl; "yet it is all a mistake." Without +turning her eyes, she made a little motion with her hands toward the +door, and instantly Miss Ann marshaled the others out of the room. Mrs. +Conner shut the door. + +In spite of herself, Emmy began to feel her nerves twitch with the +excitement and mystery. "Oh, Mrs. Conner," she entreated that stanch +friend, "is it possible she _can_ cure mother?" + +"Jest you keep quiet," said Mrs. Conner, "and set still. I'm going out +to the kitchen to heat this beef tea." For the first time, Emmy observed +that Mrs. Conner carried a glass jar insufficiently wrapped in +newspaper. Directly she was heard clattering among the saucepans. Miss +Ann stiffened into a rigid attitude, and her face assumed a rapt +expression. Emmy locked her fingers and sat still. At this moment she +was startled by a soft noise outside, and a young fellow pushed a +handsome, flushed face into the triangle between the window curtains and +beckoned with a look of entreaty. Emmy's heart jumped into her throat. +It was Albert. She didn't care whether he rode with Susan Baker or not; +it was Albert who loved her; she knew it. If she could only go out to +him! But Miss Ann shook her head and laid a mystic finger on her lips. +Emmy, too, laid a finger on her lips; but her finger trembled and her +eyes swam in tears. Albert stood passive and bewildered. The moments +dragged on. Really there were not so many of them; a scant half an hour +covered the flight of time; but to Emmy, uncertain whether her greatly +tried lover might not have to go back to an expected train at any one of +them, and to Albert, who did have a train on his mind and had ridden +swiftly up to his sweetheart's for the briefest of interviews, those +minutes seemed an hour. Yet Albert knew better, having his watch in +hand and waving it and pointing at it, the better to explain his hurry. +Once Emmy mustered courage in an access of desperation to rise to her +feet, but the look of horror on Miss Ann's features dropped her like a +club. + +Albert's mind darted blindly from one conjecture of disaster to another. +At one minute he was ready to march in rashly before Miss Ann and demand +what was the matter; at another he was cold at the thought of blundering +in on a deathbed. + +He gasped with relief when the door opened and Miss Keith came out, +smiling and calling: "Mrs. Conner! Mrs. Conner! hurry up that beef tea, +and make some strong coffee as soon as you can!" + +Then he did venture to come into the room, essaying a general bow and +smile. + +"I hope Aunty Darter is better!" he stammered. The children of the old +friends had always given them a brevet relationship. Mrs. Darter was +"Aunty Darter" to Albert, and Mrs. Glenn "Aunty Lida" to the Darter +girls. + +"Mrs. Darter will be well to-morrow," said Miss Keith, quietly; "she is +going to take some coffee--" + +"And some toast and plum jam," interrupted Mrs. Darter herself. "I know +Mrs. Conner has been making jam. The times I've hankered after jam these +last months! I'm going to eat everything I didn't dast to--" + +"By degrees," said Miss Keith, "as the mental power grows stronger." + +"Is that Albert?" said Mrs. Darter. "Albert, lift me up while I drink +that beef tea." + +Albert and Emmy held her while Mrs. Conner fed her a cup of the tea. +They laughed hysterically, with tears in their eyes, as Mrs. Darter +sighed weakly. "Oh, but that's good!" while Mrs. Conner radiated +satisfaction and Miss Ann rocked to and fro, announcing that it was +"mirac'lus!" They did not comprehend what had happened; they could not +look into the future and a time when Mrs. Darter should throw herself +with energy into preparing for Emmy's marriage; they only dimly foresaw +her recovery and reconciliation with the common pleasures of life; but +it was enough for Emmy that her mother's black hour had passed, and for +Albert that he was close to Emmy, and that there was a vague omen of +happiness in the atmosphere. + +Mrs. Darter took her tea. She went to sleep, as Miss Keith directed her; +and she partook with relish of coffee, toast, and jam that selfsame day, +so rapidly had her state improved by evening. It was after this last +meal, she being vastly strengthened by the food and drink, that she +received Albert's messages from his mother--rather, that she cut them +short. + +"No, Albert, your ma shan't keep on feeling bad. She was right. It was +all in my mind. All disease is in the mind, I guess. But I wasn't +putting it on--" + +"Oh, she _knows_; she didn't mean--" + +"We didn't, either of us, mean all we said; the truth is, I felt so bad +and so hungry I couldn't see straight, anyway; and as to Dr. Abbie +Cruller, I guess your mother wasn't far out. She said I never had had a +well day since I knew that woman, and I do believe that's so; but I've +got a wonderful new doctor now; don't charge a cent; and you tell your +mother to come over and see me and stay to tea. My hand's out making +blueberry cake, but I'm going to try." + +But this interview was hours after Doris Keith and the Conners had +driven away. Mrs. Conner gave her husband a graphic account of the +"miracle." "Ann Bigelow will have it's no less," says she. + +"Thing pleased me," chuckles Conner, wrinkling his eyes out of sight in +his ironic enjoyment--"thing pleased me was the way she'd go on 'bout +Miss Keith's eyes piercing her right through, after Miss Keith had +practysed them eyes on you 'n' me all the evening, jest from my +description of that Indian doctor. Well, she done it well; but I wish I +could have seen it!" + +"Will Mrs. Darter keep right on and not back-slide, think?" said Mrs. +Conner. + +"I think she will," said Doris; "I hope she will. And there's one thing: +after I'm gone (I shall have to run away from my reputation) you must +own up about your ankle--and _me_ to Miss Darter and poor, trusting Miss +Bigelow. She's such a good soul! Mrs. Darter--well, you will know when +it's safe to tell Mrs. Darter." + +"Humph!" said Conner, "Emmy'll be grateful! I guess we'll go slow on the +Widow Darter; and as to Ann Bigelow--" + +"I do feel sneaky about her," sighed Doris. "It's touching, her faith. +She's a simple-hearted creature. I hate to uproot her." + +"Oh, you needn't be afraid," said Conner, grinning; "she won't be +uprooted. She will say it's jest as much mental healing as if you done +it in earnest. And ain't Mrs. Darter healed? she'll say." + +"Well," Doris mused aloud, "I dare say she's right. It certainly was a +mental healing, and how far the power of the mind to heal goes none of +us can say. Perhaps, after all, she is right, and it _is_ a bit of a +miracle, although it was only a miracle play!" + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES THAT END WELL*** + + +******* This file should be named 33499-8.txt or 33499-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/3/4/9/33499 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Stories That End Well</p> +<p> An Adventure in Altruria----Through the Terrors of the Law----The Real Thing----The Old Partisan----Max--Or His Picture----The Stout Miss Hopkins' Bicycle----The Spellbinder----The Object of the Federation----The Little Lonely Girl----The Hero of Company G----A Miracle Play</p> +<p>Author: Octave Thanet</p> +<p>Release Date: August 25, 2010 [eBook #33499]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES THAT END WELL***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Darleen Dove, Roger Frank, Mary Meehan,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h1>STORIES THAT END WELL</h1> + +<h2>BY OCTAVE THANET</h2> + +<h3>AUTHOR OF "THE MAN OF THE HOUR," "THE LION'S SHARE,"<br /> "BY INHERITANCE," +ETC.</h3> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + + +<h3>NEW YORK<br /> +GROSSET & DUNLAP<br /> +PUBLISHERS</h3> +<p> </p> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Copyright 1911<br /> +The Bobbs-Merrill Company</span></h3> + +<p>The stories in this book were originally printed in <i>Harper's Magazine</i>, +<i>Harper's Bazaar</i>, <i>The Century Magazine</i>, <i>McClure's Magazine</i>, +<i>Scribner's Magazine</i> and <i>The Woman's Home Companion</i>, and to these +periodicals acknowledgements are due for their courtesy in giving +permission for republication.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#AN_ADVENTURE_IN_ALTRURIA">AN ADVENTURE IN ALTRURIA</a><br /> +<a href="#THROUGH_THE_TERRORS_OF_THE_LAW">THROUGH THE TERRORS OF THE LAW</a><br /> +<a href="#THE_REAL_THING">THE REAL THING</a><br /> +<a href="#THE_OLD_PARTISAN">THE OLD PARTISAN</a><br /> +<a href="#MAX_OR_HIS_PICTURE">MAX—OR HIS PICTURE</a><br /> +<a href="#THE_STOUT_MISS_HOPKINS_BICYCLE">THE STOUT MISS HOPKINS' BICYCLE</a><br /> +<a href="#THE_SPELLBINDER">THE SPELLBINDER</a><br /> +<a href="#THE_OBJECT_OF_THE_FEDERATION">THE OBJECT OF THE FEDERATION</a><br /> +<a href="#THE_LITTLE_LONELY_GIRL">THE LITTLE LONELY GIRL</a><br /> +<a href="#THE_HERO_OF_COMPANY_G">THE HERO OF COMPANY G</a><br /> +<a href="#A_MIRACLE_PLAY">A MIRACLE PLAY</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>STORIES THAT END WELL</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="AN_ADVENTURE_IN_ALTRURIA" id="AN_ADVENTURE_IN_ALTRURIA"></a>AN ADVENTURE IN ALTRURIA</h2> + + +<p>The story came to me through my friend, Mrs. Katherine Biff. Mrs. Biff +is a widow. Her profession—I will not slight her beautiful art by a +lesser word—is that of cook. She cooks for my cousin, Elinor, and it +was during one of Elinor's absences in Europe that Mrs. Biff had her +experience in Altruria, as the supply for Miss Mercedes Van Arden. It +was highly interesting, I think.</p> + +<p>She gave me the episode herself; because, in the first place, I am +Elinor's own cousin (like the rest of the world, she loves Elinor) and +in the second place, she knows that I appreciate her conversation. +Assuredly I do value Katy's freehand sketches of life. She is a shrewd +observer. Often while she talks I recall Stevenson's description of +another: "She is not to be deceived nor think a mystery solved when it +is repeated."</p> + +<p>Katy is an American by birth, but Celtic by race and by nature; a widow +to whom children never were granted, but who out of her savings has +helped educate and settle half a dozen of her nieces and nephews. Katy's +married life was brief and not happy. The late Biff was a handsome man +who never let other people's comforts or rights interfere with his own +pleasure. Nevertheless, when he was killed in a saloon brawl she did not +grudge him many carriages for his last journey (she who believes in +simple funerals. "When I give free rides, I'll give 'em while I'm alive +and can hear folks say 'Thank you!'" says she), and she has erected a +neat stone to his memory.</p> + +<p>It was three years after his death that Mrs. Biff came to Elinor, with +whom she has lived since.</p> + +<p>Elinor, one may say, bequeathed her to the Van Ardens. At least she +suggested them importunately to Katy. To me she explained, "Katy is a +maternal soul, and she can't help taking care of Mercy Van Arden, who is +a stray angel in a wicked world and <i>thinks</i> she is a socialist."</p> + +<p>We are conservative, peaceful, mid-Westerners in our town, and the only +socialists belong to a class that we do not meet nor recognize save by +their names in the papers published preliminary to fiery addresses +delivered at not very reputable tavern halls. Therefore, to have a +cultivated socialist, a young lady of wealth, who regarded her fortune +as a "trust," come to live among us was exciting. Her aunt, from whom +she had recently inherited her fortune, was well known to us, being a +large property owner in the town. She, the late aunt, was not in the +least a socialist; on the contrary, we esteemed her a particularly +shrewd and merciless adept at a bargain. She had a will of her own; and +considering that Miss Mercedes had borne the yoke for ten years, it was +generally considered that she had earned her legacy.</p> + +<p>Under all these conditions of interest, I admit I was glad enough to see +Katy Biff's decent black hat approaching the side door the day after her +entrance into the Van Arden family circle.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Well, Miss Patsy," she began, "I guess you know she's queer; I thought +I knew most of the brands of wine and women, as old Judge Howells used +to say, but this one beats me! I came 'round to the yard—she's hired +the Bateman place, furnished, you know, while the Batemans are towering +in Canada, she and her sister, who's a doctor lady. I hope the doctor'll +be a kinder balance wheel, but she's got a chore!</p> + +<p>"As I was saying, I came 'round the yard, aiming for the kitchen door, +when I heard somebody calling, and there she was opening the front door +to Nellie Small. Don't you remember Nellie Small? She was the Batemans' +waitress for three months—poor young things—and smashed a lot of their +nice wedding presents, the other girl told <i>me</i>. She's the kind that +always looks so fine and never dusts the hind legs of the table. I +wasn't none too pleased at the sight of her, but Miss Van Arden, she was +awful polite; took us both right into the <i>parlor</i> and made us set down. +I got worried thinking she'd mistook, and I hesitate a minute and then I +says:</p> + +<p>"'Miss Van Arden, I was going 'round to the kitchen door; I've come to +see about the cook's place.'</p> + +<p>"'I know,' says she right quick, with a little lift of her pretty brown +head. 'I know,' says she, 'you're Mrs. Biff, and you,' says she, smiling +so pretty on that Nellie trash, '<i>you're</i> Miss Small.'</p> + +<p>"'I <i>am</i>,' says Nellie, tossing her head.</p> + +<p>"So then she begins; and from that beginning, and calling us in that +way, you can imagine how she went on. She explained that while she was a +poor girl at her aunty's she read a lovely book about an imaginary +country called Altruria; and that the gentleman who wrote it didn't +think we <i>could</i> do that way in this country; she supposed we couldn't, +but she was going to try, and she hoped we would like her and help her. +She didn't know much about housekeeping; she had helped her aunty, but +it was writing letters and doing errands and dusting brac-a-brac (and +she laughed); the only things she knew how to do right well was to dust +and to polish jewelry and make tea. But she hoped to learn; and she had +got all the machinery she could think of; there was an electric washer +and an ironing machine, and a dishwashing machine, and bread and cake +machines, and we ought not to need to work more than eight hours a day. +She didn't believe really in more than six hours a day, but at first +maybe we wouldn't mind eight.</p> + +<p>"I could see that Nellie drinking it all in, getting more topping every +minute.</p> + +<p>"'Miss Van Arden,' says she, 'how about evenings? I'm used to having +<i>all</i> my evenings.'</p> + +<p>"'I ain't, madam,' says I, 'not if there's dinner company. And I know +well enough Nellie ain't, neither.'</p> + +<p>"'I—I could have dinner in the middle of the day,' says Miss Van Arden +real pitiful, 'if it weren't that my sister comes in tired at night and +likes a hot meal; but I've got a fireless stove, and it <i>might</i> be +cooked and left in the fireless stove and we could wait on ourselves.'</p> + +<p>"'I guess that'll be satisfactory,' says Nellie, dipping her head and +smiling a haughty smile, while I was quivering to git a word in Miss Van +Arden's ear. But, of course, there was no chance. And Miss Van Arden, +she went on to say that she didn't eat meat herself, but her sister +liked to have it, so—'</p> + +<p>"'I have to have meat myself,' hops in that Nellie.</p> + +<p>"'Oh, of course,' Miss Van Arden said; she didn't dictate to others, but +personally she didn't eat meat; but she didn't need any special +vegetable dishes made for her.</p> + +<p>"'You shall have 'em if you want 'em, ma'am,' says I; then, 'and I +guess the cook will have something to say about the kitchen table; I +ain't never much on meat myself.' I guess that was one for miss!</p> + +<p>"'Oh, thank you,' says Miss Van Arden real grateful—she's jest as +sweet's they make 'em, Miss Patsy. Then she looked very timidly at +Nellie and the color came into her face.</p> + +<p>"'I should like to have you take your meals with me if—if I were +alone,' she stammers, 'but my sister—we have so little time +together—we'll try not to make much waiting—' She got into a kind of +mess of stammers, when I cut in and told her that we much preferred to +eat in our own pantry, which was big enough for a dining-room.</p> + +<p>"Well, you can guess, Miss Patsy, that about this time I was wishing +myself well out of it all, for I've lived with notional folks before, +and folks who wanted to make friends of their help, and what I like with +strangers is to have them keep their side of the fence and I'll keep +mine; I ain't seeking any patronage from nobody, and I got too much +self-respect not to be respectful. But I'd promised Mrs. Caines; so I +simply told what wages I wanted, and I made 'em reasonable, too. But +Nellie—my! she named a sum two dollars a week more'n she ever'd got and +four dollars more'n she was worth; and for hatred of meddling I sat +still and let that poor little sweet Babe in the Woods agree to it. But +I miss my guess if I have to put up with Nellie long!</p> + +<p>"So we was engaged. Not a word about any day's work in the week or when +she has sweeping done (she said she'd do the dusting herself—and she's +<i>wise</i>, with Nellie 'round) or when she had bakings or anything; only +that she'd have a laundress come in three days (eight hours a day) and +do all our washing. We got a room apiece, but we haven't got a bathroom +like at Mrs. Caines', so she told us we could have the guest bathroom. +My! but I wish you'd heard her; and she's just the prettiest thing in +the world and wears the prettiest clothes. Her clothes is all that gives +me hope of her! She said she embroidered her shirt-waist herself; and I +guess if she can sit up and take that amount of notice, she's got the +makings of sense in her!</p> + +<p>"She said could I come that day. I said, 'Yes, ma'am.'</p> + +<p>"'You needn't call me that,' says she; 'I don't care for those little +distinctions.'</p> + +<p>"'If you please, ma'am,' I says, kind but firm, 'they're fitting and +proper and I prefer it, ma'am.'</p> + +<p>"Well, Miss Patsy, I got my first dinner yesterday. I even made the +salad, which belongs to the waitress, but I couldn't risk Nellie Small's +ideas of French dressing <i>yet</i>! Miss Patsy, she set her own plate at +table.</p> + +<p>"'Now,' says I, 'let's talk plain United States a minute. Whether that +poor, innercent, looney lady craves our company or not, she ain't going +to git it. When I'm cooking a dinner I ain't dressed up for company. I +want <i>my</i> meals in peace, and you ought to want <i>yours</i>; they got their +own gossip, same's us; and whatever Miss Van Arden might be willing to +do, the doctor'll want to have her sister and her friends to herself +without you and me butting in; just as I want my meals to myself without +<i>them</i>!'</p> + +<p>"Nellie told me she was just as good as them; and I said I wasn't the +one that had to decide that; goodness was something only the Lord +Almighty got the scales for weighing exact, but I'd bet money, if it +came to sheer, imbecile cleanness of heart and willingness to sacrifice +herself for any old thing, that Miss Van Arden could give us both a long +start and then beat us! But I guessed we'd leave that part out. Sich +things was just business. We got to take the world's we found it. So she +said <i>she</i> wouldn't take the plate off. I said I wasn't proud; wherefore +I took it off myself, and she didn't put no more on, and the sisters had +their meal in peace. She come when the buzzer called her and waited +fairly well—she's bright enough when she wants to be.</p> + +<p>"Doctor? Oh, she's a horse of another color. She's ten years older'n her +sister and ain't seen much of her since their parents died and Miss +Mercy went to live with her aunty, and she seems to set a good deal by +her and be puzzled by her, too. She's got a good appetite and knows good +food. I can git along with <i>her</i> all right. But I mistrust that Nellie, +being so half baked, we'll get our trouble soon! We've a colored man +looks out for the furnace and beats the rugs and tends to the yard and +does chores; he seems a decent sort of man. I got a rise out of Nellie +'bout him, though. She was just <i>boiling</i> and sissing when I remarked, +'You think everybody's as good as everybody else, so I expect you won't +mind having Amos set down with us.' Why, she flew into fifty pieces. +'Eat with a nigger!' she screamed.</p> + +<p>"Of course, I was only fooling, and he was glad enough to get a good +meal in the laundry; he's a real nice, sensible man. But my lady was +off, not so much as putting the dishes in the washing machine. Marched +off with her young man, who's on strike; so he's underfoot most of the +time. That kind makes me tired!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Naturally, after this conversation with Katy I agreed with my sister +that it would be interesting to call; and we planned an early day. It +was, however, even earlier than our plans.</p> + +<p>My chamber (at my sister's house, where I was visiting) is on the side +near the Bateman house; and it happened to be I who first discovered the +smoke volleying out of the Bateman furnace chimney, followed by a +roaring spout of flame. I knew Katy had gone to our little up-town +grocery, for I had seen her on the way; and I made all haste across the +lawn, with all our ice-cream salt. The fire really was easily dealt +with. By the time the firemen arrived (summoned by Nellie), all was over +save the shouting, as they say in the political reports. Amos and Nellie +were still calling "Fire!" Katy arrived a good second to the hose cart, +breathless with running, but all her wits in good order.</p> + +<p>"Long's you've put out the fire, Miss Patsey, I'll put out the fire +department," said she; "they're the only danger. Miss Mercy, you open +all the windows; let's git rid of the smoke. Nellie, what you carrying +your clothes out for?"</p> + +<p>Mercedes quite won our hearts by her docility and the quiet way she +obeyed. Perhaps it was in recognition that Katy became her tower of +refuge when the cause of the fire appeared. It was no less than Amos. He +had been hired without any heartless prying into recommendations, on the +ideal Altrurian ground of Need. He was asked, to be sure, could he run a +furnace, and with the optimism of the African replied that he reckoned +he could. He did not add that he had never tried to run one before. +Doubtless it was natural that he should not discover the meaning of the +cunning chains going through the floors; and when dampers increase the +draft if shut and diminish it if open, who can wonder that Amos should +artlessly shut everything in sight—including the registers? Natural +laws did the rest.</p> + +<p>Amos was very patient, almost tearful. He said he didn't know whatever +Sally would do when he come home outen a job; Sally be'n so satisfied +befo' but he didn't cast no blame on nobody. Sally, it came out later, +was ill.</p> + +<p>"Is it anything infectious?" demanded Mercedes' sister, the doctor, who +by this time was on the scene.</p> + +<p>"I dunno, ma'am; I reckon <i>'tis</i>," deprecated Amos. "Hit's a right new +baby, come a week ago, an' she ain't got up yit."</p> + +<p>Then it was while Nellie glibly proposed a new man, a man of assured +efficiency, two years janitor of a "flat," and the brother of a friend; +and Mercedes Van Arden had only bewildered compassion to justify her +desire to forgive the culprit; and Doctor Van Arden frowned, that Katy +spoke the word of power.</p> + +<p>"Doctor," said she, "Amos mayn't know much about the furnace, but he's +a decent, honest man that found my ten cents out on the steps and gave +it to me; and I know how to run furnaces, and I'll learn him. What's +more, I can burn up <i>all</i> the coal, and not smoke up the house or the +neighborhood. And one good thing—if Amos can't run a furnace, he +<i>knows</i> it now, anyhow; there's many a janitor man's been smoking up +flats for years ain't found out <i>that</i> yet. Doctor, I'll answer for Amos +if you ladies will keep him."</p> + +<p>Amos was kept. I fancied that Mercedes was almost as grateful as he.</p> + +<p>After this for a time matters went on in a sufficiently prosaic and +satisfactory manner. We put both of the sisters up in the Monday Club +and the doctor consented to talk to the club on the "Smoke Nuisance" at +our meeting in which we discussed that bane of the housekeeper, under +the startling caption, "The City of Dreadful Night." We asked Mercedes +to embody her own Social Creed in a fifteen-minute paper; but she +pleaded almost with tears that she was simply a student who had not +studied enough to know, only to feel; and she blushed deeply. So she was +reprieved. Meanwhile the doctor (who had been quietly working up a +practise in our town for six years) began to be seen at the bedsides of +divers prominent ladies.</p> + +<p>Several of us asked the sisters to luncheon, to dinner and to bridge +parties. In return, the sisters entertained the club at tea, a function +whereat Katy covered herself with glory, and Nellie graciously consented +to pass plates and listen and break two heavy Colonial goblets—Nellie +was slim and light on her feet, but she surely had a heavy hand.</p> + +<p>Katy came over to borrow our monkey wrench the next morning because +Nellie and the friend whom she had recommended to assist in waiting, had +contrived to loosen a water faucet. She was brimming with criticisms of +this last helper, as well as of Nellie.</p> + +<p>"Did she stay to help wash dishes?" Thus she let her suppressed disgust +explode. "Well, I should <i>say</i>! And got extry pay for staying, too, and +had her young man in for supper afterward; and the things she gave him +to carry away, the fancy candies with bow-knots on them, and the cakes +with roses, and the <i>marionglasyes</i>! And when I spoke up to her she +claimed Miss Mercy <i>told</i> her to—and there's no saying, maybe she did! +Her young man's on strike; he's at the locomotive works; she claims he +gits four-fifty a day and he's striking for more, I expect; he's been on +strike six weeks now, and he comes here to meals four times a week and +eats—well, Miss Mercy said, 'Make him welcome,' so I do; but I own to +you, Miss Patsy, something I feel real bad about. That young Mr. Gordon, +it's his pa is president of the works; he's a real nice young man jest +out of Harvard College, and he met Miss Mercy in Chicago and went 'round +a lot with her, and I made up my mind and Nellie made up hers—and she +ain't a fool, Nellie, for all she's so flighty—that they were going to +make a match of it; but Nellie got Miss Mercy to promise she'd go speak +to old Mr. Gordon about the strike; Miss Mercy's got a awful lot of +stock herself, in the works; and I dunno the rights of it, but I'm sure +those young things had <i>words</i>! It's a bitter black shame, too, it is, +dragging that poor child in! Doctor don't like it any more than I do. +And poor little Miss Mercy, she's scared to death; but <i>that</i> won't stop +her; the more it hurts, the more she is sure she had ought to do it."</p> + +<p>I didn't think little Miss Van Arden could move old Mr. Gordon's +convictions; but it was true that she was the largest individual +stockholder in the works, and hence she might make trouble with the +wavering minds, certainly trouble enough to irritate the president, who +was a sterling, but not always a patient man.</p> + +<p>"They want to run the works as a closed shop, don't they?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Jest that. Miss Mercy, if she <i>is</i> a reforming lady, she ain't +arrergant like most sich; and she asked me what I thought about the +strike. She got my opinion of it cold. 'There's strikes and strikes,' +says I. 'Strikes for higher wages may be right or wrong, as depends, but +a strike for the right to keep every other man but your gang out of a +job is bound to be wrong. I ain't no sympathy with any kind of closed +shops, whether the bosses close 'em to union men, or the union men close +'em to everybody 'cept themselves.'"</p> + +<p>The next day I saw the little Socialist's white, miserable face go by my +window with Katy's solid cheer at her elbow. She had agreed to see Mr. +Gordon first before she appeared at the board meetting, and (as Katy put +it) "poured coal oil on the fire to put it out." Of course, there was a +useless journey. Mr. Gordon felt moved to utter certain pet opinions of +his own regarding the ease of making mischief when ignorant people +interfered in business. If it was any comfort to her to know that she +was giving him an infernal lot of trouble she could take it all right; +but he had to do right according to his own conscience, and not hers, +and he wished her good-morning. Very limp and dejected she departed.</p> + +<p>"'The worst of it is,' she says to me, Katy related, 'the worst of all +is, while I believe he ought to do what the men want rather than keep up +the strike, I don't really feel <i>sure</i> they ought to want him to do it. +It's so hard on the outside men.' Oh, she's got some sense straying +about her, though it's mainly lost to view. But I do wish she could make +it up with her beau. He ain't been 'round for a week; and when folks +ain't got a meat diet they can't stand the strain of being crossed in +love!"</p> + +<p>Even Katy's Celtic loyalty was staggered the next week. She came over on +a perfectly needless borrowing errand to tell me.</p> + +<p>"Did you see it, ma'am? Being my afternoon out, I wasn't there. Did +<i>you</i> see that woman tumble down on our grass and herself run out with +Amos and Mrs. Kane?" (Mrs. Kane was the laundress, who acted also as +scrubwoman once a week, Nellie's health not being equal to the weekly +cleaning required in a tidy household.) "Did you see it? I began to +sniff the minute I struck the hall. My word! I knowed it. Then I begun +to hear the groans—<i>'O-o-ah! O-o-ah!'</i> mumbling, grumbling kind of +groans—I didn't need anything more to get next to that situation, no, +ma'am. Mrs. Kane come tumbling down-stairs. You know her, Miss Patsy, +Tim Kane's widow, a fair-to-middling laundress and next door to a fool +about everything else. Jest the kind that gits a good husband like +Timothy and then fools away the money he leaves her and has to come on +the wash tub. Down-stairs she comes—wild! The poor woman, they'd seen +her fall outside, and Miss Mercy and she'd taken her in on a mattress +with Amos to help; Amos wanted to call the amberlance, but Miss Mercy +said no, they'd take her to the police; so they three took the poor +creature into the house. And 'Oh, hear her groan!' I said, yes, she was +easy to hear. I guess Amos felt all right; but you know niggers are +biddable, and whatever they think, the creatures do like they're told.</p> + +<p>"Well, I walked up-stairs. She was there in the guest chamber on one of +the twin beds with the flowery card, 'Sleep gently in this quiet room,' +etcetery, over the towsledest head and <i>sech</i> skirts! She'd been having +a time for sure. Herself had put a wet ice bandage on the woman's head +and a hot-water bag to her feet, and she was a-laying her hands, her own +pretty, soft, little, white, trembling hands, to her awful shoes, but +says <i>I</i>:</p> + +<p>"'You <i>stop</i>! Don't you tech her!'</p> + +<p>"'I must,' says she; 'they're soaked.'</p> + +<p>"'Don't you see what's the matter of her?' say I. 'She's dead drunk!'</p> + +<p>"I reckoned she'd deny it. Not a bit. 'I suppose so,' says she; 'that's +why I wouldn't let them call the amberlance.'</p> + +<p>"'And do you mean to keep her <i>here</i>?' says I. 'That drunken rubbish?'</p> + +<p>"Well, she does; she was awful sorry for the trouble to us, but the +woman fell down at her door, and she was in dire misery, and Miss Mercy +she felt she had <i>got</i> to take her in. My word, Miss Patsy, I had to +shet my teeth a minute to keep back my feelings, but every word I said +was: 'I guess you better move that other bed out and then you can <i>burn</i> +this one!' Heavens, I ain't going to describe the next hour till the +doctor come. Now, she's laying comfortable in the doctor's gown, in that +nice clean bed, and I've made her chicken broth and mustard plasters and +everything else for her comfort.</p> + +<p>"When the doctor come, she said, 'This goes the limit,' and then she bit +off the rest and swallered it and said, 'We'll have to scrub her.' And +we did—with washing powder and scouring soap. I hope it hurt, but I'm +'fraid it didn't."</p> + +<p>"How does Nellie take it?"</p> + +<p>The sorely tried Mrs. Biff grinned. "'Tis that keeps me from quite +sinking; she is most dretful horrified and vowing she's going to leave."</p> + +<p>However, Nellie did not go; it was the castaway whom they had succored +who awoke in her right mind before any one was stirring the next +morning, clothed herself, for lack of her own rags (which were airing in +the back yard), in a decent brown dress, cloak and hat of the doctor's +from the guest-room closet, put on the doctor's large, serviceable +boots, and gathering the loose silver and three one-dollar banknotes +left in Katy's cash box, otherwise her "cup" from the pantry shelf, +departed into the unknown nether world from whence she came.</p> + +<p>"And a mercy she didn't murder us in our beds!" opined Nellie; "maybe +she will yet!"</p> + +<p>Nellie's prophecy appeared less grotesque the following week when her +young man, Phil, by Christian name—I did not come to know his +surname—discovered at the police station or the engine house (he +frequenting both places in his wealth of leisure) that the castaway had +escaped from a quarantined house full of smallpox, in a little hamlet +near by. Here was a situation! Nellie vowed she wouldn't sleep a wink +were she Mrs. Kane or Amos, particularly Amos, because colored folk took +naturally to smallpox.</p> + +<p>Amos only grinned; but Mrs. Kane was palpably nervous and began +inquiring into symptoms of what Nellie termed "the dread disease."</p> + +<p>Presently she was feeling them faithfully. And Katy shrugged the +shoulder of scorn. But scorn turned into consternation by Monday, for +an agitated neighbor came to the front door to announce that Mrs. Kane +was sick in bed with an awful fever and broke out terrible, and would +the doctor please step over there.</p> + +<p>"And all the clothes in the suds!" sighed Katy. "But that's nothing. +Poor Miss Mercy! she's almost out of her mind; she says that <i>she's</i> to +blame; she's brought smallpox on that innocent woman, and most like +she'll die; and if she hadn't been so wicked and headstrong and had +listened to her friend (she didn't name nobody, but I know she means +young Gordon) and her sister, it wouldn't have happened; she hadn't even +helped the woman who fetched the smallpox; she'd only tempted her to +crime! And what should she say to poor Mrs. Bateman? Nobody wanted to +rent her home to be a pest-house. And she'd set the house afire by +hiring an ignorant man—Oh, she was a wicked girl! Her aunty often told +her she was a fool, and oh, why hadn't she believed her and not tried to +do things too big for her senseless head? And she's been fairly crying +her eyes out. The poor, sweet, humble-minded little thing!"</p> + +<p>Poor little Mercy! But I was to pity her much more during the succeeding +ten minutes. Amos came out to the barberry hedge to tell our cook that +Miss Mercy was in bed and he 'lowed she'd smallpox. He was off in +pursuit of the doctor, who was at Mrs. Kane's who'd got a fearful bad +case. Hardly was Amos out of sight than Nellie, in her cheap imitation +of the latest fashion of big hat, dashed out of the gate after the +street car. So do rats desert the sinking ship, I thought. Straightway I +went over to the house. Katy herself answered the bell. She was in two +minds about ejecting me by force, but she softened when I recalled to +her how recently I had been vaccinated.</p> + +<p>"Well, Miss Patsy, that's <i>so</i>," she admitted, "and besides, I ain't +absolutely sure <i>'tis</i> smallpox. But she'd a kinder chill and I wouldn't +let her come down-stairs. Say, you don't happen to have seen Nellie +anywhere?"</p> + +<p>When I told her, she drew a long sigh. We were standing at the side +door, where a great Norway fir shakes its blue-green shadows.</p> + +<p>"'Tis like her," said Katy bitterly, "and only yesterday Miss Mercy gave +her sech a pretty waist. And now she's run off and Miss Mercy's got the +smallpox—mebbe. Well, I dunno as it's as dangerous as Alterruria, and +mebbe one will cure the other—Oh, <i>say</i>! Look, Miss Patsy!"</p> + +<p>I looked. They came in a kind of rush with the flutter of brilliant +autumn leaves, swirling around the house corner—Nellie and young Ralph +Gordon. Nellie's cheeks were blazing, but young Gordon looked white and +stern.</p> + +<p>"Why, Nellie Small, ain't you run away?" cried Katy.</p> + +<p>Before Nellie could retort, the young gentleman took the limelight.</p> + +<p>"Where is Miss Mercy?" he demanded in that tone of voice which the +novelists call "tense;" "I must say a few words to her. You can let me +say them through the door, if you wish, Mrs. Biff."</p> + +<p>Katy hardly considered; her eyes shone into his masterful face. She +turned on her heel and he followed her. Instantly Nellie's excitement +found burning words: "I <i>heard</i> her, Miss McFarlin! She thinks I ran +away! <i>Me!</i> Well, I know she has a mean opinion of me, but I didn't +expect she'd be that unjust. I'm jest as fond of Miss Mercy as she is; +I only sprinted down the street to ketch her young man, because I know +they had a misunderstanding, and I was sure, no matter how mad he was, +the minute I told him, he'd come a-running, and whether they let her see +him or not, it would cheer her up a whole lot to know he tried. And as +for Mrs. Biff's pitying Miss Mercy and finding fault with her, <i>I</i> can +tell you she's made me believe things Mrs. Biff nor nobody else could if +she offered me the kingdom of heaven and a chromo! I never believed +before rich folks <i>could</i> be like her. I don't know what that Altrury of +hers is, but if <i>she</i> believes in it <i>I'm</i> going to; and so is Phil, and +he's going to make them stop the strike, too; and it's a whole lot +because of what she's said and what I've said 'bout her. It is, for +fair!"</p> + +<p>Thereupon Nellie burst into tears, and disappeared behind the kitchen +lattice.</p> + +<p>Later, some hours later, I had a chance to tell Katy. But it was then no +news to her. She shook her philosophic head. "'Lightning and grace,' +Biff used to say, 'you can't noways bet on, for there's no manner of +knowing <i>where</i> they'll strike.' Now that Nellie, she fairly bu'st into +Miss Mercy's room, me being busy seeing Mr. Gordon safe outer the +house; and I expected to find she'd riz Miss Mercy's temperature; but +she'd most cured her instid; and Miss Mercy she set up and laffed out +loud. And she ain't got smallpox, neither, not a bit; no more'n that +ijit Sallie Kane, who's down with German measles and nothing wuss. I +guess we was all more scared than hurt. But it beats all about +Nellie—well, I want to be fair to all, she's been doing the sweeping +better for a good while. All I say is, if Alterruria can convert Nellie +Small there must be something decent in Alterruria."</p> + +<p>"I wish it might convert all of us—a <i>little</i>," said I. "I'm afraid I'm +not enlightened enough to desire entire conversion; it would demand a +new incarnation!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THROUGH_THE_TERRORS_OF_THE_LAW" id="THROUGH_THE_TERRORS_OF_THE_LAW"></a>THROUGH THE TERRORS OF THE LAW</h2> + +<h3>A STORY OF ARKANSAS</h3> + + +<p>Sist' Esmeralda Humphreys was not present at the meeting of Zion +Hard-shell Baptist Church. It is questionable whether there had been any +such meeting had she been likely to attend, since how to dispense with +the ministry of Sister Humphreys was its object, and the sister was a +woman of power. But she had gone to the store for her semi-annual +settlement of account. Therefore the disaffected in Zion raised their +heads, perceiving that their hour was come.</p> + +<p>The "church-house" (of a week-day the school-house) crowned a gentle +rise of ground on the outskirts of an Arkansas plantation. It was backed +by the great gum forests, where the sun rose, while on one side, winding +toward the reddening evening skies, the cypress slash had eaten its way +through the brown clay to the Black River. Full of mystery and uncanny +beauty was the slash, its sluggish gleam of water creeping darkly under +solemn cypresses and monstrous hackberry-trees, tinseled with cow-lilies +in summer, spattered with blood-red berries in winter, green with +delicate beauty when the cypress is in leaf, or gray and softly brown +when its short-lived foliage falls. Did one care to deal in mystical +analogy, one might find in the slash suggestions of the African's +undeveloped soul, where brute and child still battle for mastery.</p> + +<p>It was a school-house for children of the darker race only, and only +negroes were in the little band whose hymns penetrated the wide sweep of +cotton-fields, the weird African cadences wilder and more mournful than +the hoot-owl's oboe keening in the forest. To-night the house was but +sparsely filled by the regular worshipers, Zion congregation proper. +Brother Zubaeel Morrow presided, because he had once attended a district +Republican convention, where he had imbibed parliamentary lore.</p> + +<p>"Dis meetin' will please come to ordah," he announced; "is you-all ready +fo' de question?"</p> + +<p>"W' are question, Bruddah Morrow?" called out a brother in the rear +seats.</p> + +<p>"Bruddah Carroll, you is out of ordah. Whenst I git in dis cheer an take +dis gabble,"—he extended the hatchet used, before its promotion, to +chop kindling,—"take notice, I is de <i>Cheer</i>; you-all is to 'dress me +as 'Mist' Cheerman.' You is axin' 'bout de question: de question is, +Shall Sist' Esmereldy Humphreys continner to usu'p de rights of we-alls +pastor? Ain't dat the onderstandin' of dis here awjence?"</p> + +<p>Signs of approval and assent came from the audience. The chairman, +rising, took the attitude of the white speaker whom he had admired most +at the convention, plunging one hand into the bosom of his +coat—buttoned for that purpose—and gazing solemnly about him. All the +colored population of the country-side were proud of the school-house, +which was painted a neat lead color as to wood-work and brown as to +walls; with red lettering done by a member who had followed the +painter's trade (although not very far), declaring piously on the west +wall, "The Lord will provide," and politely requesting on the east wall, +"Please do not spit on the floor." A stately blackboard behind the +teacher's desk showed her excellent moral sentiments and penmanship. +There was no carpet on the floor, but it was clean and the windows +glistened.</p> + +<p>"Dis yere school-house, dis yere chu'ch-house, are a credit to de cullud +ladies an' gen'l'men of Zion Baptis' Chu'ch," declaimed Brother Morrow, +sonorously, "an' we-all had orter have a pastor who w'u'd—we'd +correspond. I ain't sayin' one word of disparaguement of our late +deseased pastor. He be'n a good, pious man" ("Amen!" from two half-grown +lads in the rear), "but he had a terrible sight of losses an' troubles, +losin' all of his chillen like he done; an' him sick such a spell befo' +de Lawd called him f'om grace to glory. Mabbe he didn't be'n eloquent +like the supply we had, but Elder W'ite had nare right to git Sist' Lucy +Tompkins to run 'way wid 'im, f'om 'er good, kin', respectable husban'" +(a little crumpled, elderly negro raised his head with an air of modest +pride), "an' he done borry two dollars an' fifty cents of de cheer dat I +don't expec' nothin' of ontwel de jedgment day! So w'en our pastor +passed away we'all was like sheep outen a shepherd; an' we'en Sist' +Humphreys done offah to keep de' chu'ch-house clean an' cyah on de +services of Zion, an' make no cha'ges, we-all acceptid."</p> + +<p>"Mist' Cheerman,"—a grizzled negro in decent black held up a +finger,—"Mist' Cheerman, was hit Sist' Humphreys keep dis 'ouse dis +away?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Bruddah Moore; she are a right good scrubber," admitted the +chairman, while the congregation stared at the speaker, the richest +colored man in the county, who had moved into the neighborhood recently, +this being his first appearance in Zion.</p> + +<p>"Fo' a spell," continued the chairman, "t'ings went on suspiciously +enough. Sist' Humphreys be'n an edicated lady; an' she is a plumb good +cook. Her preachin' didn't be'n whut we-all air longin' to heah; nare +shakin' of de soul ovah de mouf of hell, nare mo'nin', nare revivals; +but we hilt our peace, an' Zion attendid regular, an' las' socherable +gatherin' there be'n nigh a hunderd, big an' little, presint—"</p> + +<p>"And she gave us all cake and candy and lemonade with ice in it!" a +woman's mellow voice called out.</p> + +<p>The heads of the congregation went round in the direction of the voice, +and a large number of rolling black eyes stared at the school-teacher, +whose comely brown face showed that deepening of tint which is the same +as an Anglo-Saxon's blush. "Teacher" had been educated at Tuskegee and +was suspected of being "biggity."</p> + +<p>The chairman gave her a gloomy nod. "No doubt, my sistah, no doubt +hankerin' ayfter de flesh-pots of Egypt done fotch <i>some</i> po' sinnahs t' +de altar. I ain't complainin' of de carnil an' carniferous food she done +give us, but of de spitichul nu'ishment. I nev' did see a mo'ner rollin' +on dis flo' w'ilst Sist Humphreys be'n yere. We-all be'n thirstin' an' +famishin' fo' a good ol'-time revival. But we enjured ontwel one day de +glory come on Br'er Pope, an' he hollered,—tryin' to lif' us all +up,—Amen! Amen! Let de sinner quit sinnin' an' he <i>shill</i> be saved!' +An' dat ar woman she call out: 'Yes; <i>let</i> 'im quit sinnin'! Let 'im +quit sellin' of aigs to de sto' w'en he don't be keepin' only one hen!' +Dat ar remark incinerated false an' wicked notions 'bout Unc' Alick +Pope, who lives nigh de cunnel's chicken-yard." (A solitary giggle from +the shoolmistress.) "She done fa'ly r'ar an' charge 'bout +chicken-stealin'. Dat ain't promote edderfication nor good feelin'." +(Groans of assent from a deeply interested audience.) "But nex' Sabbath +come wuss. She done announce she be'n 'lowin' to preach us a serious +discourse on de Ten Commandmints. Well, we-all done look dem +commandmints up an' study on dem a heap. We felt tol'able secure on de +Fust an' Second, she lumpin' dem togedder fo' one out at preachin'; an' +we sat back easy, hopin' fo' grace an' true religion; but she jes slued +roun' on to conjure-cha'ms an' such, invagin' ag'in' dem twell we got +all de devotional feelin' plumb squoze outen us. Third Commandmint we +natchelly didn't expec' no harm of; but ayfter de fust godly words 'bout +profane sw'arin', ef she didn't git on to false sw'arin' befo' the gran' +jury, 'bout crap-shootin', en git us all terrible oncomfortable. Nex' +command she didn't be'n sound on, sayin' a heap 'bout washin' up in tubs +Sattiddy nights, an' tew little 'bout de spitichul ovservation of the +holy day; an' come down hard on a respectid brother who sayd once, 'I +isn't to wash in winter'; an' sayd bad wuds 'bout sisters dat went +visitin' Sattiddy evenin's, stidder washin' up ready fo' de holy day; +sayd some sisters nev' did wash de po' little tricks' shirts, jes' taken +a new flour-sack an' cut holes in it. She talked like dat ontwel it be'n +right ondecent and onchristian; an' one sister dat's subjec' to fits +providenchelly done t'rowed one an' bruk up de meetin'. But we-all +sorter done spunk up on de Fif' Commandmint; looked lak <i>hit</i> be'n sho' +harmliss; an' we done fotch de chillen to learn deir juty to deir +parents. Well, dey sho' <i>got</i> it! But den she done scorched de parents +mightily 'bout de 'zample dey be'n bleeged to set de chillen. Dat ar +be'n a fearful, sufferin' hour, an' I nev' did see dis yere congregation +so dry an' havin' to git out de pump so often. Dey went by whole +famblies; an' befo' she be'n frow mighty nigh ever' las' chil' b'en +taken outside. We didn't <i>dast</i> let 'em see frow it." (Groans all over +the house.) "She nigh bust de chu'ch on de Sixth Commandmint wid +outrageous rema'ks on <i>razors</i>. An' nex' Sunday comes de Seventh +Commandmint, an' we ain't nowise willin to enjure her handlin' of <i>dat</i>, +nohow." (Deep groans of assent from brothers and sisters alike.) "Nor de +Eight', neider." ("No, <i>no</i>!" from the seat of Uncle Alexander Pope.) +"Wust is, de ongodly outside, de Methodists an' de cullud folks from de +Ridge, is fixin' to come over an' see we-all ripped up. De chu'ch house +be'n plumb full ever' Sabbath, an' we-all don' dast stay 'way, not +knowin' what scandillous stories will be circulated." ("Dat's so!" +"Holp, Lord!" from earnest souls in the audience.) "An' de chu'ch is +losin' of members. Bruddah Dan Williams done moved away." ("No, sah, no, +he ain't; he b'en sent to de pen!") "I didn't say how come he moved, +Brudder Carroll; he are <i>gone</i>. Unc' Jim Hollis done 'bandon his crop. +Aunt Caledonia Ray lef' las' week 'count of injur'us reflections 'bout a +mince pie she done mix up by mistake wid de week's wash she taken fum de +big house. We done pled wid Sist' Humphreys to quit; but she won't quit. +Now de question am: How shill we git saved f'om Sist' Humphreys an' git +a preacher will preach religion—<i>an' nuffin else</i>?"</p> + +<p>Amid a deep hum of applause Brother Morrow sat down. Half a dozen voices +begged for attention; but the chair recognized Sister Susannah Belle +Coffin. Sister Susannah was of exceeding comeliness and a light-brown +complexion. If report spake truly, there was no one in Zion who had more +reason to dread a fearless and minute exposition of the demands of the +Seventh Commandment. She had started her career as a destroyer of +domestic peace with a capital of good looks, a gift for cookery, a voice +of silver, and two small unpremeditated children. "A single pussen like +me wid two chillen," would be her plaintive excuse for demanding the +good offices of the brothers in cutting wood or "palin' in her gyardin"; +and too often, under the spell of Susannah's eyes and Susannah's voice +and Susannah's cooking, the end of an innocent neighborly kindness was a +jealous wife and a "parting." Sometimes Susannah wedded the departing +husband, sometimes she flouted him; but steadily, single or wedded, +Susannah's little garden-plot grew more beautiful, Susannah's kitchen +range accumulated a more dazzling array of tin and copper, and +Susannah's best room was more splendidly bedecked with curtains, +pillow-shams, and a gilt mirror.</p> + +<p>At present speaking, the dark enchantress was the lawful wedded wife of +the young blacksmith, and the whole plantation had admired to see her +enter the holy estate in white Swiss muslin and a voluminous veil which +she utilized, later, as a window-curtain. She now inquired with much +pleasing modesty of mien: "I jes want to ask, Mist' Cheerman, how're +we-all to git Sist' Humphreys to go if she don' wanter?"</p> + +<p>Sighs, allied to groans, bore testimony that she had voiced the +forebodings of the audience. But a visiting brother who had the courage +of his non-residence, came to the front; he suggested that a letter be +sent to the sister, announcing the sense of the meeting, saying that the +congregation was not edified by her ministrations and that the +church-house would be closed until a new pastor had been selected.</p> + +<p>"De motion, as de cheer un'erstands it, are to dismiss Sist' Esmeraldy +Humphreys an' shet de do's on her," said the chairman. "Is—what is it, +Sist' Macklin?"</p> + +<p>He spoke kindly, and the woman whom he addressed seemed in need of +kindness, since she was trembling visibly. She was a little creature in +the pathetic compromise for mourning which poverty makes with grief—her +accustomed winter jacket of brown, but with a somber garnishment of +crape, black ribbons on her old gray hat, and a black border to her +handkerchief.</p> + +<p>The congregation looked at her, pityingly, as she began in the +high-pitched voice of the unaccustomed speaker:</p> + +<p>"Bruddah Morrow—I mean Bruddah Cheerman, I are right mortified Sist' +Humphreys done chastice you all; but I jest got to b'ar my testimony +you-all are mistaken 'bout her bein' crool. Oh, dear bruddahs an' +sistahs, she ain't! You-all knows my—my boy"—she choked over the word, +and the hearers waited in mute and awkward compassion, because her boy, +the last of her children, had been hanged at the little county-seat only +a month before for the murder of his wife—"my boy w'u'dn't repent; he +w'u'dn't do nuffin but cuss de woman dat fotch him dar an' den nebber so +much look at him. I spen' ever' las' cent I had on earth to try git him +off, an' I taken de jail wash, I did, to be nigh 'im an' mabbe git him a +bite like he's uster to eat; but he w'u'dn't paht lips wid me; sayd I +be'n a good mudder to him, but he didn't want to h'ar me beggin' an' +pleadin' wid 'im to repent an' make peace wid God. Oh, I did be'n in de +brack water, wadin' <i>deep</i>! Look laak I c'u'dn't enjure hit nohow. I +reckon I does nebber be able to see so well 'cause I cry so stiddy dem +days. An' all de cry of my po' ol' hairt be'n, 'O Lawd, I don' no mo' ax +you to save his life, but, O Lawd, <i>don'</i> let 'im die cussin'! Fotch 'im +'ome! I kin b'ar hit to have 'im go, if he sho' goes whar he kin be good +an' be happy an' be safe; fo' I does know dat boy nev' did aim to be +mean.' An' w'en my hairt be'n broke wid longin' an' mis'ry, Sist' +Humphreys she come. She done holp me all fru; an' now she went to my +boy; he <i>hatter</i> see her. I don' know w'at she say; but she come back to +me an' say, 'Praise God, dat po' sinnah hab foun' peace an' joy—an' he +want his mudder!' An' I did come. An' he putt his po' haid on my knees +jes lak w'en he be'n a li'le boy an' uster laff 'bout de big +kin'lin'-pile he allers keep fo' his mammy. An' Sist' Humphreys, some +way she git dem jailer-men be so kin' an' tender to 'im, lak I cayn't +noways tell. An' he did die happy. De Lawd sustain him, an' he sustain +me. Blessed be de name of de Lawd, an' blessed be dat 'oman dat is his +ministah!"</p> + +<p>She sank down in her seat and wept quietly, while the impressionable +African temperament sent forth pious ejaculations: "Holp, Lawd!" "Fotch +comfort!" "Bless de mo'nahs!" The schoolmistress was in tears, and the +stalwart young man near her openly wiped his eyes. Brother Moore bent +his brows; even Brother Morrow winked hard: but Sister Susannah's +emotion was most in evidence; she was sobbing violently into a +pink-embroidered handkerchief. Presently she rose to her feet. Now +Susannah was the woman who had lured the wretched murderer through a +brutal passion to a brutal crime, and the eyes of the congregation were +focused upon her.</p> + +<p>"Bruddahs, sistahs," said Susannah, in her wonderful voice, with its +chords of plaintive music, which made her hearers grin out of sheer +emotion, "I nev' did aim to do dat po' young man hurt; but he sayd +t'ings to me, t'ings"—she sighed and hung her head—"he hadn't orter +have sayd, him bein' a married man; an' I be'n right mad at him, an' I +own up I done him right onchristian an' onmussiful, for I didn't show no +sympathy or even go see 'm hanged. Now, I do repent. But it ain't nare +preachin' of Sist' Humphreys done give me a brokin an' a contrary hairt. +Her scorchin' don' make me mo'n. Hit cakes up my hairt. She nev' did +have one single revival. Rev. Bulkely of de Ridge he does have a mighty +big one ever' spring; you kin hear de screeches 'mos' a mile! He tol' me +hisse'f he w'u'd be willin' to minister a spell to dis sorely tried +flock, an', mo'-ovah, he tol' me dat we-all <i>c'u'dn't</i> have Sist' +Humphreys nor no woman preach to us; for it be'n ag'in' de rule of de +Baptis' Chu'ch. Hit be'n forbid. We cayn't be Baptis' an' keep Sist' +Humphreys."</p> + +<p>With meek grace Susannah resumed her seat and the sheltering support of +the blacksmith's arm. She had won. Now that a way of escape was +opened,—a way, moreover, ending in a dazzling vista of a "big +revival,"—no sympathy for the Widow Macklin could induce Zion to face +the fiery chariots of the Seventh Commandment driven by Sister +Humphreys.</p> + +<p>In spite of the schoolmistress' eloquence and the stumbling speech of +two boys who tried to tell that Sister Humphreys had done a heap for +them, when the vote was put, only six of the forty-eight persons present +voted to retain the preacher. Brother Moore declined to vote.</p> + +<p>Susannah watched the downcast faces of Sister Humphreys' supporters +through her half-shut eyes and smiled her languid, mysterious smile.</p> + +<p>But of a sudden one of the two striplings who had spoken for Sister +Humphreys left his place by the window and ran to the door.</p> + +<p>With instant premonition of peril, the flock of Zion turned on the +benches. A deep intake of breath signified their dismay as there entered +a tall brown woman in widow's weeds. She cast a calm, full eye over the +faces under the lamplights—faces already stricken awry with fear; for, +notwithstanding their numbers and apparent strength of position, dread +of the pastor insisted, as light insists through closed eyelids.</p> + +<p>Sister Humphreys walked with no pause to the platform. Brother Morrow +was so short a man and she was so tall a woman that her handsome head +towered above his. She was a brown negro, but her lighter color and her +regular features and thinner, more sensitive lips were due to no +admixture of white blood; they came from a dash of the yellow races +mixed long before her time in the Old World, where her ancestors were +barbaric princes. She stood with the incomparable grace that is given +sometimes to the bearer of burdens, tall, erect, shapely. She spoke in a +mellow rich voice not raised a note above its speaking tone.</p> + +<p>"Is this heah a meetin'?" gently interrogated Sister Humphreys of +Brother Morrow, "or have you-all done aju'ned?"</p> + +<p>"We done aju'ned, sistah," Brother Morrow replied quickly, flinching +from a possible trap.</p> + +<p>"In that case," Sister Humphreys argued at once, "will you kindly take +you' seat an' let me speak fo' de las' time to Zion Baptis' Chu'ch?"</p> + +<p>It was impossible to refuse a hearing. Brother Morrow shuffled into a +lower seat.</p> + +<p>"My people,"—a vague, incomprehensible thrill of apprehension and +magnetic fascination stirred the attentive faces, all save the widow +Macklin's; hers was bent on her own withered, toil-crooked hands while +she prayed,—"I want to say, first, that I nev' did aim to keep <i>on</i> +hu'tin' you' feelin's. But I am 'bleeged to save you' souls. You-all +know how my po' husban' toiled an' prayed. Thar's ol' people who loved +him an' followed his teachin's, but they went to their reward, an' he +was lef' with a generation of young niggers who feared neither God nor +man nor the grand jury—lying, stealing, with no more morals than pigs +an' no great cleaner. It broken my po' ol' man's heart, so he hadn't no +strength to stand the breast complaint, so he died. The last night I +heard him praying for you, an' I come to him. When he looked up at me I +knowed I couldn't hold him; I knowed he ain't never again goin' look up +at me with the light in his eyes an' the love in his smile like he +looked then. An' I sayd to him, 'Silas, honey, don' you worry 'bout that +there wuthless flock of yours. <i>I'll</i> save 'em. I know the way. I sho' +do!' An' he believed me; because of his believing me his end was peace. +So you see, my people, I am 'bleeged to save you. I tol' him I know the +way; I do know it. You' pastor, who is a saint in heaven, done used +always the ways of gentleness. He preached the love of God, an' you +swallered it down, smiling and happy; an' it ain't done you-all no mo' +good than stick candy does do a person that done taken poison an' needs +wahm water an' mustard. What you-all needed didn't be'n loving kindness, +but the terrors of the law, an' not <i>strained</i>, neider. An' if it takes +the las' day of my pilgrimage, you'll git 'em till you <i>begin</i> to repent +an' show works <i>meet</i> for repentence. But when you <i>begin</i> to repent, +the word of mercy will come. 'Cause when the prodigal son be'n a <i>long +way off</i>, his father come a-runnin' to him. Now, hark to me: I went this +evening to the cunnel. He explained to me about the Baptis' +dis-<i>cip</i>-line." (A ripple of excitement in the audience.) "In +consequence, this chu'ch will hereayfter be the <i>Methodis'</i> Zion Chu'ch. +That is why I am speaking fo' the las' time to Zion <i>Baptis'</i> Chu'ch. +Ayfter to-night there won't be no Zion Baptis' Chu'ch. There ain't no +great differ<i>ence</i> in doctrine, an' the dis-<i>cip</i>-line is more +convenient. Any brother or sister desiring it, an' not in danger of +catching col', can be immersed. The cunnel an' I done talked this over; +an' he done rented this chu'ch-house to <i>me</i>. If the congregation ain't +satisfied, they got to take to the woods. I also got one word mo' to +say: it is that the work of grace in this community is a right smart +hampered by the evil doings of Sister Susannah Coffin."</p> + +<p>Susannah and her husband were both on their feet, both ready to speak; +but something in the attitude of the figure on the platform to which the +long lines of the mourning-veil gave a strange suggestion of sibylline +dignity, held speech away from them. Solemnly and not with any anger, +Sister Humphreys' eyes searched the eyes of the man and woman before +her, while the spectators held their breath. "Wherefo' it is bettah +ever' way," she said slowly, "that both her an' her husband go out from +us fo'evermo'. Bruddah Coffin, the cunnel has got another blacksmith, +an' you ain't got no mo' reason fo' stayin' on longer. And as fo' you, +<i>Sister</i>—"</p> + +<p>"I won't go!" shrilled Susannah, hysterically weeping; it was with no +pretense now. "You cayn't fo'ce me!"</p> + +<p>"You <i>will</i> go, <i>Sister</i>, fo' you don' wanter lose the young man you got +now. You will go; an' you will take him along of you; an' you will go +<i>so far</i> he cayn't heah no word of my sermons. Go in peace."</p> + +<p>Susannah faced about, writhing between fear and rage. "You cowards! you +ornery, pusillanimous cowards!" she flung back at the gaping black +faces. "You putt on dog when she ain't heah, but minute she lif's her +han', you cayn't make a riffle! Ba-h-h! S-sh!" she hissed at them like a +cat or a snake. "Come on, you fool nigger!" she jeered, pulling at her +bewildered husband's collar; and in this sorry fashion, but still with +her head high, she left Zion for ever.</p> + +<p>"An' now," concluded Sister Esmeralda Humphreys sedately, "let us all +try fo' to lead a bettah life. I shall preach nex' Sunday on the +<i>Seventh</i> Commandment, an' all them that feels they have broke that +commandment is at free liberty to stay away. I shall expec' to see all +the res' of you, even if 'tis fallin' weader. Let us all sing befo' we +go:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Blest be the tie that binds<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our hearts in Christian love;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The fellowship of kindred minds<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is like to that above.'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Brother Moore arose. "Sist' Humphreys," he announced, "you got de right +kin' o' gospil light in you. I cayn't jine in the singin' 'cause since I +got my store teef I ain't be'n able to cyar' a chune; but I want to do +sumfin de wuk er grace; an' I got up to say dat de nex' socherble +gatherin' I'll donate de lemons."</p> + +<p>"Dis meetin' accep's with t'anks," shouted Brother Morrow. "Now, le's +show our beloved pastor the clouds is swep' away! <i>All</i> sing!"</p> + +<p>And never had so noble a burst of melody wakened the echoes along the +moonlit road as that which made the colonel outside turn, smiling, in +his saddle.</p> + +<p>"She didn't need me," he mused. "Well, so much the better. I reckon they +need a good despot, and they've got one, all right."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_REAL_THING" id="THE_REAL_THING"></a>THE REAL THING</h2> + + +<p>The club had gone, save only the guest of the afternoon and a few +friends of the hostess, who lingered to congratulate her. It had been a +most successful meeting. The guest who had spoken was the president of a +southern club. The hearers were warm in their praises of the leisurely +music of her southern voice, the charm of her southern manner, so simple +and direct and sympathetic, her beauty, her grace, even of the finish of +her toilet. She had handled a weighty subject with a light touch (it was +the child labor of the south), and her husband being a very large +manufacturer, she had spoken out of experience as well as theory. +Moreover, she had shown a luminous common sense and a tolerant humor +such as did not always brighten such serious themes; and not only the +earnest students of the club, but the more flippant members, were +aroused to an unusual and captivated attention. Now they were loath to +let her go; pressing about, tarrying amid the teacups, and only +reluctantly faring forth as the maids appeared to remove the wreckage +of the feast. The hostess sank, weary but elated, into a chair by Miss +Clymer, the secretary, as the last silken skirt rustled away. Mrs. +Waite, the president, who was dallying with socialism, had evidently +introduced her new pet to the visitor, who listened politely.</p> + +<p>"After all," suggested Mrs. Clymer, more from the amiable design of +steering the conversation within safe limits than out of any craving to +exploit her own views, "after all, do we really know <i>how</i> these people +feel? Is there one of us, for example, who ever had an intimate friend +among them, a woman who worked with her hands?"</p> + +<p>"Madelaide Dunbar told me once," remarked the youngest club member, +"that she was fonder of her maid than of most of her friends."</p> + +<p>"Which maid?" inquired another. "The one who took her pearl necklace?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody took those pearls; Madelaide hid them herself, and forgot all +about it, and then found them in her soiled-handkerchief bag! But it +wasn't that one. This one had a little wave to her nose and her eyes +were near together."</p> + +<p>"Is she with Madelaide now?"</p> + +<p>"I think she married. Madelaide was buying teaspoons the other day, and +asking for rather light weight—maybe they were for her wedding +present."</p> + +<p>The South Carolinian smothered a smile. "Madelaide doesn't exactly +count," said the hostess.</p> + +<p>A new voice took up the theme, a sweet, rather diffident voice, to +which, nevertheless, the circle listened with an attention that was +almost distinction. She who spoke had been born in the little +mid-Western city, and there she had spent her early youth, but she had +married a rich man of the East, and was only a visitor to-day. The +Ridgelys were people of importance; and Constance Ridgely, the only +child, who never went to parties with boys, and only paid visits with +her mother, and finally disappeared into vistas of fashion and intimacy +with the peerage, was a person of mark. The more, that no splendid +transformation had altered her affection for the town, or her gentle, +almost shy modesty of manner. She flushed slightly now as she spoke. +"The best, the dearest girl friend I ever had, used to work with her +hands," said she.</p> + +<p>The sudden silence was almost the dumbness of dismay; but the hostess +sprang nimbly to the rescue with a murmur of "How picturesque!"</p> + +<p>"Why, of course," cried Mrs. Clymer. "I wish you would tell us of it. +You mean Nannie, don't you?"</p> + +<p>The Southerner leaned slightly forward, with a look of interest.</p> + +<p>"It is so long ago," said Mrs. Curtis, who had been Constance Ridgely, +"but something has made me think of Nannie all the afternoon. My +friendship with Nannie began almost thirty years ago, when Miss Arthur +kept the Pleasant Street kindergarten next to No. 3. The school was a +dear; but I remember so well the odd mixture of admiration and dread I +felt for the big, tumultuous public school. The boys used to make faces +at us, but they were so daring and they turned somersaults so nimbly! +And I was devoured with curiosity regarding the little girls who came to +school without their nurses. I thought it must be grand! One little girl +I singled out. She used to wear a red jersey and a red tam-o'-shanter. +She wasn't precisely pretty—according to my childish, wax-dolly +standard of beauty—but there was something fascinating in the way her +silky mop of brown hair flung itself to the wind, in the flash of her +brown eyes and her white teeth and the feather-down lightness of her +motions. She was as reckless of her frock as her bones—I was trained to +be very careful of both. The fearless rush with which she would slide +down the high bank or skin up a tree to the very awful, oscillating +top—I can't describe the awesome joy of seeing her! And she was so gay; +she had the sweetest, merriest laugh in the world. I loved it. Ah, how +many times did I glue my demure little face, which hid so many wild +fancies, to a certain knot-hole in that high, high fence of Miss +Arthur's, which all our mothers praised because it protected our +privacy, watching the boys and girls, and <i>my</i> girl run out to recess! +And, oh, the blow it was when the hour of recess at the kindergarten was +changed! Because the No. 3 boys stole Bennie Olmstead's roller skates, +and there was a combat, in which our injured and innocent boys were no +match for the wicked No. 3's; and Miss Betty, who attended to minor +matters of our physical comfort, being only the third kindergartner, who +was learning and received no salary, and of course had most of the +drudgery, washed at least four bloody noses and one bitten ear, and put +butchers' brown paper on half a dozen bruises, while the little girls +wept for sympathy and Bennie howled for his skates! I wept, too; but it +was because I could never any more look through the knot-hole for +Nannie. I knew her name, because I heard it so often. And then, in the +midst of my dejection, I met her. It was by accident. Tina had come for +me in the carriage, but Harland, having an errand at the harness shop, +had sent her on ahead, and we two were waiting for him on the +curb-stone. Of a sudden we heard an appalling outcry of canine yelps and +boyish yells, and I saw a sickening sight, a wretched little dog with a +tin can tied to his tail, which clattered against the bricks of the +sidewalk as he bounded; and in the can a huge fire-cracker spitting +fire! For sheer terror lest I should see the catastrophe, I covered up +my face. And <i>then</i> I heard my Nannie's voice, 'Here, doggie! Here, poor +doggie!' I let my little coward hands drop. I saw her welcome the +terrified beast to the shelter of her skirts, while with one swift curve +she plucked out the hissing red stick and hurled it with admirable +certainty of aim straight at the pursuers. As they scampered away, she +told them what she thought of them. Before they could rally, Harland +came to the rescue with the carriage; and Tina pushed both of us into +it. It was one of those double phaetons which we all used to have then. +I don't know whether Tina's mercy would have included the dog; but he +included himself with a flying leap into Nannie's lap."</p> + +<p>"And that was how you met Nancy?" said Mrs. Clymer. "You took her home, +didn't you, and found her conversation on the way very entertaining?"</p> + +<p>"Entrancing. She was full of thrilling knowledge of the world. She went +to school all alone. Her father was a carpenter, and she had a hatchet +and a plane and a brace and bit all her very own. Her mother was dead, +but she lived with her aunty, and she invited us most politely to get +out and see her aunty, and her papa's shop in the back yard. 'We got a +lovely home,' said Nannie."</p> + +<p>"Was it?" laughed the youngest clubwoman.</p> + +<p>"I thought it was; and, yes, I think it was, now. So specklessly, +radiantly tidy. A tiny house of wood, but painted freshly in gray and +white, and with a most wonderful garden. That belonged to Nannie's aunt. +Nannie said she could make anything with a root grow. I remember she was +out amid the phlox—such brilliant, luxuriant phlox as it was! She had +on a white apron, which the sun made dazzling. By a wonderful +coincidence, the aunt went to Tina's church, and Tina knew her; so Tina +let me go inside the house, and the aunt gave us coffee hot from the +stove, and delicious little spice cakes just out of the oven; and we +carried out some to Harland; and it was a full half-hour before Tina's +conscience stirred, and we had to go. By that time Nannie and I were +very well acquainted. Yet I had always been amazingly slow about making +friends.</p> + +<p>"After this episode Nannie and I always nodded and grinned when we saw +each other, going or coming from school. The next month Nannie appeared +at our Sunday school and announced that she would always attend there if +she might be in Miss Browning's class. Miss Browning taught my class. +Fancy my happiness! It impressed me very much the way Nannie could make +people do what she wanted. In summer another wonder happened. Nannie's +father built our new stable. Nannie used to bring him his luncheon +daily. Before the summer ended we were great chums."</p> + +<p>"But did your mother approve of your intimacy?" asked Mrs. Waite, who +was bewildered by conduct so opposed to her recollections of the +Ridgelys.</p> + +<p>"My mother was a wise woman. One day she sent me away on some pretext, +and she asked Nannie into the house and showed her pictures and talked +to her. Nannie adored my mother; and mamma never threw any obstacles in +the way of my seeing Nannie, while Tina was always willing to take me to +the Marshes; of course I never went alone. Tina thought Nannie one of +the nicest little girls in town; and she had sense enough to see that +while I was most often listless and shy with other girls, I was always +happy with Nannie. I don't think I can quite express her charm. She was +clever, but clever people have bored me. She was pretty, too; and she +was a true, delicate-minded little gentlewoman, though her father was a +mechanic and her aunt helped the family income by taking in fine +washing; but it was none of those things. I think it was that she was so +<i>wholesome</i>! Always cheerful. Always fearless. By consequence she was +the most absolutely truthful being I ever knew. Aunt Kate"—to Mrs. +Clymer—"you heard about the red paint? Shall I tell them?" At Mrs. +Clymer's assent she continued, "It was a truly terrible experience. I +was never so scared in my life; and I was always getting scared when I +was little. Nannie's next-door neighbor was a little girl named Elsa +Clarke, whose father was a painter by trade. He was an easy-tempered +man, and sometimes used to let us paint. If we daubed ourselves (which +we seldom failed to do), he would scrub us off with turpentine. I had +some painful scenes with Tina; for even if the paint was gone, the scent +of roses, you know. She was going to put a ban on the whole business, +when Nannie contrived some oilcloth aprons out of a discarded table +covering. This appeased her. One day Elsa's father gave us the dregs of +a can of red paint. Another painter who was doing some work in the shop +glowered at him, and from him to a white window sash that he had just +finished. He was a very gruff old fellow, of whom I stood in dreadful +fear. I thought he was very much such a looking man as the ogre in 'Jack +and the Beanstalk.' 'Them kids will mess up something if you give 'em +paint, you'll see,' the ogre growled, 'but they better keep clear of +<i>my</i> sash, if they know what's good for 'em!' With that he followed +Elsa's father out of the shop. We were left with our artistic fury. I +don't know exactly how the calamity came about, but Elsa wanted the +paint can which Nannie was using. If Elsa wanted anything and didn't get +it, she grew angry. It was her papa's shop and her papa's paint and she +had a right to have it, she <i>would</i> have it! 'But he gave it to us all,' +I protested, rather shocked at the squabble. Nannie didn't say anything; +she went on slapping the paint on a box in vast content. Then Elsa flew +into a rage and laid hold of Nannie. I laid hold of her. And a dog in +the household, hearing our loud voices, bounded joyously into the fray. +And somehow Nannie tripped! The paint, the red, red paint made a ghastly +cascade over the snowy whiteness of the ogre's window frame. Stupefied +by the enormity of our mishap, we stood staring miserably at each other. +Elsa burst into tears. As for me, I could hear my heart thump.</p> + +<p>"'He's coming back,' gasped Elsa, 'and papa ain't with him. I saw him +box a little girl's ears once jest for using his brush—let's run! Let's +<i>run</i>! He'll think it was Jumper!' (Jumper was wagging his tail and +affectionately sympathizing.)</p> + +<p>"'Jumper didn't do it,' said Nannie.</p> + +<p>"But Elsa was sprinting across the yard. My own terror seemed to clutch +me and propel me without volition; I was outside and hurrying after Elsa +before I realized. But at the sound of a dreadful, menacing voice I +turned my head. Nannie had not fled. She was facing the brutal man who +had boxed a little girl's ears; and he was demanding who had done +<i>That</i>! The rumble of thunder was in his deep tones. I ran back; but I +was in such a panic I had to hold on to the bench to keep me on my feet. +Elsa, from the fortress of her kitchen, screamed that Jumper had done +it.</p> + +<p>"'Hay?' exploded the man. It seemed to me an appalling interjection.</p> + +<p>"'Jumper didn't do it,' said Nannie. 'I fell and the paint splashed. +I'll paint it over for you, all right.'</p> + +<p>"'<i>You!</i>' the ogre bellowed, lifting his fist in a passion. 'You've done +enough mischief!' I had been trying to speak, but I was so scared that +my mouth only made little choking sounds, but now I did sob, 'Please, +mister, we <i>made</i> her do it, Elsa and I. Elsa caught her arm and I +caught Elsa's arm—I'll <i>pay</i> you for it!' I had my little purse out in +my trembling fingers and would have given it all to him. Not Nannie. 'It +can't take you an hour to paint it over,' said she. 'Will you take +twenty-five cents—that's an hour's wages—and let <i>me</i> paint it? I'm +awful sorry it happened.'</p> + +<p>"'I've a mind to lick you both,' grumbled the man.</p> + +<p>"But Nannie didn't flinch; she looked into his face, repeating, 'We're +awful sorry; and we'll pay you. It wouldn't do any good to spank us; and +I'll paint something else first, to show you I won't daub the glass.'</p> + +<p>"'Well, you <i>are</i> a cool one,' said the man. I could hardly believe my +eyes; he was grinning. Actually he did let Nannie show him how neatly +she painted; and the end of it was, he taught us a great deal about +painting."</p> + +<p>"Didn't Nannie think you were plucky to run back?" said the Southerner. +"Truly, Mrs. Curtis, I think you were braver than she!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Curtis shook her head. "I couldn't have done it but for Nannie. +Merely being in her presence stiffened my limp courage. I was absurdly +timid."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't wonder you were fond of her," cried the youngest member. +"What were her people like?"</p> + +<p>"Her mother was dead and she was an only child. Her father was the +kindest, gentlest of men, with a placid shrewdness such as one may draw +from life rather than books. He loved beautiful things. Why, he taught +me more about the loveliness of shadows and trees than the great +artists, since. And I recognize now how fine was his passion for what he +called in his homely way 'a job good enough not to need putty.'"</p> + +<p>"I remember Marsh well," said Mrs. Clymer. "He <i>was</i> a wonderful workman +and a particularly considerate person to have about. He always cleaned +up his shavings. I never saw the aunt. She was a nice sort, too, wasn't +she, Connie?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed she was! She was a widow with three children. The youngest, as +Nannie told me with somber importance, was 'bedrid'; she hadn't walked +for three years, and the doctor said she 'never would walk in this +world'; but Mr. Marsh had made her a most ingenious wheeled chair, which +was always at the window, with her little pale, smiling face above it. +Then there was little Ned, who was four, and Oscar, who was working his +way through college. They all spoke of Oscar with deep respect. He was +awfully clever, I was sure; and his mother had a handsome photograph of +him on the mantel, under his father's picture."</p> + +<p>"That was Jedidiah Marsh," explained Mrs. Waite. "I remember him. He was +a very handsome man and a plumber. He wasn't very much of a plumber as I +recall him; but he was an inventor always going to patent something, +which always turned out to have been discovered before. Finally he did +put some machine on the market, and died leaving the business in a +tangle, and lots of debts, which his widow and Caleb Marsh paid off to +the last cent of interest, although it took them years to do it."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. Clymer; "he told Mr. Clymer once that maybe he wasn't +legally liable for Jed's debts, but there never was a Marsh yet that +anybody could find fault with for doing anything dishonest; and they +shouldn't begin with Jed, who was all right, whether his washing machine +was or wasn't. I have a sneaking idea myself that Caleb Marsh, who was +shrewd in his simple way, did not take Jed's wonderful genius seriously; +but Jed's wife did. Once I carried Nannie home when she had been to see +you, Connie; and I remember their neat little parlor, with the pictures +of Lincoln and Grant and the Rogers groups and some really fine, simple +furniture which Marsh had made himself. But I remember best the two +portraits over the mantel—a pretty girl I should have known was +Nannie's mother, only an enlarged photograph, but very well done, and an +oil portrait of Jedidiah, which had been done from a photograph by the +gifted daughter of a neighbor, who was learning to paint. It was pretty +awful. I wonder didn't Caleb Marsh think so, too."</p> + +<p>"If he did, he never said so, you may be sure," said Mrs. Curtis +quickly; "and somehow I have a kind of affection for that picture, too. +There were always flowers before both of the portraits; perhaps in +winter no more than some sprigs of lemon verbena or a pot of ivy, but +always some green thing. Do you know, the pictures, and the flowers +always before them, that little touch of faithful love, added an +intangible and plaintive charm to the homely attraction of the house. I +did love that room. It was so sunny, so spotless and peaceful, with the +geraniums and the heliotrope in the window, and the white muslin +curtains. There was a rug with a very bright and fierce-looking tiger on +it before the fireplace (Mr. Marsh <i>would</i> have a fireplace), and Mr. +Marsh's grandmother's andirons glittered behind the big peacock fan in +summer time; and there used to float in through the window the lovely +faint odors of old-fashioned flowers—spice pinks and sweetbrier roses +and lemon verbenas."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Clymer sighed. "I wish there were a better ending to the story."</p> + +<p>"Does it end sadly?" asked the Southerner. "Did the little girls grow up +and forget each other?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Curtis, who was looking absently over the lawn and the flowers, +down the shady street, on which longer and warmer shadows were creeping, +back perhaps in a reverie of her childhood, started a little; the +sensitive blush which years in the world had not given her power to +control, mantled her fair cheek; she turned and gave the Southerner's +light smile a serious, almost solemn gaze. When she spoke it was with a +gentle coldness, as if she felt she had been too frank with +strangers—at least so the hostess interpreted it.</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> didn't forget; and we were not separated for several years. I went +to the high school with Nannie; it was really I who went, for my +entreaties overcame my mother's aversion to the clamorous life of a +public school. We were so happy; and when I had the trouble with my +eyes, Nannie used to read my lessons to me. She learned a whole +different course so she could help me. You see, she was awfully clever. +The more I knew of other girls, the finer Nannie seemed to me. The—the +difference between the classes, the real thing which keeps them apart, +is their lack of a common ground of experience. They haven't anything to +talk about. I should have been as shy with another girl who worked for +her living as she would have been with me, but I knew Nannie so well—I +never knew any other woman friend so well, and only one man."</p> + +<p>"Whom you married?" said the Southerner with an apologetic accent.</p> + +<p>"Yes, poor dear," laughed Mrs. Curtis. "It wasn't treating him well, +perhaps, but he brought it on himself."</p> + +<p>"Did you go through the high school with your friend?" Mrs. Waite's deep +voice was heard again. "But no, surely you weren't a graduate?"</p> + +<p>"No; we went to Europe in my second year. I cried myself ill when we +parted. My only comfort was that Nannie and I had promised each other +that we would go to college together. Nannie was already earning money +by her carving. Still—it was bitter. Youth can suffer so easily and so +horribly!"</p> + +<p>"Yet," said Mrs. Clymer, "though I admit you were a woeful object, +Connie, I thought at the time, and I think now, that Nannie suffered the +most. She didn't shed a tear that morning when she came up to your house +to say good-by; and I went with you to the depot; but there was a look +in her eyes which haunted me. And when she stood in the driveway as we +rolled away, watching the carriage, and you turned and she waved her +hand and smiled—I felt as if I had seen a surgical operation."</p> + +<p>"And then? Oh, Mrs. Curtis, that wasn't the end of it?" cried the +youngest member.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. I missed Nannie amid all the change and excitement; and I wrote +her often. At first she wrote me as often. Now I can appreciate how +hard she must have tried to collect the little items of news likely to +interest me. And they were all about girls whom she barely knew, and +things remote from her. Somehow she found out about everything. It was +she who first wrote about when Annie Baylor had scarlet fever, and she +who told first of that astounding happening, Mary Taine Willis' +engagement. Mary was only three years older than we; it was almost like +one of us being engaged. And her reports about the house and the grounds +and the horses, my father said, were clearer and more useful than those +of the man in charge. But somehow during the last year the letters grew +a little less open-hearted and affectionate; a queer film of constraint +froze over them, if I may call it that. And on my part I was conscious +of a mingling of dread in my delight at the prospect of seeing Nannie +when we had come. I knew she would be the same faithful, dear girl whom +I should always love; but my Nannie was more—she was the leader, she +had charm; I admired her so tremendously, I wondered should I admire her +in the same way. Maybe you think that was horrid of me?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know"—the Southern woman spoke before the others—"I know it +was natural. Well, did you find it different? <i>Had</i> she changed?"</p> + +<p>"I don't remember; I only remember that, in the first half-hour, my only +fear was lest she should be disappointed in <i>me</i>. I admired everything +about her; her very clothes were so dainty; and I had expected to be +superior there, I fancy. But it wasn't that; it was my feeling that she +was finer and stronger than my other friends. You know the pretty +clothes, the pretty manners, are only signs of the real thing; and +Nannie had the real thing, I was sure. But there was always that +constraint about her. You would not believe," said Mrs. Curtis gently to +the Southerner, "you would not believe how absurdly this intangible +reserve of hers hurt me."</p> + +<p>"I think it was very nasty of her, myself," laughed the Southerner; "but +did it never occur to you that some other friend of yours might have +been making mischief? You were a very desirable chum, some one might +have filled your friend's head with notions of how different were your +classes and walks in life; and how you were too loyal and kind hearted +to desert or repel an old friend, but you might find such ties a drag on +you. If that happened she would be a little morbid about making +advances. She was probably proud in her own way."</p> + +<p>"There was Elsa Clarke," Mrs. Clymer suggested; "she was always trying +to be intimate with you; and if ever there was a sly little climber, it +was she."</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute!" exclaimed the hostess. "I am beginning to reminisce, +myself. Wasn't there a boy in the Marsh family, Nannie Marsh's brother +or cousin? Yes, her cousin, Oscar. Why, to be sure. He came back from +college and was a clerk in Norris Blanchard's store, and fell madly in +love with Gladys Blanchard. She treated him abominably, they did say. +Led him on, and then married that young man from Massachusetts; and +Oscar shot himself in the front yard while they were standing up under +the floral bell."</p> + +<p>"How ghastly," murmured the youngest member, "to kill himself—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it didn't kill him, though they thought he would die. I don't know +but his uncle wondered sometimes if it wouldn't have been better. For +after he got up he took to drink and notions—wild, anarchistic, +socialistic—"</p> + +<p>"He couldn't take to them both at the same time," Mrs. Waite interrupted +with fervor. "They are absolutely antagonistic, socialism—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, to be sure"—the hostess hastily turned a conversational +switch before the collision—"of course I didn't mean to say he believed +in <i>both</i>, only that he took to making fierce speeches at the populist +meetings, and wrote articles for the papers, girding at the rich. And he +used to get drunk. The poor Marshes felt awfully. I shouldn't be a bit +surprised if that was what made Nannie a little shy and stiff. Did she +tell you about Oscar's tragedy?"</p> + +<p>"Not until I found it out myself. I somehow had the feeling that I +wasn't so gladly welcomed as I used to be. And Mrs. Marsh was changed +and saddened. But the little chair was no longer by the window; and I +knew the mother grieved. Dear little Hattie, always so patient and so +pleased with every little thing. One day Nannie was walking home with +me, and we met Oscar. After that I knew. I will own up, when I saw his +condition, I—I told you I was a coward—I simply turned and ran away. +To be sure, Nannie had seen him also, and said suddenly, 'Good-by, +Connie; I can't go any farther'; but that is only a mitigation, not an +excuse. I was so ashamed of myself I hardly slept all night. Nannie was +coming to see me the next afternoon. I was awfully afraid she wouldn't +come, and almost as afraid to see her when she did come. And when she +began to talk, I couldn't think of anything better than to kiss her, +with my eyes shut—as if I were going to have a tooth pulled! We both +cried. It gave me a weird, earthquaky sensation to see Nannie cry. I had +never, through all our years of intimacy, seen her cry. But almost +immediately she pulled herself together, and said, 'Well, I'm not going +to stand it. Daddy has found a place in the country where Oscar can go +and learn the business and then be a partner. If he has a little +property of his own he will stop wanting to overturn things so bad. +So—he's going; and he did seem to feel bad about making aunty so +wretched; and he's promised to give up drinking <i>and</i> talking; so I +don't know what I'm crying about, unless it is having to give up going +to college with you! But it's only putting it off for a year. I'll make +it all back by then; I'm going into the furniture factory this summer.' +But when I saw the family I realized for the first time what this +education, which we take so lightly, indeed often with weariness, means +to those who have to deny themselves for it. The love of it was a +passion with Nannie's people. They seemed to think a college was a +wonderful place, where one learned all the secrets of life and art and +knowledge. When they spoke of it their voices would drop reverentially, +as they dropped when they spoke of heaven. To have this glory for Nannie +put off another year seemed cruel to them. 'Well,' I suggested to Mr. +Marsh, 'at least it will be I who will have to miss her, and not you.' +'It's wicked to take such comfort,' said he, 'but I guess I can't help +taking it a mite. Nannie is so very comforting and pleasant to have +around.'"</p> + +<p>"He certainly was a nice man," said Mrs. Clymer. "Do you remember him +beaming at Nannie's graduation? I thought I should be bored, but I +wasn't; and you, my dear, were a little drama of delight by yourself, so +scared when she began, and so radiant presently; and darting such +furious glances at Elsa Clarke."</p> + +<p>"Well," retorted Mrs. Curtis, "wasn't she whispering all through the +essay to a boy she had with her! But she was on the stage afterward, +before any of us, and she had sent Nannie a most impressive and +expensive bouquet; and she was hugging her and making joyful noise over +her when my father and I came up. Father paid her the prettiest of +compliments and called her Miss Nannie. Her own father and her aunt and +Ned stood by, with Oscar, who had come in from the country for this +important occasion. Mr. Marsh did not say a word. But I never knew +before how many different kinds of smiles a man could smile. And +somehow, after that evening, although Nannie was so little affected by +the glamour of it all, I was provoked with her; somehow, she was more +like her old gay self with me. Why do you suppose, Mrs. Atherton?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose," ventured the Southerner, smiling, "because she felt that +her little triumph (no doubt she overvalued it, in spite of the level +head you give her); she felt it made her a little better worth your +friendship. But—what happened next? You went to college?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I went; and we had to have that odious little Elsa with us, +because she was going, too. I was most dolefully homesick; and oh, how I +missed Nannie! I wrote her, if I weren't so afraid of the ferocious +cabmen who roared so at one, I should run away, and it was all her +fault—"</p> + +<p>"Your father did want—" Mrs. Curtis cut Mrs. Clymer's sentence off with +a quick "Ah, they wouldn't accept; they were quite as proud as we. +However, the time dragged itself away, and I went home for the Christmas +holidays. I found Nannie in very different circumstances, but quite as +cheerful. She was working in the factory, and earning good wages, and +she had all sorts of racy experiences with human nature to relate. How +the whole family hung on my college stories! And Oscar was doing well, +and becoming cheerful, and they could all talk proudly about him again! +They comforted me as much as my own people, and I went back with a show +of courage. Nannie wrote me every week. I don't know just when I began +to feel a change in the letters, not in their affection or their gaiety; +but she no longer told me so much about her studies (for she wanted to +keep up with me and enter in the second year); after a while she hardly +mentioned them; yet she <i>had</i> shown the keenest interest. My people came +on east for me that summer, and as we made several visits, it was late +in the summer when we came home. Although I had noticed this change in +Nannie's letters, I had not dreamed what it really meant; and I was not +prepared for the shock I received. She greeted me with all her old +affection; but at my first inquiry about her savings, she answered, +'Yes, I have enough—if I go.' 'If!' I cried. 'Don't be talking of +if's!' 'Indeed, I ought not,' she answered very gravely, 'for there is +no if about it; I know that I oughtn't to go. It isn't fair to the +others.' 'But they want you to go!' I pleaded in inexpressible dismay. +'It will be the awfulest disappointment!' It seems to me that I still +remember every word of her reply. She said that she knew it, that her +education had been the whole family's day dream. But that, in the first +place, it would be harder than they would admit for them to have her go. +'If it were only this it would be hard,' she said, 'but we could bear +it; but—it isn't. What they couldn't bear would be to—to have me grow +away from them. I <i>couldn't</i>, truly; but—you know Elsa is at home now. +She talks of nothing but her college, her college friends, her high +marks at exams, her basketball team, and all that. She is always +complaining of her own people's plain ways. Connie, I can see so plainly +that when she has finished the education which her parents are pinching +themselves to give her she will use it to establish herself as far as +possible from them.'</p> + +<p>"'Oh, Elsa?' I sniffed. 'I can believe anything of Elsa. <i>You</i> couldn't +be so horrid and snobbish!'</p> + +<p>"'She doesn't mean to be horrid, or know she is; she speaks of her +mother with tears in her eyes. It is only that she has gone into another +world from them, and wants to stay there. I don't want to go into any +other world than my father's and the others'. I don't want any better +taste than they have! I want better taste and I want them to have it, +but I want us all to get it together. Whatever I get I want to share +with them. I couldn't if I went away. I used to think I could bring it +all back in a lump; but I know better now. You can't pot culture and +give it away as you choose; you have to grow it from the seed. What I am +afraid of is that they should not get what I get. So far they have; why, +aunty knows more of Virgil from hearing me translate aloud than I do +myself; and dad is wonderful in geometry, and he has taught <i>me</i> to love +Charles Lamb, whom he loved just from the extracts in the literature. +First he bought the Essays, then I bought him the Letters. It is that +way with so many things. You know'—she laughed—'you know we have some +long-legged Fra Angelico angels instead of the pictures of Lincoln and +Grant; they are in other frames, which my father made, and hang in the +hall; and the Rogers groups have gone up-stairs, and, Connie, Oscar and +dad and I have had a real artist paint a pastel of Uncle Jed as a +present for aunty, and we have it in the parlor now; and nobody's +feelings are hurt; we were all pleased together. That is the right way. +I can't take any other way. Not even to be with you, Connie. No, dear, I +can't go.' I am afraid I made it harder for her with my selfish grief, +and her father almost frantically opposed the sacrifice, he who was +always so tranquil; and Oscar was angry, and Ned cried. Oh, we gave poor +Nannie a frightful quarter of an hour; but she did not go."</p> + +<p>"What became of her? How did it turn out in the end?" asked the youngest +member.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," answered Mrs. Curtis.</p> + +<p>"Did her conduct make a breach between you?" Mrs. Waite showed the dawn +of disapproval on her brow.</p> + +<p>"Surely not. But in my next year we went abroad unexpectedly, on +account of my mother's health. We stayed four years; and while we were +away, my grandfather died, and the house here was sold. At first we both +wrote often; but, as the years went by, insensibly we wrote less often. +Both of us, I suppose. That same film of constraint was over Nannie's +letters that had been over her manner before. Then it went away. This +time it came, and did not go away. Then the letters ceased altogether. +When I—when I found I was going to marry Mr. Curtis, I wrote Nannie the +very first letter. There was no answer. I wrote again—not once, but +many times. After a long while my letters came back to me, unopened, +with the post-office inscription, 'Not to be found.' I wrote to Elsa, +who was home. I asked her for Nannie's address; for some word about her. +She wrote back that the Marshes had sold their house after Oscar's +trouble, to raise money for his defense; and they had all moved away, +she believed, to Dakota, but she didn't know where. She said Nannie +avoided everybody."</p> + +<p>"And what <i>was</i> Oscar's trouble?" demanded Mrs. Waite. "I know there was +some iniquitous blunder of the law, but what exactly was it?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Clymer, who had been watching Mrs. Curtis attentively, explained +while the other woman seemed searching for the right words. "Oscar was +convicted of burning the store of a rival merchant who had treated him +very treacherously. He had lost his temper, and threatened the man. What +he meant, he explained, was to give him a good hiding. But he was +overheard; and when, that night, the store burned, and Oscar was +discovered to have gone there, suspicion lighted on him. Of course, all +his former wild actions were brought up against him, although he had +quite reformed. There had been a number of incendiary fires, and you +know how people always want <i>somebody</i> punished; poor Oscar Marsh was +sent to the penitentiary, after his people had spent almost their last +dollar to defend him. They moved away, and all trace of them was lost. +It is a wretched story. And really, Oscar was innocent. A year afterward +(I always credited it mostly to Nannie) it was discovered that the man +had set fire to the store himself. Nannie got the insurance company on +his trail. He fled. The governor pardoned Oscar. And that is all any of +us know."</p> + +<p>"It is a sad story," sighed Mrs. Waite. "I think she did wrong not to +educate herself."</p> + +<p>"I think she did quite right," said Mrs. Curtis.</p> + +<p>"But as it was, the sacrifice was so useless," urged the youngest +member. "She didn't lift them; they only all went under the waves +together."</p> + +<p>"Not necessarily," objected the Southerner. "Why be so dismal? Why not +be cheerful? They had their good trade and their good sense and their +love for each other. I am going to suppose that those things are more +than money, and that they went to work in a new place, rose little by +little, and then more and more, and are all prosperous and respected, +and Miss Nannie has married the young superintendent of her new factory, +who has now risen to be the main partner; he is of an old though +impoverished family—"</p> + +<p>"You think so much of family in the South, don't you?" interjected Mrs. +Waite.</p> + +<p>"Well, we have so many old and good but impoverished families there, you +see. I think the chances are she married such a boy; and they have made +money, and Oscar has a nice plantation near them, and is married to a +sweet little Southern girl, and his mother adores the baby; and Ned +goes to college, and Mr. Marsh is a prosperous builder, high in the +Scottish Rite, and growing used to his dress coat—"</p> + +<p>"But," said the hostess, "you are having them all south; they went to +Dakota."</p> + +<p>"Why, so they did! I forgot," cried the Southerner. "Maybe it was a +mistake; and anyhow, they would have done better to go south!"</p> + +<p>Everybody laughed and Mrs. Curtis' fine eyes lit up. "I perceive you are +a psychic, Mrs. Atherton," she said gaily. "And they <i>did</i> go south. +Being a psychic, can't you tell me something? Why didn't Nannie answer +my letters?"</p> + +<p>The Southerner dropped her chin and looked upward in the pose of a seer; +no one noticed Mrs. Clymer's sudden movement or the ripple of quick +emotion in Mrs. Curtis' face. "That's easy," she responded. "I see a +slim girl with dark hair walking with another girl who answers to the +name of Elsa. The dark-haired girl gives her a letter, stamped, but not +addressed. She has sent a letter to her friend, which has not reached +her. Letters sometimes do not reach people who are hurrying through +Egypt or—or other places. This letter she gives to Elsa, who is to +marry the cousin of an acquaintance of the friend. She is to post +it—<i>voilà tout!</i>"</p> + +<p>"She <i>was</i> engaged to Bertha Miller's cousin; and she did try awfully +hard to be intimate with Constance," whispered Mrs. Clymer in the +hostess' ear; while everybody laughed again.</p> + +<p>"He drinks like a fish," returned the hostess irrelevantly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mrs. Atherton, don't stop, tell us more," begged the youngest +member. "I feel so interested in Nannie. Has she any children?" The +youngest member had just acquired the most remarkable baby in the world.</p> + +<p>"I reckon," jested the Southerner, "two or three. Two boys, let us +say—"</p> + +<p>"How nice!" cried Mrs. Curtis, coloring prettily. "<i>I</i> have two boys."</p> + +<p>"And—I think a little girl, whom she has named Constance, Constance +Ridgely—Are we going, Mrs. Clymer?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Clymer laid a kindly hand on her shoulder, saying, "Yes, my dear, I +must go; but as I am stopping on my way, I shall walk; and Constance +will take care of you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Aunt Kate," said Mrs. Curtis, so low the others—except the +Southerner—did not hear. They were alone in the carriage before she +made any sign of that which had stirred her profoundly. Then she turned +on her companion a pale face and eyes that were swimming in tears.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear," said the Southerner, whose lips were smiling, but whose own +eyes were wet.</p> + +<p>"Oh—<i>Nannie!</i>" cried Constance Ridgely. And the faces of the two women +were strangely like the faces of the two little girls who had found each +other years and years ago.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_OLD_PARTISAN" id="THE_OLD_PARTISAN"></a>THE OLD PARTISAN</h2> + +<h3>A STORY OF THE REPUBLICAN CONVENTION OF 1896</h3> + + +<p>I sat so far back in the gallery that my opinion of my delegate friend +dwindled with every session. Nevertheless my unimportant seat had its +advantages. I could see the vast assembly and watch the throbbing of the +Republican pulse if I could not hear its heart-beats. Therefore, +perhaps, I studied my neighbors more than I might study them under +different circumstances. The great wooden hall had its transient and +unsubstantial character stamped on every bare wooden joist and +unclinched nail. It was gaudy with flags and bunting and cheap +portraits. There were tin bannerettes crookedly marshaled on the floor, +to indicate the homes of the different states. A few delegates, +doubtless new to the business and over-zealous, were already on the +floor, but none of the principals were visible. They were perspiring and +arguing in those committee rooms, those hotel lobbies and crowded hotel +rooms where the real business of the convention was already done and +neatly prepared for presentation to the nation. I had nothing to keep me +from studying my neighbors. In front of me sat two people who had +occupied the same seats at every session that I was present, a young +girl and an old man. The girl wore the omnipresent shirt waist (of +pretty blue and white tints, with snowy cuffs and collar), and her green +straw hat was decked with blue cornflowers, from which I inferred that +she had an eye on the fashions. Her black hair was thick and glossy +under the green straw. I thought that she had a graceful neck. It was +very white. Whiter than her face, which kept a touch of sunburn, as if +she were often out in the open air. Somehow I concluded that she was a +shop-girl and rode a wheel. If I were wrong it is not likely that I +shall ever know.</p> + +<p>The old man I fancied, was not so old as he looked; his delicate, +haggard profile may have owed its sunken lines and the dim eye to +sickness rather than to years. He wore the heavy black broadcloth of the +rural politician, and his coat sagged over his narrow chest as if he had +left his waistcoat at home. On his coat lapel were four old-fashioned +Blaine badges. Incessantly he fanned himself.</p> + +<p>"It can't be they ain't going to nominate him to-day?" he asked rather +than asserted, his voice breaking on the higher notes, the mere wreck of +a voice.</p> + +<p>"Oh, maybe later," the girl reassured him.</p> + +<p>"Well, I wanted to attend a Republican convention once more before I +died. Your ma would have it I wasn't strong enough; but I knew better; +you and I knew better; didn't we, Jenny?"</p> + +<p>She made no answer except to pat his thin, ribbed brown hand with her +soft, white, slim one; but there was a world of sympathy in the gesture +and her silent smile.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what your ma said when she came down-stairs and found the +letter, and us gone," he cackled with the garrulous glee of a child +recounting successful mischief; "made me think of the times when you was +little and I stole you away for the circus. Once, your pa thought you +was lost—'member? And once, you had on your school dress and you'd tore +it—she did scold you that time. But we had fun when they used to let me +have money, didn't we, Jenny?"</p> + +<p>"Well, now I earn money, we have good times, too, grandpa," said Jenny, +smiling the same tender, comprehending smile.</p> + +<p>"We do that; I don't know what I would do 'cept for you, lambie, and +this is—this is a grand time, Jenny, you look and listen; it's a great +thing to see a nation making its principles and its president—and such +a president!"</p> + +<p>He half turned his head as he spoke, with a mounting enthusiasm, thus +bringing his flushing face and eager eyes—no longer dim—into the focus +of his next neighbor's bright gray eyes. The neighbor was a young man, +not very young, but hardly to be called elderly, of an alert bearing and +kindly smile.</p> + +<p>"I think him a pretty fair man myself," said the other with a jocose +understatement; "I come from his town."</p> + +<p>What was there in such a simple statement to bring a distinctly anxious +look into the young girl's soft eyes? There it was; one could not +mistake it.</p> + +<p>"Well!" said the old man: there was a flattering deference in his voice. +"Well, well. And—and maybe you've seen him lately?" The quavering +tones sharpened with a keener feeling; it was almost as if the man were +inquiring for some one on whom he had a great stake of affection. "How +did he look? Was he better, stronger?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he looked elegant," said the Ohio man, easily, but with a +disconcerted side glance at the girl whose eyes were imploring him.</p> + +<p>"I've been a Blaine man ever since he was run the time Bob Ingersoll +nominated him," said the old man, who sighed as if relieved. "I was at +that convention and heard the speech—"</p> + +<p>"Ah, that was a speech to hear," said a man behind, and two or three men +edged their heads nearer.</p> + +<p>The old Republican straightened his bent shoulders, his winter-stung +features softened and warmed at the manifestation of interest, his voice +sank to the confidential undertone of the narrator.</p> + +<p>"You're right, sir, right; it was a magnificent speech. I can see him +jest as he stood there, a stoutish, good-looking man, smooth-faced, his +eye straight ahead, and an alternate that sat next me—I was an +alternate; I've been an alternate four times; I could have been a +delegate, but I says, 'No, abler men than me are wanting it; I'm willing +to fight in the ranks.' But I wished I had a vote, a free vote that +day, I tell you. The alternate near me, he says, 'You'll hear something +fine now; I've heard him speak.'"</p> + +<p>"You did, too, I guess."</p> + +<p>"We could hear from the first minute. That kinder fixed our attention. +He had a mellow, rich kind of voice that melted into our ears. We found +ourselves listening and liking him from the first sentence. At first he +was as quiet as a summer breeze, but presently he began to warm up, and +the words flowed out like a stream of jewels. It was electrifying: it +was thrilling, sir; it took us off our feet before we knew it, and when +he came to the climax, those of us that weren't yelling in the aisles +were jumping up and down on our chairs! I know I found myself prancing +up and down on my own hat on a chair, swinging somebody else's hat and +screaming at the top of my voice, with the tears running down my cheeks. +God! sir, there were men there on their feet cheering their throats out +that had to vote against Blaine afterward—had to, because they were +there instructed—no more free will than a checked trunk!" The light +died out of his face. "Yes, sir, a great speech; never so great a +speech, whoever made it; but it did no good, he wasn't nominated, and +when we did nominate him we were cheated out of our victory. Well, we'll +do better this day."</p> + +<p>"We will that," said the other man, heartily; "McKinley—"</p> + +<p>"You'll excuse me"—the old man struck in with a deprecating air, yet +under the apology something fiercely eager and anxious that glued the +hearer's eyes to his quivering old face—"You'll excuse me. I—I am a +considerable of an invalid and I don't keep the run of things as I used +to. You see, I live with my daughter, and you know how women folks are, +fretting lest things should make you sick, and my girl she worries so, +me reading the papers. Fact is I got a shock once, an awful shock"—he +shivered involuntarily and his dim eyes clouded—"and it worried her +seeing me read. Hadn't ought to; it don't worry Jenny here, who often +gets me a paper, quiet like; but you know how it is with women—it's +easier giving them their head a little—and so I don't see many papers, +and I kinder dropped off. It seems queer, but I don't exactly sense it +about this McKinley. Is he running against Blaine or jest for vice?"</p> + +<p>The girl, under some feminine pretext of dropping and reaching for her +handkerchief, threw upward a glance of appeal at the interlocutor. +Hurriedly she stepped into the conversation. "My grandfather read a +false report about—about Mr. Blaine's sickness, and he was not well at +the time, and it brought on a bad attack."</p> + +<p>"I understand," said the listener, with a grave nod of his head and +movement of his eyes in the girl's direction.</p> + +<p>"But about McKinley?" the old man persisted.</p> + +<p>"He's for vice-president," the girl announced, her eyes fixed on the +hesitating man from Canton. I have often admired the intrepid fashion in +which a woman will put her conscience at a moral hedge, while a man of +no finer spiritual fiber will be straining his eyes to find a hole +through which he can crawl.</p> + +<p>"McKinley is not opposed to Blaine, is he?" she asked the man.</p> + +<p>"The Republican party has no name that is more loved than that of James +G. Blaine," said the man, gravely.</p> + +<p>"That's so, that's so!" the old partisan assented eagerly; "to my mind +he's the logical candidate."</p> + +<p>The Canton man nodded, and asked if he had ever seen Blaine.</p> + +<p>"Once, only once. I was on a delegation sent to wait on him and ask him +to our town to speak—he was in Cincinnati. I held out my hand when my +turn came, and the chairman nearly knocked the breath out of me by +saying, 'Here's the man gave more to our campaign fund and worked harder +than any man in the county, and we all worked hard for you, too.' Well, +Mr. Blaine looked at me. You know the intent way he looks. He has the +most wonderful eyes; look right at you and seem to bore into you like a +gimlet. I felt as if he was looking right down into my soul, and I tell +you I was glad, for I choked up so I couldn't find a word, not a word, +and I was ready and fluent enough in those days, too, I can tell you; +but I stood there filling up, and squeezed his hand and gulped and got +red, like a fool. But he understood. 'I have heard of your loyalty to +Republican principles, Mr. Painter,' says he, in that beautiful voice of +his that was like a violin; and I burst in—I couldn't help it—'It +ain't loyalty to Republican principles, it's to you.' I said that right +out. And he smiled, and said he, 'Well, that's wrong, but it isn't for +me to quarrel with you there, Mr. Painter,' and then they pushed me +along; but twice while the talk was going on I saw him look my way and +caught his eye, and he smiled, and when we were all shaking hands for +good-by he shook hands with a good firm grip, and said he, 'Good-by, Mr. +Painter; I hope we shall meet again.'"</p> + +<p>The old man drew a long sigh. "Those few moments paid for everything," +he said. "I've never seen him since. I've been sick and lost money. I +ain't the man I was. I never shall be put on any delegation again, or be +sent to any convention; but I thought if I could only go once more to a +Republican convention and hear them holler for Blaine, and holler once +more myself, I'd be willinger to die. And I told Tom Hale that, and he +and Jenny raised the money. Yes, Jenny, I'm going to tell—he and Jenny +put off being married a bit so's I could go, and go on plenty of money. +Jenny, she worked a month longer to have plenty, and Tom, he slipped ten +dollars into my hand unbeknown to her, jest as we were going, so I'd +always have a dime to give the waiter or the porter. I was never one of +these hayseed farmers, too stingy to give a colored boy a dime when he'd +done his best. I didn't need no money for badges; I got my old +badges—see!"</p> + +<p>He pushed out the lapel of his coat, covered with old-fashioned frayed +bits of tinsel and ribbon, smiling confidently. The girl had flushed +crimson to the rim of her white collar; but there was not a trace of +petulance in her air; and, all at once looking at him, her eyes filled +with tears.</p> + +<p>"Tom's an awful good fellow," he said, "an awful good fellow."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure of that," said the Canton man, with the frank American +friendliness, making a little bow in Miss Jenny's direction; "but see +here, Mr. Painter, do you come from Izard? Are you the man that saved +the county for the Republicans by mortgaging his farm and then going on +a house-to-house canvass?"</p> + +<p>"That's me," the old man acquiesced, blushing with pleasure; "I didn't +think, though, that it was known outside—"</p> + +<p>"Things go further than you guess. I'm a newspaper man, and I can tell +you that I shall speak of it again in my paper. Well, I guess they've +got through with their mail, and the platform's coming in."</p> + +<p>Thus he brushed aside the old man's agitated thanks.</p> + +<p>"One moment," said the old man, "who—who's going to nominate him?"</p> + +<p>For the space of an eyeblink the kindly Canton man looked embarrassed, +then he said, briskly: "Foraker, Foraker, of Ohio—he's the principal +one. That's he now, chairman of the committee on resolutions. He's +there, the tall man with the mustache—"</p> + +<p>"Isn't that elderly man, with the stoop shoulders and the chin beard and +caved-in face, Teller?" It was a man near me, on the seat behind, who +spoke, tapping the Canton man with his fan, to attract attention; +already the pitiful concerns of the old man who was "a little off" (as I +had heard some one on the seat whisper) were sucked out of notice in the +whirlpool of the approaching political storm.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's Teller," answered the Canton man, his mouth straightening +and growing thin.</p> + +<p>"Is it to be a bolt?"</p> + +<p>The Canton man nodded, at which the other whistled and communicated the +information to his neighbors, one of whom remarked, "Let 'em bolt and be +damned!" A general, subtle excitement seemed to communicate its +vibrations to all the gallery. Perhaps I should except the old partisan; +he questioned the girl in a whisper, and then, seeming to be satisfied, +watched the strange scene that ensued with an expression of patient +weariness. The girl explained parts of the platform to him and he +assented; it was good Republican doctrine, he said, but what did they +mean with all this talk against the money; were they having trouble with +the mining states again? The Canton man stopped to explain—he certainly +was good-humored.</p> + +<p>During the next twenty minutes, filled as they were with savage emotion, +while the galleries, like the floor, were on their chairs yelling, +cheering, brandishing flags and fists and fans and pampas plumes of red, +white and blue at the little band of silver men who marched through the +ranks of their former comrades; he stood, he waved his fan in his feeble +old hand, but he did not shout. "You must excuse me," said he, "I'm all +right on the money question, but I'm saving my voice to shout for +<i>him</i>!"</p> + +<p>"That's right," said the Canton man; but he cast a backward glance which +said as plainly as a glance can speak, "I wish I were out of this!"</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, with an absent but happy smile, the old Blaine man was +beating time to the vast waves of sound that rose and swelled above the +band, above the cheering, above the cries of anger and scorn, the +tremendous chorus that had stiffened men's hearts as they marched to +death and rung through streets filled with armies and thrilled the +waiting hearts at home:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Three cheers for the red, white and blue!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Three cheers for the red, white and blue!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The army and navy for ever, three cheers for the red, white and blue!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>But when the chairman had stilled the tumult and made his grim comment, +"There appear to be enough delegates left to transact business," the old +partisan cast his eyes down to the floor with a chuckle. "I can't see +the hole they made, it's so small. Say, ain't he a magnificent +chairman; you can hear every word he says!"</p> + +<p>"Bully chairman," said a cheerful "rooter" in the rear, who had enjoyed +the episode more than words can say, and had cheered the passing of +Silver with such choice quotations from popular songs as "<i>Good-by, my +lover, good-by</i>," and "<i>Just mention that you saw me</i>," and plainly felt +that he, too, had adorned the moment. "I nearly missed coming this +morning, and I wouldn't have missed it for a tenner; they're going to +nominate now."</p> + +<p>The old man caught his breath; then he smiled. "I'll help you shout +pretty soon," said he, while he sat down very carefully.</p> + +<p>The "rooter," a good-looking young fellow with a Reed button and three +or four gaudy badges decking his crash coat, nodded and tapped his +temple furtively, still retaining his expression of radiant good-nature. +The Canton man nodded and frowned.</p> + +<p>I felt that the Canton man need not be afraid. Somehow we were all +tacitly taking care that this poor, bewildered soul should not have its +little dream of loyal, unselfish satisfaction dispelled.</p> + +<p>"Ah, my countrymen," I thought, "you do a hundred crazy things, you +crush <i>les convenances</i> under foot, you can be fooled by frantic +visionaries, but how I love you!"</p> + +<p>It was Baldwin of Iowa that made the first speech. He was one of the +very few men—I had almost said of the two men—that we in the galleries +had the pleasure of hearing; and we could hear every word.</p> + +<p>He began with a glowing tribute to Blaine. At the first sentence our old +man flung his gray head in the air with the gesture of the war horse +when he catches the first, far-off scream of the trumpet. He leaned +forward, his features twitching, his eyes burning; the fan dropped out +of his limp hand; his fingers, rapping his palm, clenched and loosened +themselves unconsciously in an overpowering agitation. His face was +white as marble, with ominous blue shadows: but every muscle was +astrain; his chest expanded; his shoulders drew back; his mouth was as +strong and firm as a young man. For a second we could see what he had +been at his prime.</p> + +<p>Then the orator's climax came, and the name—the magic name that was its +own campaign cry in itself.</p> + +<p>The old partisan leaped to his feet; he waved his hands above his head; +wild, strange, in his white flame of excitement. He shouted; and we all +shouted with him, the McKinley man and the Reed man vieing with each +other (I here offer my testimony as to the scope and quality of that +young Reed man's voice), and the air rang about us: "Blaine! Blaine! +James G. Blaine!" He shrieked the name again and again, goading into +life the waning applause. Then in an instant his will snapped under the +strain; his gray beard tilted in the air; his gray head went back on his +neck.</p> + +<p>The Canton man and I caught him in time to ease the fall. We were helped +to pull him into the aisle. There were four of us by this time, his +granddaughter and the Reed "rooter," besides the Canton man and myself.</p> + +<p>We carried him into the wide passageway that led to the seats. The Reed +young man ran for water, and, finding none, quickly returned with a +glass of lemonade (he was a young fellow ready in shifts), and with it +we bathed the old man's face.</p> + +<p>Presently he came back, by degrees, to the world; he was not conscious, +but we could see that he was not going to die.</p> + +<p>"He'll be all right in no time," declared the Reed man. "You had better +go back and get your seats, and keep mine!"</p> + +<p>I assured both men that I could not return for more than a short time, +having an engagement for luncheon.</p> + +<p>"That's all right," said the Reed man, turning to the Canton man, "I +ain't shouting when Foraker comes; you are. You go back and keep my +seat; I'll come in later on Hobart."</p> + +<p>So the kindly Canton man returned to the convention for which he was +longing, and we remained in our little corner by the window, the young +girl fanning the old man, and the young man on the watch for a boy with +water. He darted after one; and then the girl turned to me.</p> + +<p>No one disturbed us. Below the traffic of a great city roared up to us +and a brass band clanged merrily. The crowd hurried past, drawn by the +tidings that "the fight was on," and choked the outlets and suffocated +the galleries.</p> + +<p>"He's been that way ever since he read, suddenly, that Blaine was +dead"—she said, lowering her voice to keep it safe from his failing +ears—"he had a kind of a stroke, and ever since he's had the notion +that Blaine was alive and was going to be nominated, and his heart was +set on going here. Mother was afraid; but when—when he cried to go, I +could not help taking him—I didn't know but maybe it might help him; he +was such a smart man and such a good man; and he has had trouble about +mortgaging the farm; and he worked so hard to get the money back, so +mother would feel right. All through the hot weather he worked, and I +guess that's how it happened. You don't think it's hurt him? The doctor +said he might go. He told T—, a gentleman friend of mine who asked +him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, no," I exclaimed, "it has been good for him."</p> + +<p>I asked for her address, which fortunately was near, and I offered her +the cab that was waiting for me. I had some ado to persuade her to +accept it; but when I pointed to her grandfather's pale face she did +accept it, thanking me in a simple but touching way, and, of course, +begging me to visit her at Izard, Ohio.</p> + +<p>All this while we had been sedulously fanning the old man, who would +occasionally open his eyes for a second, but gave no other sign of +returning consciousness.</p> + +<p>The young Reed man came back with the water. He was bathing the old +man's forehead in a very skillful and careful way, using my +handkerchief, when an uproar of cheering shook the very floor under us +and the rafters overhead.</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" the old man inquired, feebly.</p> + +<p>"Foraker! Foraker!" bellowed the crowd.</p> + +<p>"He's nominated him!" muttered the old man; but this time he did not +attempt to rise. With a smile of great content he leaned against his +grand-daughter's strong young frame and listened, while the cheers +swelled into a deafening din, an immeasurable tumult of sound, out of +which a few strong voices shaped the chorus of the Battle Cry of +Freedom, to be caught up by fifteen thousand throats and pealed through +the walls far down the city streets to the vast crowd without.</p> + +<p>The young Reed "boomer," carried away by the moment, flung his free hand +above his head and yelled defiantly: "Three cheers for the man from +Maine!" Instantly he caught at his wits, his color turned, and he lifted +an abashed face to the young girl.</p> + +<p>"But, really, you know, that ain't giving nothing away," he apologized, +plucking up heart. "May I do it again?"</p> + +<p>The old partisan's eye lighted. "Now they're shouting! That's like old +times! Yes, do it again, boy! Blaine! Blaine! James G. Blaine!"</p> + +<p>He let us lead him to the carriage, the rapturous smile still on his +lips. The "rooter" and I wormed our way through the crowd back to the +seats which the kind Canton man had kept for us.</p> + +<p>We were quite like old acquaintances now; and he turned to me at once. +"Was there ever a politician or a statesman, since Henry Clay, loved so +well as James G. Blaine?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="MAX_OR_HIS_PICTURE" id="MAX_OR_HIS_PICTURE"></a>MAX—OR HIS PICTURE</h2> + + +<p>A knock sounded on the principal's door. "That's Florence," she thought; +and she sighed in the same breath. The principal had secretly liked +Florence Raimund, the best of her two hundred girls, for three years; +and, sometimes, she suspected that Florence knew it. Miss Wing sat at +her desk. It was a large desk of oak, always kept in blameless order. No +one could recall seeing more than one letter at a time lying on the +blotter. Any others, yet unread, lay in the wicker tray to the left; the +letters read but not answered were in the wicker tray to the right; the +answered letters were in appropriate pigeonholes or in ashes, Miss Wing +being a firm believer in fire as a confidential agent. Above the desk +hung the most interesting object in the room, to the school-girls; in +fact it would be hard to gage justly the influence this one, mute and +motionless, had over their young imaginations; or how far it was +responsible for the rose-tinted halo that beyond doubt, glorified the +principal for them. The object was a picture, the picture of a young man +in the uniform of a captain in the German cuirassiers. His thick light +hair was brushed back from a fine and candid forehead. A smile creased +his cheek under the warlike curl of his mustachios. It was a smile so +happy and so friendly in its happiness, that it won the beholder. The +eyes were not large, but even in the black and white of a photograph +(the portrait was an ordinary cabinet <i>carte</i>) they seemed to sparkle. +The young fellow's figure was superb, and held with a military precision +and jauntiness. One said, looking at the whole presence, "This man is a +good fellow." Viewing him more closely, one might add, "And he is in +love." The picture was framed handsomely in a gilded frame. On the desk +below, an exquisite vase of Venice lifted a single, perfect rose. For +fifteen years a flower had always bloomed thus. Miss Wing had hung the +picture herself, fifteen years ago. Then, she was the new principal, and +the school was but half its size; and the village people exclaimed at +trusting "such a girl" with so much responsibility. During those fifteen +years the new building had been built, the school had grown and +flourished; and the gray had crept into Margaret Wing's bright hair. She +had so often put on mourning for her near kindred that she had assumed +it as her permanent garb. To the certain (and ecstatic) knowledge of the +school, she had refused divers offers of marriage from citizens of good +repute and substance. But during all the changing years, the picture had +kept its place and the fresh flowers had bloomed below. No girl could +remember the desk without the picture; and when the old girls visited +the school, their eyes would instinctively seek it in its old place; +always with a little moving of the heart. Yet no one ever alluded to it +to the principal; and no one, not her most trusted teacher, nor her best +loved pupil, had ever heard the principal speak of it. The name of the +pictured soldier, his story, his relation to Miss Wing; Miss Wing's +nearest kindred and friends knew as much about all these as the +school—and that was nothing. Nevertheless, the school tradition +reported part of a name on the authority of a single incident. Years ago +an accident happened to the picture. It was the principal's custom to +carry it with her on her journeys, however brief; always taking it down +and putting it back in its place herself. On this occasion the floor had +been newly polished, and in hanging the picture her chair on which she +stood slipped and she fell, while the picture dropped out of her grasp. +One of the girls, who was passing, ran to her aid; but she had crawled +toward the picture and would have it in her hands before she allowed the +girl to aid her to rise—a circumstance, you may be sure, not likely to +escape the sharp young eyes. Neither did these same eyes miss the +further circumstance that the jar had shifted the <i>carte</i> in the frame +and a line of writing, hitherto hidden, was staring out at the world. +The hand was the sharp, minute German hand, but the words were English; +the girl took them in at an eyeblink, as she handed the picture to Miss +Wing: "<i>Thine for ever, Max.</i>" Miss Wing made no comment; perhaps she +supposed that the girl had not seen, perhaps—in any case she was +silent.</p> + +<p>Of course, the new light flooded the school gossip immediately. But +there never came any more; every new girl was free to work her own will +on Miss Wing's romance. Was "Max" dead? Had they parted because of any +act on the woman's part? Surely he could not have been false, to receive +that daily oblation of flowers. It was more likely that she thus +expressed an imperishable regret. Youth, ever fanciful, played with all +manner of dainty and plaintive variations on the theme. Its very mystery +was its poignant charm; since each tender young soul created a new +romance and a new appeal. Elusive and pathetic, it hovered on the edge +of these young lives, like the perfume of a flower. And its influence +was the more potent that it asked for nothing. It is not too much to say +that the spectacle of that gentle and reticent faithfulness was the +strongest element in the school atmosphere. Certainly, because of it, +Miss Wing had greater power over her scholars. She was a woman of +ability and gentle force; by nature a little aloof, a little precise, +able to feel deeply, but not able to express her sympathies or her pain. +Without her mysterious sorrow, she would have seemed to young girls a +thought too admirable; they would have been chilled by her virtues; but +as it was, their perception that she had lived deeply, that she had +suffered, that she had been loved and had loved eternally, opened their +hearts. They would have admired her, now they adored her. By degrees, +and insensibly to herself, she became the confessor of her little +world. After they left school, her girls brought her their perplexities +of the heart. Wives came to her with cruel dilemmas which they shrank +from revealing to their own mothers—perhaps because the mothers could +not be trusted to plead for the erring husband so well; for a woman who +loves complains, not to be justified herself, but to hear her lover's +misconduct excused and his love proved against her doubts. Before they +left school, the girls confessed their faults and failings and strivings +of conscience with the same eagerness with which they asked counsel in +their innocent romances of friendship or the sorrows of trigonometry, +and they accepted any penance directed, not only with patience, but a +kind of exaltation natural to youth, which finds a secret joy in the +exercise of its own fortitude.</p> + +<p>To-day, however, Miss Wing sat before the picture which so many young +eyes had studied with such vague, yet ardent, sympathy, and pondered +over a confidence that had not come. The lack of its coming hurt her; +and the tap on her door was welcome, for she thought, "It is she—coming +to tell me. Oh, I hope he is the right man."</p> + +<p>At her response, the door swung open with a jerk, and the dark-eyed girl +who entered was catching her breath, although she tried to make the +quick intakes noiseless. There was a look of pale resolution on her +features.</p> + +<p>"Have you come to let me congratulate you, my dear?" said the principal, +rising. The girl colored scarlet. "I've come because I had to, because I +couldn't deceive you," she blurted. "Miss Wing, it isn't so. I let Miss +Parker think so; but I'm not engaged to him."</p> + +<p>"Sit down, dear," said Miss Wing. The soft cadence of her voice did not +roughen. She sat down when her guest sat, and leaned back in her desk +chair, folding her slim, white hands. There were flashing rings on her +hands; and the girls used to wonder which ring "Max" had given her. They +favored the sapphire, set between two diamonds, because of its beauty +("a real Cashmere, you know"), and because, whether she wore other rings +or not, this always kept its place.</p> + +<p>"Now, tell me," said Miss Wing.</p> + +<p>"I had a letter from him this morning; it was just a note in one of +Helen Grier's"—the girl's lithe form was erect in the chair, every +muscle tense; she looked past Miss Wing to the wall and spoke in +toneless voice; no one could see that she was driving straight on to her +purpose, over her own writhing nerves—"all he said was that he had been +called back to Germany—"</p> + +<p>"Is he a German? Miss Parker said his name was Cutler."</p> + +<p>"It is Butler," the girl said, flinging her head back, while a spark +crept into her liquid, troubled, dark eyes, "but he <i>is</i> a German. Don't +you know the Butlers in 'Wallenstein?' You know he was a real man; and +he founded a family. He—my—my friend is the Count von Butler." Miss +Wing's chair, like other desk chairs, was set on a pivot; she turned +very slightly and slowly, at the same time resting her elbow on the +desk. The girl ventured a timid glance at her, and thought that she +looked sterner, wherefore her heart sank; but she only continued the +faster: "He isn't in America just to travel; he was sent by his +government to watch the Cuban war. He's very brave; and he isn't a bit +like a foreigner and hasn't any nasty supercilious notions about women. +Mr. Grier says he has a <i>future</i>. And really, Miss Wing, he is just +like a—a—a kind of knight."</p> + +<p>"Where did you meet him?"</p> + +<p>"At Helen's last summer. And he was going out to Minneapolis to see +papa, I—I think. But he got a cable of his uncle's death. And his two +little cousins died last year; so now he is the head of the family; and +he must go to Germany at once. For his father is dead, you know. So he +wrote (in Helen's letter, because he is so—so awfully proper!) asking +to let him come here and take me to drive—in the American fashion. I +know who put him up to that scheme; it was Helen. I had to ask Miss +Parker, because you were out; and she said if he wasn't a relation or +the man I was going to marry I couldn't go. 'Of course, if he were the +man you expect to marry,' she said, and—and I—I said, 'But he is!' +Just like that. I can't fancy how I came to say such a thing, but when +it was said I didn't know how to explain; and I was so awfully ashamed; +and, besides"—she lifted her eyes in the frank and direct gaze that +Miss Wing always liked—"besides, I do want to see him."</p> + +<p>"And do you expect him to ask you to marry him?" said Miss Wing, with a +deepening of the color on her cheek, which went out suddenly like the +flame of a lamp in the wind.</p> + +<p>Florence Raimund blushed again, but this time she laughed: "I don't +know. He is so awfully proper," said she, "and he hasn't had a chance to +ask papa; but—I think he wants to."</p> + +<p>"In that case, isn't he the man whom you expect to marry?" asked Miss +Wing dryly. "But it was deceiving her just the same. I am glad you came, +Florence."</p> + +<p>Here the girl looked up; and something in Miss Wing's eyes made her dash +across the room to fling herself on her knees before that lady with an +inarticulate gasp between a sob and a laugh, and the sentences came in a +rush: "I <i>had</i> to come! I couldn't deceive you if I never saw him again. +And besides, I hoped you would think of some way!"</p> + +<p>"And you escape quite unpunished?" said Miss Wing gently.</p> + +<p>At which the black head sank lower, while a smothered voice mumbled: "Do +you think I—<i>liked</i> it, coming to tell?"</p> + +<p>Miss Wing smoothed her hair. "It would have pained me very much if you +had not come. Tell me; whether he sees you or not, will he not write to +your father? Do you think his feeling is so slight that a disappointment +will turn it?"</p> + +<p>The black head threw itself up bravely and the fearless young eyes met +Miss Wing's pensive brown ones. "No, Miss Wing, I know it will make no +difference."</p> + +<p>Miss Wing stifled a sigh; it may be that she was not so sure of the firm +purpose of a lover; she spoke more gently: "It is only the +disappointment, then, if you can't see him?"</p> + +<p>The girl's face quivered a little.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I am foolish," said Miss Wing, "but I think it <i>would</i> be a +disappointment very hard to bear. Still, you must admit that parents do +not send their children to school expecting them to become engaged to be +married; on the contrary, there is a tacit pledge that we shall protect +our wards from any entanglement. But this did not happen at school; the +only question is, ought I to prevent it going any farther? My dear, do +you have confidence in me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Wing," said the girl.</p> + +<p>"Of course, I do not think that I ought to consent to your driving alone +together."</p> + +<p>The girl drew a long sigh. "I suppose not," she breathed, in dismal +resignation.</p> + +<p>"But I should like him to come here, to see me; and then, if I find him +to be what your father would approve, you may see him here; and we shall +all have to explain things together, I fancy, to your father."</p> + +<p>The girl drew another, a very different, sigh, and impulsively kissed +Miss Wing's hand. She tried to speak, and could only murmur, "Oh, I do +love you!"</p> + +<p>"And so, if you will tell Graf von Butler—what is his Christian name, +Florence?"</p> + +<p>"Max," said the girl, very low, for she felt the presence of the +picture, on which she had not once turned her eyes. Before she spoke, +under a pretense of a pull at her skirt, she slipped her hand out of the +hand with the sapphire ring. Yet her excited young nerves vibrated at +the slight cough which came as the principal changed her position, +before she said, in her usual tone: "It is a fine name. Well, Florence, +you will tell Count Max von Butler that I shall hope to see him. +And—will you trust me?"</p> + +<p>The girl told her that she would trust her utterly, and she knew that +it would be right; and oh, she was so happy. And she came back to say, +with the tears in her eyes, "I shall be grateful to you as long as I +live."</p> + +<p>Miss Wing stood in the center of the room, smiling, until the door +closed. But then in a second she was at the door, almost fiercely, but +noiselessly, twisting the key in the lock. From the door she passed to +the windows and dropped the shades. At last, safe from every chance of +espial, she sat down again in her chair before the desk, leaned her +elbows on the desk, and looked desperately, miserably, into the joyous +face of the picture. She did not speak, but her thoughts took on words +and sank like hot lead into her heart. "Max Butler! Max Butler! The +little nephew he told me about. And <i>he</i> has been alive all these years; +and happy; with little sons, while I—I have lied to these trusting +girls. It was wicked and shameless. I deceived myself; then I deceived +them. I wonder why. I knew what they were thinking. How dare I look that +honest child in the face! I suppose she wonders like the rest why I have +not told any one of my romance. And it is simply that there was nothing +to tell. Nothing." She looked into the soldier's happy eyes while her +lips curled and she murmured, drearily and bitterly, "I haven't even the +right to be angry with you, poor lad. What did you do? <i>You</i> are not my +Max; I only made him up out of my heart—like children playing a game!" +Her mind drifted dizzily through shapeless and inconsequent visions of +the past. She was seeing again the grim pile of the ruined castle, the +masses of broken shadow, the intricate carving on arch and architrave +and plinth, the wavering mass of limbs and tree-trunks on the green +sward; and she, with her twisted ankle, was kneeling, trying to peer +through the shrubbery for her lost companions. Did he come by chance? +She had seen the handsome young officer daily, for a week. His +great-aunt was Margaret's right-hand neighbor at the pension table +d'hôte, a withered relic of Polish nobility with fine, black eyes in a +face like a hickory nut; who wore shabby gowns and magnificent jewels, +frankly smoked cigarettes, and seemed to have a venomous tale ready to +fit any name mentioned in conversation—with one exception, her +nephew's. According to her, Max's father was a swine and his mother a +fool and his brother a popinjay, and his sister had no respect for her +betters; but Max had a heart. It was understood at the pension that she +was arranging a great match for him. In spite of the general disapproval +of his aunt, he was a favorite, he was so simple, amiable, and polite. +Even the American professor admitted that for a man "who had won the +iron cross in such a spectacular fashion, he was very modest and really +more like an American than a German officer," thus paying the +unconsciously arrogant compliment kept by every race for engaging +aliens. Margaret's first sight of him was not under the shelter of +conventionalities. It happened that the countess' ferocious pet (and the +terror of the pension), a Great Dane, was trying to eat up a little +girl, but fortunately had begun with her petticoats. The court of the +house was the scene of the fray; a large, timid cook, the only witness, +was waving a copper kettle full of the meringue that she was beating, in +one hand, and the great wire whip in the other, while she shrieked +impartially on Heaven and the police. Margaret heard the din. She ran to +the spot. Being a New England woman, she didn't scream; one swift glance +went from the child's writhing body and the dog's horrible head to the +wailing cook. In two strides she caught the kettle out of a fat and +agitated German hand and hurled the whole sticky, white mass full at the +dog's eyes; then, as the blinded and astounded beast flung his head back +to howl, and spattered the world with meringue, she snatched up the +child and sent her flying into the door and the cook. The dog was +smeared with meringue, she was smeared, the child was smeared, the cook +was smeared; and now a beautiful white and gold officer, who bounded +over the wall and fell upon the dog with his saber and two heels, was +smeared the most lavishly of all! No wonder Frau Müller (visible aloft, +in an artless German toilet of ease and without her teeth), the countess +(who was a gazing stock, for the same reason), and Augustine, her maid, +the three Russians on the second floor, and the three Americans on the +third, filled the windows with polyglot consternation! The consequence +of it all was that when the Count von Butler was formally presented to +Miss Wing that evening, she blushed. She was too pale and listless to be +pretty, but when she blushed she was enchanting. Remembering the +meringue, she smiled and ventured an upward glance; and, for the first +time in her life, met the admiration in the eyes of a man. At this time +Margaret was thirty years old and had never been asked in marriage. She +had spent most of the thirty years in a boarding-school, as pupil or as +teacher; and she had brought from her cloistered life a single vivid +feeling, a passionate friendship which death had ended. The sapphire +ring was her poor friend's last token.</p> + +<p>To be thirty and never to have been sought like other girls, leaves a +chill in the heart. It may be lonely never to have loved, but it is +bleak never to have been loved. Margaret remembered her delicate, +girlish dreams with a recoil of humiliation; they seemed to her almost +immodest. She thought she was too old to wear hats, and wondered whether +she ought not to discard the pinks and light blues which poor Elly had +liked on her, for more sedate colors. But she wore pink after she met +Max Butler. Yet he never saw her save in the presence of others. He was +full of little, graceful attentions, but he showed the same attentions +to the portly clergyman's widow and the meritorious but cross-eyed +teacher of fifty, who formed Miss Wing's "party"; it was only his eyes, +his eyes always following her, approvingly, delighting, admiring, +pleading, speaking to her as they spoke to no other woman. She told +herself that it was just the pleasant, foreign way; and she wrote to her +friends in America, "The German officers have very agreeable, +deferential manners; I think they are much more gentle and polite and +have a higher respect for women than the French or Italians." And he +said no word, even of friendship, until that afternoon at the +Heidelberger Schloss.</p> + +<p>He came upon her almost immediately, scrambling up the bank at a rate +which had worked woe to his uniform. He was torn, he was scratched, he +was stained with mud and grass; and he was beaming with delight. "I have +seen you from below," he exclaimed in his careful English, "so I came +up. Will you excuse?" Then his mood changed, perceiving her plight, and +he insisted on tearing his handkerchief into strips to bind her ankle. +It seemed absurd to refuse his aid, which he offered quite simply; but +his hands trembled a little over the knots. "It will be most easy, I +think," said he, "that you should let me assist you a small way, to the +<i>restauracion</i>; so I can get the carriage, and you can have some ice +cream. Again, to-day, is it burned—"</p> + +<p>She had laughed and said that she never had heard of burned ice cream. +He laughed, too, and explained that it was burned as a custard, and +somehow under cover of this she let him put her hand on his shoulder and +his arm about her waist. She was grateful to him for the matter-of-fact +manner in which he did it all, saying, "You will have to be my comrade +that has been wounded, and I will help him off the field; so I did, +once, with my colonel; it is better than to wait until I could bring +help." In this fashion they walked for some twenty minutes. They were +minutes not entirely disfigured by her physical pain, for it was a +comfort to be helped by so strong and kind a friend. The comfort +brightened almost into pleasure, as they drove homeward in a shabby +<i>droschky</i>, with all the circuit of the horizon flooded with softest +rose and gold, reflecting the cloudless glory of the west. Borne along +through that unreal and lovely radiance, past the hills checkered with +vineyards and ripening grain, which the sunlight blazoned in green and +gold like the initials of an old missal; they talked as one friend would +talk to another. At least that was her phrase, and she admitted to +herself that she had not been so nearly happy since Elly died. "I didn't +know a man could be so—so kind," she said.</p> + +<p>He told her of his country and his home; and how he loved the hills that +his fathers had always owned, and the rugged, simple, faithful people; +he told her of the plans of his father and himself for them; he told her +of his father, who had the best heart in the world, but was credited +with a fierce temper simply because his voice was loud; and his mother, +who was so gentle that every one loved her; and his handsome sister, and +his brother, who was a diplomat and far cleverer than he; and his little +brother who died and would have no one carry him in his pain but Max +("Ah, he was the most clever and the most beautiful of us all!"), and +Max, his little nephew, who looked like the dead boy. "I hope you will +see my home and them all," he said; "to-morrow, I shall see them, then, +the same day, I shall be back here—with you."</p> + +<p>And then, by degrees, she won him to talk of his profession, of his +hopes, his ambitions, his ideals; of all those intimate and cherished +things which lie at the bottom of the soul and only rise for a friend's +eyes. It seemed to her that she could read his character in the hints +given by his words, as one would fill an outline sketch with perspective +and details. There was certainly a fascination in this revelation; +candor, after all, was a virtue, as well as reticence. Perhaps her new +friend was a little mediæval, but he was as refined as if he had been +all modern.</p> + +<p>By now they were rattling through the modern town of Heidelberg, the +plain walls of which looked bare after the lawless pomp of carving and +form on the old castle; they had not even the bizarre, affected grace of +the architecture then decking American countrysides. But Margaret +thought how homelike and honest the houses looked; staunch and trusty, +like the German. Butler, just then, was praising American buggies, from +which he made a general transition to the customs of society. "In +America, is it not," says he, "the young ladies drive alone with young +men?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, very often. But not with you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, <i>mein fraulein</i>, this is the first time I am alone with a young +lady!"</p> + +<p>She had called herself old for so long that there was a distinct +pleasure in being "a young lady" to him, and she had not time to +remember it partook of the nature of deceit, because he sent a wave of +confusion over her by continuing: "In America, also, one would propose +marriage to a lady, herself, before to her father?"</p> + +<p>"It is our custom," agreed Margaret, "but"—with her prim teacher's +air—"your custom is far more decorous."</p> + +<p>His face fell, then promptly brightened. "Perhaps it would be best to +speak to both, so near the same time one can. But this is another thing +you must explain me. How is it most preferable to the lady, that one +shall write or shall come—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, write," said Margaret quickly. How silly of her to suddenly feel so +frightened; she wished that she were in a room and not in a carriage +with him; involuntarily she shrank back into her own corner, and she +found that she was playing with the soiled and frayed edges of a tear in +the cloth of the side-curtain and watching her pearl-colored fingers. +Those gloves she had put on new, that day. How reckless! But she had not +the resolution to desist. His voice dragged a little, "Ah, yes, if she +would refuse, but if—<i>not</i>?"</p> + +<p>"In any case," said she.</p> + +<p>"Look!" he exclaimed, "at the sunset. Ah, is it not lovely?"</p> + +<p>Of a sudden they were looking, not at the sunset, but into each other's +eyes; and all about them was that wonderful, transfiguring glow, and it +seemed as if there were nothing in the whole world that he had not said.</p> + +<p>"Is it to the right, Herr Captain?" asked the driver, turning on his +seat to divide a benign and semi-intoxicated smile between them.</p> + +<p>Then it was hardly a moment until the yellow stucco of the pension +jumped at their eyes, around a corner; and there were the clergyman's +widow and the teacher at the door. They fell upon the carriage in a +clamor of explanation and sympathy; they were at her side when he bowed +over her hand and kissed it, saying, "<i>Aufwiedersehen</i>."</p> + +<p>That was all. There was never any more. He did not come again. Or if he +came, she was not there, since the next day they were on their way to +Bremen, summoned by cable to her sister's deathbed. She never heard from +him or of him again. Yet she had left her American address with his aunt +for any letters that might need to be forwarded, and a stiff little +note of thanks and farewell—a perfectly neutral note such as any friend +might give or receive. There followed weeks crowded with sorrow and +business (the sister was a widow without children, and she shared her +estate with her other sister); and Margaret imputed her deep depression +to these natural and sufficient causes. She rated herself for vanity in +reading her own meanings into a courteous young man's looks and his +intelligent interest in national difference of manners. She fostered her +shame with the New Englander's zest for self-torture. But one afternoon, +without warning, there fell upon her a deep and hopeless peace. It was +as if some invisible power controlled and changed all the currents of +her thought. She <i>knew</i> that her friend was not faithless or careless; +he was dead. She began to weep gently, thinking pitifully of his old +father with the loud voice, and his fragile mother and the sister and +brother and the little nephew. "Poor people," she murmured, wishing, for +the first time in her life, to make some sign of her sorrow for them to +them, she who always paid her toll of sympathy, but dreaded it and knew +that she was clumsy. She remembered the day at the castle, and went +over again each word, each look. A sensation that she could not +understand, full of awe and sweetness, possessed her. It was +indescribable, unthinkable, but it was also irresistible. Under its +impulse she went to a trunk in another room, from which she had not yet +removed all the contents, and took out her Heidelberg photographs. She +said to herself that she would look at the scenes of that day. In her +search she came upon a package of her own pictures which had come the +morning of the day that she had gone. She could not remember any details +of receiving them, except that she had been at the photographer's the +day before and paid for them. When they came she was in too great +agitation (they were just packing) to more than fling them into a tray. +She could not tell why she took the <i>cartes</i> out of the envelope and ran +them listlessly through her fingers; but at the last of the package she +uttered a cry. The last <i>carte</i> was a picture of Max, with the +inscription in his own hand, "Thine for ever." It is not exact to say +that with the finding of the picture her doubt of his affection for her +vanished; for in truth, she had no doubts, the possession was too +absolute. But the sight came upon her as the presence of a mortal being, +alive and visible, comes on one when he enters a room. And there is no +question that it was a comfort; if she had really loved Max, at this +time, the knowledge of his death would have been her cruelest shock; for +then she could have no hope to meet him again in the world—no hope of +some explanation and the happiness of life together. But she was not in +love with the young German, she was touched by his admiration, she +admired him tenderly, she felt the moving of a subtle attraction which +she called friendship and which might pass into a keener feeling; but +she did not love him. Not then. Therefore, she felt a sweetness in her +pain; she could respect herself once more; she had a new and mystical +joy; for was she not beloved above women? Had not her lover come to her, +through what strange paths who may know, to comfort her? This is the +story of the picture. She could not tell it. Nor did she; but she hung +Max's portrait on the walls of her little parlor; and she hung opposite +a picture of the castle; and from that day, never a day passed that it +did not influence her. She used to think her thoughts before it. She +came to it with her grief for the loss of kindred and friends, with her +loneliness, with her anxieties, with her aspirations, her plans, her +cares for others, her slowly dawning interests and affections. She was a +reticent woman, who might never have allowed her heart to expand to her +husband himself, beyond a certain limit; but she hid nothing from Max. +In time, she fell into the habit of talking to the picture. She called +him Max. The first time she spoke his name she blushed. She made her +toilets for him more than for the world; but whether Max could admire +them or not, it is certain that the girls knew every change in her +pretty gowns. Her sense of having been loved had its effect on her +manner, and a deeper effect on her heart. At thirty she was a New +England nun; at forty she was the woman who understands. The love which +the shrinking and critical girl repelled at its first step toward her, +without knowing, the woman who pitied and who understood, attracted, +quite as unconsciously.</p> + +<p>"It is very queer, Max," she said, "that in my old age men should want +to marry me. But I like you best."</p> + +<p>Only the day before, she had said that; and she had said, "I am happy, +Max. Isn't it strange! But I am." Only yesterday—and now there was +nothing. The Max that she had grown to love, with the gradual, +imperceptible advance of affection, sweet to her shy nature—that Max +had never been. No doubt all the while, over in Germany, a stout and +phlegmatic German landlord had been caring for his vineyards and playing +the war lord in the landwehr and living very comfortably with the +doughfaced German girl whose hair was lighter than her complexion, whom +the countess wanted him to marry; a man as unlike the high-souled knight +of her fancy as—as she, herself, was unlike the girl's image! Worst of +all was her own weak, false behavior. "No," she cried, in an access of +bitterness, "the worst is that I can't feel <i>that</i> the worst; I can only +feel I have lost him, for ever! I don't seem to mind that I have lost +myself!"</p> + +<p>Now she began to pace the room, trying to think clearly. Was it her duty +to tell Florence the story and let her tell the girls? The red-hot agony +of the idea seemed to her excited conscience an intimation that it <i>was</i> +her duty from which she shrank because she was a selfish, hysterical, +dishonorable coward. Horrible as such abasement would be, if it were her +duty, she could do it; what she could not, what she <i>would</i> not do, was +to tear the veil from that pure and mystical passion which had been the +flower of her heart. "Not if it cost me my soul," she said, with the +frozen quiet of despair; "it is awful, but I can't do it!" One thing did +remain; she could remove the picture. That false witness of what had +never been should go. No eyes should ever fall on it again. It should +never deceive more. She walked toward it firmly. She lifted her +hand—and it fell. "I can't!" she moaned. "I'll do it to-morrow." She +could not remember, in years, so weak a compromise offered her +conscience.</p> + +<p>But she felt a sense of respite, almost relief, once having decided, and +she recovered her composure enough to go to her chamber and bathe her +eyes. While she was thus engaged she heard a knock. "It is he," she said +quietly; "well, the sooner the better."</p> + +<p>It was he; he had come earlier than he expected, he explained; he was +most grateful for Miss Wing's kind message. He looked like his uncle, as +the members of a family will look alike. He was not so tall; he was not +so handsome. Perhaps most people would call him more graceful. And his +English was faultless; he must have spoken it from his childhood. In the +midst of his first sentences, before they had permitted him to take a +chair, his eyes traveled past Miss Wing's face. She perceived that he +saw the picture; she knew that she grew pale; but, to her amazement, a +calm like the calm which had wrapped her senses on the day of her +finding the picture, closed about her again. "I beg pardon?" said he.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is Count von Butler's portrait," said she, in a clear voice, +without emotion. He was not so composed. "Then it <i>was</i> you," he said. +Following her example, he took a chair and looked earnestly at the +pictured face. "When Miss Raimund spoke of you so warmly, I noticed that +the name was the same, and I determined to inquire, but it seemed to me +unlikely. Yet it is. Miss Wing, I have a message to you, from my uncle."</p> + +<p>She noticed that there were gold motes in the air; and his pleasant, +blond face seemed to wander through them; the room was full of sunlight.</p> + +<p>"I was with him when he died."</p> + +<p>That was a strange thing to hear when the message of his uncle's death +had come to him in another country; she hoped that her brain was not +going to play her false.</p> + +<p>"It was fifteen years ago last July, you know. I never knew how many +details you received, or only the bare fact in the papers."</p> + +<p>Fifteen years! fifteen years! What was that date he was giving? That was +the day on which she sailed for America, the day after—what was that +story he was telling of a visit and a fire and a child rescued and an +accident? But still she listened with the same iron composure. The next +words she heard distinctly.</p> + +<p>"It was like him to lose his life that way; and he did not grudge it. +Yet it was hard that I should be the only one of his blood with him. He +could speak with difficulty when he told me to take a lock of hair and +his signet ring to you. He dictated the address, himself, to me. 'You +must be sure and take it,' he said. 'It is to the lady that I hoped +would be my betrothed; you must tell grandmamma about it, too. She has +my picture and she knows—but tell her'—and then, I think his mind must +have wandered a little, for he smiled brightly at me, saying, '<i>I'll</i> +tell her, myself,' and then the doctors came. He said nothing more, +only once, they told me, he murmured something about his betrothed. But +I had the ring; he took it off his finger and kissed it and gave it to +me. Child as I was, I knew that it was sacred. I wrapped it in the +paper, and afterward I put the lock of hair beside it. So soon as I +could, I went to Heidelberg, to the pension. You had gone and there was +no address, no trace—"</p> + +<p>"I left my address with the countess—"</p> + +<p>"My aunt is dead," said the young German gravely. "I would not criticize +her, but she had her own choice of a wife for my uncle; I do not think +one could trust her with addresses."</p> + +<p>"We all gave ours to her to give to Frau Müller."</p> + +<p>"That is why, then, I could not find you. My grandmother also tried. But +you were gone. I thought of the banks, long after, but I found nothing. +Often it has seemed dreadful that you should learn of this only through +the papers. But I could not tell whether—<i>anything</i>. When I came to +America, I confess it was always in my mind. I always carried my uncle's +little packet with me. I will have it sent to you."</p> + +<p>"Excuse me," said Miss Wing gently. "Will you please bring me the glass +of water—I—am afraid—I can't walk to it."</p> + +<p>But she would not let him pour the water on his handkerchief to bathe +her head. She sipped the water, and very pale, but quite herself, +brought him back to his own matters. She found that it was a cousin, +miscalled an uncle, in the German manner, who had died. It did not seem +to her that Max's nephew could be unworthy of any girl; yet she +conscientiously questioned him regarding his worldly affairs, for +Florence was an only daughter whose father had great possessions and a +distrust of adventurers, and at last she sent him forth to walk in the +grove with his sweetheart. "And speak to her," she said, with a look +that sank into his heart; "it is the American way; don't wait to write, +the American way is best."</p> + +<p>So, at last, she was alone. Alone with her lover who had always been +true; whose love many waters could not quench, and it was stronger than +death. She often pondered, afterward, whether there had not been some +note written to her and sent with the photographs; whether the countess +might not have tampered with the package, taking the note, but not +suspecting the picture. But none of these puzzles troubled her to-day. +She stood in front of the picture. All the years, an obscure and +virginal shyness had withheld her from ever overstepping her first +attitude. She told him every thought of her heart in regard to others +and herself. He was her dearest friend. She called him "Max" and "my +friend." Recalling the French use of the latter term, she used it +sometimes with a little flutter of the heart. But those innocent +endearments that a woman keeps for her lover's portrait—to make amends +for not proffering them of free will to the poor fellow himself—these +it would have shocked her to imagine. She never touched the picture, +save reverently to dust it, to take it down when she went away, to +replace it in its station when she returned. But now, trembling, yet not +blushing, she took the picture into her hands. She looked long into its +eyes; she kissed it with a light and timid kiss, and swiftly hid the +smiling face against her heart, pressing the frame in both hands, and +touching it with her cheek bent over it, while she whispered: "You <i>did</i> +tell me. You came back and told me. I love you. Max, my knight—my +husband!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_STOUT_MISS_HOPKINS_BICYCLE" id="THE_STOUT_MISS_HOPKINS_BICYCLE"></a>THE STOUT MISS HOPKINS' BICYCLE</h2> + + +<p>There was a skeleton in Mrs. Margaret Ellis' closet; the same skeleton +abode also in the closet of Miss Lorania Hopkins.</p> + +<p>The skeleton—which really does not seem a proper word—was the dread of +growing stout. They were more afraid of flesh than of sin. Yet they were +both good women. Mrs. Ellis regularly attended church, and could always +be depended on to show hospitality to convention delegates, whether +clerical or lay; she was a liberal subscriber to every good work; she +was almost the only woman in the church aid society that never lost her +temper at the soul-vexing time of the church fair; and she had a larger +clientele of regular pensioners than any one in town, unless it were her +friend, Miss Hopkins, who was "so good to the poor" that never a tramp +slighted her kitchen. Miss Hopkins was as amiable as Mrs. Ellis, and +always put her name under that of Mrs. Ellis, with exactly the same +amount, on the subscription papers. She could have given more, for she +had the larger income; but she had no desire to outshine her friend, +whom she admired as the most charming of women.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ellis, indeed, was agreeable as well as good, and a pretty woman to +the bargain, if she did not choose to be weighed before people. Miss +Hopkins often told her that she was not really stout; she merely was a +plump, trim little figure. Miss Hopkins, alas! was really stout. The two +waged a warfare against the flesh equal to the apostle's in vigor, +although so much less deserving of praise.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ellis drove her cook to distraction with divers dieting systems, +from Banting's and Doctor Salisbury's to the latest exhortations of some +unknown newspaper prophet. She bought elaborate gymnastic appliances, +and swung dumbbells and rode imaginary horses and propelled imaginary +boats. She ran races with a professional trainer, and she studied the +principles of Delsarte, and solemnly whirled on one foot and swayed her +body and rolled her head and hopped and kicked and genuflected in +company with eleven other stout and earnest matrons and one slim and +giggling girl who almost choked at every lesson. In all these exercises +Miss Hopkins faithfully kept her company, which was the easier, as Miss +Hopkins lived in the next house, a conscientious Colonial mansion with +all the modern conveniences hidden beneath the old-fashioned pomp.</p> + +<p>And yet, despite these struggles and self-denials, it must be told that +Margaret Ellis and Lorania Hopkins were little thinner for their +warfare. Still, as Shuey Cardigan, the trainer, told Mrs. Ellis, there +was no knowing what they might have weighed had they not struggled.</p> + +<p>"It ain't only the fat that's <i>on</i> ye, moind ye," says Shuey, with a +confidential sympathy of mien; '"it's what ye'd naturally be getting in +addition. And first ye've got to peel off that, and then ye come down to +the other."</p> + +<p>Shuey was so much the most successful of Mrs. Ellis' reducers that his +words were weighty. And when at last Shuey said, "I got what you need," +Mrs. Ellis listened. "You need a bike, no less," says Shuey.</p> + +<p>"But I never could ride one!" said Margaret, opening her pretty brown +eyes and wrinkling her Grecian forehead.</p> + +<p>"You'd ride in six lessons," pronounced Shuey.</p> + +<p>"But how would I <i>look</i>, Cardigan?"</p> + +<p>"You'd look noble, ma'am!"</p> + +<p>"What do you consider the best wheel, Cardigan?"</p> + +<p>Fear of being accused of advertising prevents my giving Cardigan's +answer; it is enough that the wheel glittered at Mrs. Ellis' door the +very next day, and that a large pasteboard box was delivered by the +expressman the very next week. He went on to Miss Hopkins', and +delivered the twin of the box, with a similar yellow printed card +bearing the impress of the same great firm on the inside of the box +cover. For Margaret had hied her to Lorania Hopkins the instant Shuey +was gone. She presented herself breathless, a little to the +embarrassment of Lorania, who was sitting with her niece before a large +box of cracker-jack.</p> + +<p>"It's a new kind of candy; I was just <i>tasting</i> it, Maggie," faltered +she, while the niece, a girl of nineteen, with the inhuman spirits of +her age, laughed aloud.</p> + +<p>"You needn't mind me," said Mrs. Ellis cheerfully; "I'm eating potatoes +now!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Maggie!" Miss Hopkins breathed the words between envy and +disapproval.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ellis tossed her brown head airily, not a whit abashed. "And I had +beer for luncheon, and I'm going to have champagne for dinner."</p> + +<p>"Maggie, how do you dare? Did they—did they taste good?"</p> + +<p>"They tasted <i>heavenly</i>, Lorania. Pass me the candy. I am going to try +something new—the thinningest thing there is. I read in the paper of +one woman who lost forty pounds in three months, and is losing still!"</p> + +<p>"If it is obesity pills, I—"</p> + +<p>"It isn't; it's a bicycle. Lorania, you and I must ride! Sibyl Hopkins, +you heartless child, what are you laughing at?"</p> + +<p>Lorania rose; in the glass over the mantel her figure returned her gaze. +There was no mistake (except that, as is often the case with stout +people, <i>that</i> glass always increased her size), she was a stout lady. +She was taller than the average of women, and well proportioned, and +still light on her feet; but she could not blink away the records; she +was heavy on the scales. Did she stand looking at herself squarely, her +form was shapely enough, although larger than she could wish; but the +full force of the revelation fell when she allowed herself a profile +view, she having what is called "a round waist," and being almost as +large one way as another. Yet Lorania was only thirty-three years old, +and was of no mind to retire from society, and have a special phaeton +built for her use, and hear from her mother's friends how much her +mother weighed before her death.</p> + +<p>"How should <i>I</i> look on a wheel?" she asked, even as Mrs. Ellis had +asked before; and Mrs. Ellis stoutly answered, "You'd look <i>noble</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Shuey will teach us," she went on, "and we can have a track made in +your pasture, where nobody can see us learning. Lorania, there's nothing +like it. Let me bring you the bicycle edition of <i>Harper's Bazar</i>."</p> + +<p>Miss Hopkins capitulated at once, and sat down to order her costume, +while Sibyl, the niece, revelled silently in visions of a new bicycle +which should presently revert to her. "For it's ridiculous, auntie's +thinking of riding!" Miss Sibyl considered. "She would be a figure of +fun on a wheel; besides, she can never learn in this world!"</p> + +<p>Yet Sibyl was attached to her aunt, and enjoyed visiting Hopkins Manor, +as Lorania had named her new house, into which she moved on the same day +that she joined the Colonial Dames, by right of her ancestor the great +and good divine commemorated by Mrs. Stowe. Lorania's friends were all +fond of her, she was so good-natured and tolerant, with a touch of dry +humor in her vision of things, and not the least a Puritan in her frank +enjoyment of ease and luxury. Nevertheless, Lorania had a good, +able-bodied New England conscience, capable of staying awake nights +without flinching; and perhaps from her stanch old Puritan forefathers +she inherited her simple integrity, so that she neither lied nor +cheated—even in the small whitewashed manner of her sex—and valued +loyalty above most of the virtues. She had an innocent pride in her +godly and martial ancestry, which was quite on the surface, and led +people who did not know her to consider her haughty.</p> + +<p>For fifteen years she had been an orphan, the mistress of a very large +estate. No doubt she had been sought often in marriage, but never until +lately had Lorania seriously thought of marrying. Sibyl said that she +was too unsentimental to marry. Really she was too romantic. She had a +longing to be loved, not in the quiet, matter-of-fact manner of her +suitors, but with the passion of the poets. Therefore the presence of +another skeleton in Mrs. Ellis' closet, because she knew about a certain +handsome Italian marquis who at this period was conducting an +impassioned wooing by mail. Margaret did not fancy the marquis. He was +not an American. He would take Lorania away. She thought his very virtue +florid, and suspected that he had learned his love-making in a bad +school. She dropped dark hints that frightened Lorania, who would +sometimes piteously demand, "Don't you think he <i>could</i> care for +me—for—for myself?" Margaret knew that she had an overweening distrust +of her own appearance. How many tears she had shed first and last over +her unhappy plumpness it would be hard to reckon. She made no account of +her satin skin, or her glossy black hair, or her lustrous violet eyes +with their long black lashes, or her flashing white teeth; she glanced +dismally at her shape and scornfully at her features, good, honest, +irregular American features, that might not satisfy a Greek critic, but +suited each other and pleased her countrymen. And then she would sigh +heavily over her figure. Her friend had not the heart to impute the +marquis' beautiful, artless compliments to mercenary motives. After all, +the Italian was a good fellow, according to the point of view of his own +race, if he did intend to live on his wife's money, and had a very +varied assortment of memories of women.</p> + +<p>But Margaret dreaded and disliked him all the more for his good +qualities. To-day this secret apprehension flung a cloud over the +bicycle enthusiasm. She could not help wondering whether at this moment +Lorania was not thinking of the marquis, who rode a wheel and a horse +admirably.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Lorania," said Sibyl, "there comes Mr. Winslow. Shall I run out +and ask him about those cloth-of-gold roses? The aphides are eating them +all up."</p> + +<p>"Yes, to be sure, dear; but don't let Ferguson suspect what you are +talking of; he might feel hurt."</p> + +<p>Ferguson was the gardener. Miss Hopkins left her note to go to the +window. Below she saw a mettled horse, with tossing head and silken +skin, restlessly fretting on his bit and pawing the dust in front of the +fence, while his rider, hat in hand, talked with the young girl. He was +a little man, a very little man, in a gray business suit of the best cut +and material. An air of careful and dainty neatness was diffused about +both horse and rider. He bent toward Miss Sibyl's charming person a +thin, alert, fair face. His head was finely shaped, the brown hair worn +away a little on the temples. He smiled gravely at intervals; the smile +told that he had a dimple in his cheek.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," said Mrs. Ellis, "whether Mr. Winslow can have a penchant +for Sibyl?"</p> + +<p>Lorania opened her eyes. At this moment Mr. Winslow had caught sight of +her at the window, and he bowed almost to his saddle-bow; Sibyl was +saying something at which she laughed, and he visibly reddened. It was a +peculiarity of his that his color turned easily. In a second his hat was +on his head and his horse bounded half across the road.</p> + +<p>"Hardly, I think," said Lorania. "How well he rides! I never knew any +one ride better—in this country."</p> + +<p>"I suppose Sibyl would ridicule such a thing," said Mrs. Ellis, +continuing her own train of thought, and yet vaguely disturbed by the +last sentence.</p> + +<p>"Why should she?"</p> + +<p>"Well, he is so little, for one thing, and she is so tall. And then +Sibyl thinks a great deal of social position."</p> + +<p>"He is a Winslow," said Lorania, arching her neck unconsciously—"a +lineal descendant from Kenelm Winslow, who came over in the <i>May</i>—"</p> + +<p>"But his mother—"</p> + +<p>"I don't know anything about his mother before she came here. Oh, of +course I know the gossip that she was a niece of the overseer at a +village poorhouse, and that her husband quarrelled with all his family +and married her in the poorhouse, and I know that when he died here she +would not take a cent from the Winslows, nor let them have the boy. She +is the meekest-looking little woman, but she must have an iron streak in +her somewhere, for she was left without enough money to pay the funeral +expenses, and she educated the boy and accumulated enough money to pay +for this place they have.</p> + +<p>"She used to run a laundry, and made money; but when Cyril got a place +in the bank she sold out the laundry and went into chickens and +vegetables; she told somebody that it wasn't so profitable as the +laundry, but it was more genteel, and Cyril being now in a position of +trust at the bank, she must consider <i>him</i>. Cyril swept out the bank. +People laughed about it, but, do you know, I rather liked Mrs. Winslow +for it. She isn't in the least an assertive woman. How long have we been +up here, Maggie? Isn't it four years? And they have been our next-door +neighbors, and she has never been inside the house. Nor he either, for +that matter, except once when it took fire, you know, and he came in +with that funny little chemical engine tucked under his arm, and took +off his hat in the same prim, polite way that he takes it off when he +talks to Sibyl, and said, 'If you'll excuse me offering advice, Miss +Hopkins, it is not necessary to move anything; it mars furniture very +much to move it at a fire. I think, if you will allow me, I can +extinguish this.' And he did, too, didn't he, as neatly and as coolly as +if it were only adding up a column of figures. And offered me the engine +as a souvenir of the occasion afterward."</p> + +<p>"Lorania, you never told me that!"</p> + +<p>"It seemed like making fun of him, when he had been so kind. I declined +as civilly as I could. I hope I didn't hurt his feelings. I meant to pay +a visit to his mother and ask them to dinner, but you know I went to +England that week, and somehow when I came back it was difficult. It +seems a little odd we never have seen more of the Winslows, but I fancy +they don't want either to intrude or to be intruded on. But he is +certainly very obliging about the garden. Think of all the slips and +flowers he has given us, and the advice—"</p> + +<p>"All passed over the fence. It is funny our neighborly good offices +which we render at arm's-length. How long have you known him?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, a long time. He is cashier of my bank, you know. First he was +teller, then assistant cashier, and now for five years he has been +cashier. The president wants to resign and let him be president, but he +hardly has enough stock for that. But Oliver says" (Oliver was Miss +Hopkins' brother) "that there isn't a shrewder or straighter banker in +the state. Oliver likes him. He says he is a sandy little fellow."</p> + +<p>"Well, he is," assented Mrs. Ellis. "It isn't many cashiers would let +robbers stab them and shoot them and leave them for dead rather than +give up the combination of the safe!"</p> + +<p>"He wouldn't take a cent for it, either, and he saved ever so many +thousand dollars. Yes, he <i>is</i> brave. I went to the same school with him +once, and saw him fight a big boy twice his size—such a nasty boy, who +called me 'Fatty,' and made a kissing noise with his lips just to scare +me—and poor little Cyril Winslow got awfully beaten, and when I saw him +on the ground, with his nose bleeding and that big brute pounding him, I +ran to the water-bucket, and poured the whole bucket on that big +bullying boy and stopped the fight, just as the teacher got on the +scene. I cried over little Cyril Winslow. He was crying himself. 'I +ain't crying because he hurt me,' he sobbed; 'I'm crying because I'm so +mad I didn't lick him!' I wonder if he remembers that episode?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Mrs. Ellis.</p> + +<p>"Maggie, what makes you think he is falling in love with Sibyl?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ellis laughed. "I dare say he <i>isn't</i> in love with Sibyl," said +she. "I think the main reason was his always riding by here instead of +taking the shorter road down the other street."</p> + +<p>"Does he always ride by here? I hadn't noticed."</p> + +<p>"Always!" said Mrs. Ellis. "<i>I</i> had noticed."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry for him," said Lorania, musingly. "I think Sibyl is very +much taken with that young Captain Carr at the Arsenal. Young girls +always affect the army. He is a nice fellow, but I don't think he is the +man Winslow is. Now, Maggie, advise me about the suit. I don't want to +look like the escaped fat lady of a museum."</p> + +<p>Lorania thought no more of Sibyl's love affairs. If she thought of the +Winslows, it was to wish that Mrs. Winslow would sell or rent her +pasture, which, in addition to her own and Mrs. Ellis' pastures thrown +into one, would make such a delightful bicycle track.</p> + +<p>The Winslow house was very different from the two villas that were the +pride of Fairport. A little story and a half cottage peeped out on the +road behind the tall maples that were planted when Winslow was a boy. +But there was a wonderful green velvet lawn, and the tulips and sweet +peas and pansies that blazed softly nearer the house were as beautiful +as those over which Miss Lorania's gardener toiled and worried.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Winslow was a little woman who showed the fierce struggle of her +early life only in the deeper lines between her delicate eyebrows and +the expression of melancholy patience in her brown eyes.</p> + +<p>She always wore a widow's cap and a black gown. In the mornings she +donned a blue figured apron of stout and serviceable stuff; in the +afternoon, an apron of that sheer white lawn used by bishops and smart +young waitresses. Of an afternoon, in warm weather, she was accustomed +to sit on the eastern piazza, next to the Hopkins place, and rock as she +sewed. She was thus sitting and sewing when she beheld an extraordinary +procession cross the Hopkins lawn. First marched the tall trainer, Shuey +Cardigan, who worked by day in the Lossing furniture factory, and gave +bicycle lessons at the armory evenings. He was clad in a white sweater +and buff leggings, and was wheeling a lady's bicycle. Behind him walked +Miss Hopkins in a gray suit, the skirt of which only came to her +ankles—she, always so dignified in her toilets.</p> + +<p>"Land's sakes!" gasped Mrs. Winslow, "if she ain't going to ride a bike! +Well, what next?"</p> + +<p>What really happened next was the sneaking (for no other word does +justice to the cautious and circuitous movements of her) of Mrs. Winslow +to the stable, which had one window facing the Hopkins pasture. No cows +were grazing in the pasture. All around the grassy plateau twinkled a +broad brownish-yellow track. At one side of this track a bench had been +placed, and a table, pleasing to the eye, with jugs and glasses. Mrs. +Ellis, in a suit of the same undignified brevity and ease as Miss +Hopkins', sat on the bench supporting her own wheel. Shuey Cardigan was +drawn up to his full six feet of strength, and, one arm in the air, was +explaining the theory of the balance of power. It was an uncanny moment +to Lorania. She eyed the glistening, restless thing that slipped beneath +her hand, and her fingers trembled. If she could have fled in secret she +would. But since flight was not possible, she assumed a firm expression. +Mrs. Ellis wore a smile of studied and sickly cheerfulness.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think it is very <i>high</i>?" said Lorania. "I can <i>never</i> get up +on it!"</p> + +<p>"It will be by the block at first," said Shuey, in the soothing tones of +a jockey to a nervous horse; "it's easy by the block. And I'll be +steadying it, of course."</p> + +<p>"Don't they have any with larger saddles? It is a <i>very</i> small saddle."</p> + +<p>"They're all of a size. It wouldn't look sporty larger; it would look +like a special make. Yous wouldn't want a special make."</p> + +<p>Lorania thought that she would be thankful for a special make, but she +suppressed the unsportsmanlike thought. "The pedals are very small, too, +Cardigan. Are you <i>sure</i> they can hold me?"</p> + +<p>"They could hold two of ye, Miss Hopkins. Now sit aisy and graceful as +ye would on your chair at home, hold the shoulders back, and toe in a +bit on the pedals—ye won't be skinning your ankles so much then—and +hold your foot up ready to get the other pedal. Hold light on the +steering-bar. Push off hard. <i>Now!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Will you hold me? I'm going—Oh, it's like riding an earthquake!"</p> + +<p>Here Shuey made a run, letting the wheel have its own wild way—to teach +the balance. "Keep the front wheel under you!" he cried cheerfully. +"Niver mind <i>where</i> you go. Keep a-pedalling; whatever you do, keep +a-pedalling!"</p> + +<p>"But I haven't got but one pedal!" gasped the rider.</p> + +<p>"Ye lost it?"</p> + +<p>"No; I <i>never had</i> but one! Oh, don't let me fall!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, ye lost it in the beginning; now, then, I'll hold it steady, and +you get both feet right. Here we go!"</p> + +<p>Swaying frightfully from side to side, and wrenched from capsizing the +wheel by the full exercise of Shuey's great muscles, Miss Hopkins reeled +over the track. At short intervals she lost her pedals, and her feet, +for some strange reason, instead of seeking the lost, simply curled up +as if afraid of being hit. She gripped the steering-handles with an iron +grasp, and her turns were such as an engine makes. Nevertheless Shuey +got her up the track for some hundred feet, and then by a herculean +sweep turned her round and rolled her back to the block. It was at this +painful moment, when her whole being was concentrated on the effort to +keep from toppling against Shuey, and even more to keep from toppling +away from him, that Lorania's strained gaze suddenly fell on the +frightened and sympathetic face of Mrs. Winslow. The good woman saw no +fun in the spectacle, but rather an awful risk to life and limb. Their +eyes met. Not a change passed over Miss Hopkins' features; but she +looked up as soon as she was safe on the ground, and smiled. In a +moment, before Mrs. Winslow could decide whether to run or to stand her +ground, she saw the cyclist approaching—on foot.</p> + +<p>"Won't you come in and sit down?" she said, smiling. "We are trying our +new wheels."</p> + +<p>And because she did not know how to refuse, Mrs. Winslow suffered +herself to be handed over the fence. She sat on the bench beside Miss +Hopkins in the prim attitude which had pertained to gentility in her +youth, her hands loosely clasping each other, her feet crossed at the +ankles.</p> + +<p>"It's an awful sight, ain't it?" she breathed, "those little shiny +things; I don't see how you ever git on them."</p> + +<p>"I don't," said Miss Hopkins. "The only way I shall ever learn to start +off is to start without the pedals. Does your son ride, Mrs. Winslow?"</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am," said Mrs. Winslow; "but he knows how. When he was a boy +nothing would do but he must have a bicycle, one of those things most as +big as a mill wheel, and if you fell off you broke yourself somewhere, +sure. I always expected he'd be brought home in pieces. So I don't think +he'd have any manner of difficulty. Why, look at your friend; she's most +riding alone!"</p> + +<p>"She could always do everything better than I," cried Lorania, with +ungrudging admiration. "See how she jumps off! Now I can't jump off any +more than I can jump on. It seems so ridiculous to be told to press hard +on the pedal on the side where you want to jump, and swing your further +leg over first, and cut a kind of figure eight with your legs, and turn +your wheel the way you don't want to go—all at once. While I'm trying +to think of all those directions I always fall off. I got that wheel +only yesterday, and fell before I even got away from the block. One of +my arms looks like a Persian ribbon."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Winslow cried out in unfeigned sympathy. She wished Miss Hopkins +would use her linament that she used for Cyril when he was hurt by the +burglars at the bank; he was bruised "terrible."</p> + +<p>"That must have been an awful time to you," said Lorania, looking with +more interest than she had ever felt on the meek little woman; and she +noticed the tremble in the decorously clasped hands.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am," was all she said.</p> + +<p>"I've often looked over at you on the piazza, and thought how cozy you +looked. Mr. Winslow always seems to be home evenings."</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am. We sit a great deal on the piazza. Cyril's a good boy; he +wa'n't nine when his father died; and he's been like a man helping me. +There never was a boy had such willing little feet. And he'd set right +there on the steps and pat my slipper and say what he'd git me when he +got to earning money; and he's got me every last thing, foolish and all, +that he said. There's that black satin gown, a sin and a shame for a +plain body like me, but he would git it. Cyril's got a beautiful +disposition, too, jest like his pa's, and he's a handy man about the +house, and prompt at his meals. I wonder sometimes if Cyril was to git +married if his wife would mind his running over now and then and setting +with me awhile."</p> + +<p>She was speaking more rapidly, and her eyes strayed wistfully over to +the Hopkins piazza, where Sibyl was sitting with the young soldier. +Lorania looked at her pityingly.</p> + +<p>"Why, surely," said she.</p> + +<p>"Mothers have kinder selfish feelings," said Mrs. Winslow, moistening +her lips and drawing a quick breath, still watching the girl on the +piazza. "It's so sweet and peaceful for them, they forget their sons may +want something more. But it's kinder hard giving all your little +comforts up at once when you've had him right with you so long, and +could cook just what he liked, and go right into his room nights if he +coughed. It's all right, all right, but it's kinder hard. And beautiful +young ladies that have had everything all their lives might—might not +understand that a homespun old mother isn't wanting to force herself on +them at all when they have company, and they have no call to fear it."</p> + +<p>There was no doubt, however obscure the words seemed, that Mrs. Winslow +had a clear purpose in her mind, nor that she was tremendously in +earnest. Little blotches of red dabbled her cheeks, her breath came more +quickly, and she swallowed between her words. Lorania could see the +quiver in the muscles of her throat. She clasped her hands tight lest +they should shake. "He is in love with Sibyl," thought Lorania. "The +poor woman!" She felt sorry for her, and she spoke gently and +reassuringly:</p> + +<p>"No girl with a good heart can help feeling tenderly toward her +husband's mother."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Winslow nodded. "You're real comforting," said she. She was silent +a moment, and then said, in a different tone: "You ain't got a large +enough track. Wouldn't you like to have our pasture too?"</p> + +<p>Lorania expressed her gratitude, and invited the Winslows to see the +practice.</p> + +<p>"My niece will come out to-morrow," she said, graciously.</p> + +<p>"Yes? She is a real fine-appearing young lady," said Mrs. Winslow.</p> + +<p>Both the cyclists exulted. Neither of them, however, was prepared to +behold the track made and the fence down the very next morning when they +came out, about ten o'clock, to the west side of Miss Hopkins' +boundaries.</p> + +<p>"As sure as you live, Maggie," exclaimed Lorania, eagerly, "he's got it +all done! Now, that is something like a lover. I only hope his heart +won't be bruised as black and blue as I am with the wheel!"</p> + +<p>"Shuey says the only harm your falls do you is to take away your +confidence," said Mrs. Ellis.</p> + +<p>"He wouldn't say so if he could see my <i>knees</i>!" retorted Miss Hopkins.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ellis, it will be observed, sheered away from the love affairs of +Mr. Cyril Winslow. She had not yet made up her mind. And Mrs. Ellis, who +had been married, did not jump at conclusions regarding the heart of man +so readily as her spinster friend. She preferred to talk of the bicycle. +Nor did Miss Hopkins refuse the subject. To her at this moment the most +important object on the globe was the shining machine which she would +allow no hand but hers to oil and dust. Both Mrs. Ellis and she were +simply prostrated (as to their mental powers) by this new sport. They +could not think nor talk nor read of anything but <i>the wheel</i>.</p> + +<p>Between their accidents, they obtained glimpses of an exquisite +exhilaration. And there was also to be counted the approval of their +consciences, for they felt that no Turkish bath could wring out moisture +from their systems like half an hour's pumping at the bicycle treadles. +Lorania during the month had ridden through one bottle of liniment and +two of witch hazel, and by the end of the second bottle could ride a +short distance alone. But Lorania could not yet dismount unassisted, and +several times she had felled poor Winslow to the earth when he rashly +adventured to stop her. Captain Carr had a peculiar, graceful fling of +the arm, catching the saddle bar with one hand while he steadied the +handles with the other. He did not hesitate in the least to grab +Lorania's belt if necessary. But poor modest Winslow, who fell upon the +wheel and dared not touch the hem of a lady's bicycle skirt, was as one +in the path of a cyclone, and appeared daily in a fresh pair of white +trousers.</p> + +<p>"Yous have now," Shuey remarked impressively, one day—"yous have now +arrived at the most difficult and dangerous period in learning the +wheel. It's similar to a baby when it's first learned to walk but ain't +yet got sense in walking. When it was little it would stay put wherever +ye put it, and it didn't know enough to go by itself, which is similar +to you. When I was holding ye you couldn't fall, but now you're off +alone depindent on yourself, object-struck by every tree, taking most +of the pasture to turn in, and not able to git off save by falling—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, couldn't you go with her somehow?" exclaimed Mrs. Winslow, appalled +at the picture. "Wouldn't a rope round her be some help? I used to put +it round Cyril when he was learning to walk."</p> + +<p>"Well, no, ma'am," said Shuey, patiently. "Don't you be scared; the +riding will come; she's getting on grandly. And ye should see Mr. +Winslow. 'Tis a pleasure to teach him. He rode in one lesson. I ain't +learning him nothing but tricks now."</p> + +<p>"But, Mr. Winslow, why don't you ride here—with us?" said Sibyl, with +her coquettish and flattering smile. "We're always hearing of your +beautiful riding. Are we never to see it?"</p> + +<p>"I think Mr. Winslow is waiting for that swell English cycle suit that I +hear about," said the captain, grinning; and Winslow grew red to his +eyelids.</p> + +<p>Lorania gave an indignant side glance at Sibyl. Why need the girl make +game of an honest man who loved her? Sibyl was biting her lips and +darting side glances at the captain. She called the pasture practice +slow, but she seemed, nevertheless, to enjoy herself sitting on the +bench, the captain on one side and Winslow on the other, rattling off +her girlish jokes, while her aunt and Mrs. Ellis, with the anxious, set +faces of the beginner, were pedalling frantically after Cardigan. +Lorania began to pity Winslow, for it was growing plain to her that +Sibyl and the captain understood each other. She thought that even if +Sibyl did care for the soldier, she need not be so careless of Winslow's +feelings. She talked with the cashier herself, trying to make amends for +Sibyl's absorption in the other man, and she admired the fortitude that +concealed the pain that he must feel. It became quite the expected thing +for the Winslows to be present at the practice; but Winslow had not yet +appeared on his wheel. He used to bring a box of candy with him, or +rather three boxes—one for each lady, he said—and a box of peppermints +for his mother. He was always very attentive to his mother.</p> + +<p>"And fancy, Aunt Margaret," laughed Sibyl, "he has asked both auntie and +me to the theater. He is not going to compromise himself by singling one +of us out. He's a careful soul. By the way, Aunt Margaret, Mrs. Winslow +was telling me yesterday that I am the image of auntie at my age. Am I? +Do I look like her? Was she as slender as I?"</p> + +<p>"Almost," said Mrs. Ellis, who was not so inflexibly truthful as her +friend.</p> + +<p>"No, Sibyl," said Lorania, with a deep, deep sigh, "I was always plump; +I was a chubby <i>child</i>! And oh, what do you think I heard in the crowd +at Manly's once? One woman said to another, 'Miss Hopkins has got a +wheel.' 'Miss Sibyl?' said the other. 'No; the stout Miss Hopkins,' said +the first creature; and the second—" Lorania groaned.</p> + +<p>"What <i>did</i> she say to make you feel that way?"</p> + +<p>"She said—she said, 'Oh, my!'" answered Lorania, with a dying look.</p> + +<p>"Well, she was horrid," said Mrs. Ellis; "but you know you have grown +thin. Come on; let's ride!"</p> + +<p>"I <i>never</i> shall be able to ride," said Lorania, gloomily. "I can get +on, but I can't get off. And they've taken off the brake, so I can't +stop. And I'm object-struck by everything I look at. Some day I shall +look down hill. Well, my will's in the lower drawer of the mahogany +desk."</p> + +<p>Perhaps Lorania had an occult inkling of the future. For this is what +happened: That evening Winslow rode on to the track in his new English +bicycle suit, which had just come. He hoped that he didn't look like a +fool in those queer clothes. But the instant he entered the pasture he +saw something that drove everything else out of his head, and made him +bend over the steering-bar and race madly across the green; Miss +Hopkins' bicycle was running away down hill! Cardigan, on foot, was +pelting obliquely, in the hopeless thought to intercept her, while Mrs. +Ellis, who was reeling over the ground with her own bicycle, wheeled as +rapidly as she could to the brow of the hill, where she tumbled off, +and, abandoning the wheel, rushed on foot to her friend's rescue.</p> + +<p>She was only in time to see a flash of silver and ebony and a streak of +brown dart before her vision and swim down the hill like a bird. Lorania +was still in the saddle, pedalling from sheer force of habit, and +clinging to the handle-bars. Below the hill was a stone wall, and +farther was the creek. There was a narrow opening in the wall where the +cattle went down to drink; if she could steer through that she would +have nothing worse than soft water and mud; but there was not one +chance in a thousand that she could pass that narrow space. Mrs. +Winslow, horror-stricken, watched the rescuer, who evidently was cutting +across to catch the bicycle.</p> + +<p>"He's riding out of sight!" thought Shuey, in the rear. He himself did +not slacken his speed, although he could not be in time for the +catastrophe. Suddenly he stiffened; Winslow was close to the runaway +wheel.</p> + +<p>"Grab her!" yelled Shuey. "Grab her by the belt! <i>Oh, Lord!</i>"</p> + +<p>The exclamation exploded like the groan of a shell. For while Winslow's +bicycling was all that could be wished, and he flung himself in the path +of the on-coming wheel with marvelous celerity and precision, he had not +the power to withstand the never yet revealed number of pounds carried +by Miss Lorania, impelled by the rapid descent and gathering momentum at +every whirl. They met; he caught her; but instantly he was rolling down +the steep incline and she was doubled up on the grass. He crashed +sickeningly against the stone wall; she lay stunned and still on the +sod; and their friends, with beating hearts, slid down to them. Mrs. +Winslow was on the brow of the hill. She blesses Shuey to this day for +the shout he sent up, "Nobody killed, and I guess no bones broken."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>When Margaret went home that evening, having seen her friend safely in +bed, not much the worse for her fall, she was told that Cardigan wished +to see her. Shuey produced something from his pocket, saying: "I picked +this up on the hill, ma'am, after the accident. It maybe belongs to him, +or it maybe belongs to her; I'm thinking the safest way is to just give +it to you." He handed Mrs. Ellis a tiny gold-framed miniature of Lorania +in a red leather case.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The morning was a sparkling June morning, dewy and fragrant, and the +sunlight burnished the handles and pedals of the friends' bicycles +standing on the piazza unheeded. It was the hour for morning practice, +but Miss Hopkins slept in her chamber, and Mrs. Ellis sat in the little +parlor adjoining, and thought.</p> + +<p>She did not look surprised at the maid's announcement that Mrs. Winslow +begged to see her for a few moments. Mrs. Winslow was pale. She was a +good sketch of discomfort on the very edge of her chair, clad in the +black silk which she wore Sundays, her head crowned with her bonnet of +state, and her hands stiff in a pair of new gloves.</p> + +<p>"I hope you'll excuse me not sending up a card," she began. "Cyril got +me some going on a year ago, and I <i>thought</i> I could lay my hand right +on 'em, but I'm so nervous this morning I hunted all over, and they +wasn't anywhere. I won't keep you. I jest wanted to ask if you picked up +anything—a little red Russia-leather case—"</p> + +<p>"Was it a miniature—a miniature of my friend Miss Hopkins?"</p> + +<p>"I thought it all over, and I came to explain. You no doubt think it +strange; and I can assure you that my son never let any human being look +at that picture. I never knew about it myself till it was lost and he +got up out of his bed—he ain't hardly able to walk—and staggered over +here to look for it, and I followed him; and so he <i>had</i> to tell me. He +had it painted from a picture that came out in the papers. He felt it +was an awful liberty. But—you don't know how my boy feels, Mrs. Ellis; +he has worshipped that woman for years. He ain't never had a thought of +anybody but her since they was children in school; and yet's he's been +so modest and so shy of pushing himself forward that he didn't do a +thing until I put him on to help you with this bicycle."</p> + +<p>Margaret Ellis did not know what to say. She thought of the marquis; and +Mrs. Winslow poured out her story: "He ain't never said a word to me +till this morning. But don't I <i>know</i>? Don't I know who looked out so +careful for her investments? Don't I know who was always looking out for +her interest—silent, and always keeping himself in the background? Why, +she couldn't even buy a cow that he wa'n't looking round to see that she +got a good one! 'Twas him saw the gardener, and kept him from buying +that cow with tuberculosis, 'cause he knew about the herd. He knew by +finding out. He worshipped the very cows she owned, you may say, and +I've seen him patting and feeding up her dogs; it's to our house that +big mastiff always goes every night. Mrs. Ellis, it ain't often that a +woman gits love such as my son is offering, only he da'sn't offer it, +and it ain't often a woman is loved by such a good man as my son. He +ain't got any bad habits; he'll die before he wrongs anybody; and he +has got the sweetest temper you ever see; and he's the tidiest man about +a house you could ask, and the promptest about meals."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ellis looked at her flushed face, and sent another flood of color +into it, for she said, "Mrs. Winslow, I don't know how much good I may +be able to do, but I am on your side."</p> + +<p>Her eyes followed the little black figure when it crossed the lawn. She +wondered whether her advice was good, for she had counseled that Winslow +come over in the evening.</p> + +<p>"Maggie," said a voice. Lorania was in the doorway. "Maggie," she said, +"I ought to tell you that I heard every word."</p> + +<p>"Then <i>I</i> can tell <i>you</i>," cried Mrs. Ellis, "that he is fifty times +more of a man than the marquis, and loves you fifty thousand times +better!"</p> + +<p>Lorania made no answer, not even by a look. What she felt Mrs. Ellis +could not guess. Nor was she any wiser when Winslow appeared at her +gate, just as the sun was setting.</p> + +<p>"I didn't think I would better intrude on Miss Hopkins," said he, "but +perhaps you could tell me how she is this evening. My mother told me +how kind you were, and perhaps you—you would advise me if I might +venture to send Miss Hopkins some flowers."</p> + +<p>Out of the kindness of her heart Mrs. Ellis averted her eyes from his +face; thus she was able to perceive Lorania saunter out of the Hopkins +gate. So changed was she by the bicycle practice that, wrapped in her +niece's shawl, she made Margaret think of the girl. An inspiration +flashed to her; she knew the cashier's dependence on his eye-glasses, +and he was not wearing them.</p> + +<p>"If you want to know how Miss Hopkins is, why not speak to her niece +now?" she said.</p> + +<p>He started. He saw Miss Sibyl, as he supposed, and he went swiftly down +the street. "Miss Sibyl," he began, "may I ask how is your aunt?"—and +then she turned.</p> + +<p>She blushed, then she laughed aloud. "Has the bicycle done so much for +me?" said she.</p> + +<p>"The bicycle didn't need to do <i>anything</i> for you!" he cried, warmly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ellis, a little distance in the rear, heard, turned, and walked +thoughtfully away. "They're off," said she—she had acquired a sporting +tinge of thought from Shuey Cardigan. "If with that start he can't make +the running, it's a wonder."</p> + +<p>"I have invited Mr. Winslow and his mother to dinner," said Miss +Hopkins, in the morning. "Will you come too, Maggie?"</p> + +<p>"I'll back him against the marquis," thought Margaret, gleefully.</p> + +<p>A week later Lorania said: "I really think I must be getting thinner. +Fancy Mr. Winslow, who is so clear-sighted, mistaking me for Sibyl! He +says—I told him how I had suffered from my figure—he says it can't be +what he has suffered from his. Do you think him so very short, Maggie? +Of course he isn't tall, but he has an elegant figure, I think, and I +never saw anywhere such a rider!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ellis answered, heartily: "He isn't very small, and he is a +beautiful figure on the wheel!" And added to herself, "I know what was +in that letter she sent yesterday to the marquis! But to think of its +all being due to the bicycle!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_SPELLBINDER" id="THE_SPELLBINDER"></a>THE SPELLBINDER</h2> + + +<p>Not long since the writer had occasion to pass through the scene of this +story. It would be hard to find anywhere a more pleasant and prosperous +land. Fertile fields and shady country roads and pastures where sleek +cattle are contentedly grazing; great stacks of green alfalfa; +farmhouses with flowers and vines, as well as thriving kitchen gardens; +windmills that pipe houses with water as well as fill the barn troughs; +automobiles and good roads—there could hardly be a greater contrast. +And it is pleasant to hear that the pioneers who suffered incredible +hardships during the lean years are now reaping the reward of their +toil, courage and versatile, indomitable ingenuity.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The frozen soil rattled under the horses' hoofs; the wagon wheels +rattled on their own account. A December wind was keen enough to make +the driver wrap his patched quilt closer and pull his battered straw hat +lower over his ears. He was a man of thirty, with high, tanned features +and eyes that would have been handsome but for their sullen frown.</p> + +<p>"I should call it getting good and ready for a blizzard," observed the +other man on the board (seat the wagon had none); "maybe he won't come."</p> + +<p>"He'll come fast enough," returned the driver; "you don't catch buzzards +staying in for weather!"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. He's a pretty luxurious young scoundrel. Bixby says he +had a letter from him—very particular about a fire in his room, and +plenty of hot water and towels. Bixby is worried lest the boys make a +fuss with him in his hotel."</p> + +<p>"Bixby is a coward from Wayback," was the driver's single comment or +reply. The other man eyed the dark profile at his shoulder, out of the +tail of his eye rubbing his hands up and down his wrists under his +frayed sleeves. He was a young man, shorter of stature than the driver. +He had a round, genial, tanned face, and a bad cold on him. His hands +were bare because he had lent his mittens to the driver; but he wore a +warm, if shabby greatcoat and a worn fur cap.</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose," he said in a careless tone, "you fellows mean to do +more than scare the lad well."</p> + +<p>"We scared the last man. Doc Russell got him fairly paralyzed; told him +'bout the Shylock that turned out the Kinneys, and Miss Kinney's dying +in the wagon, she was so weak; and Kin—somebody ('course he didn't +mention names) shooting that man; and their arresting Kinney, and the +jury acquitting him without leaving the box. Oh, he told a lot of +stories. Some of 'em, I guess, he made up out of his own head; but that +Iowa lawyer swallered the whole batch, hide and hoofs and all. And he +couldn't git out of town quick enough! But what's the good? Here's this +young dude come again. Say, did you know it's his pa that owns most of +the stock in the trust?"</p> + +<p>"No?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. He's got the upper hand of 'em all. They've bought up every +last bit of foreclosed land 'round here. Yes, we was so mighty smart, we +fixed it that nobody'd dare to buy; and nobody 'round here <i>would</i> dare, +even s'posing they got the money, which they ain't—"</p> + +<p>"There certainly ain't much loose money 'round here, Wesley. At least, +when I ran the paper I didn't find it; I was glad to rent an abandoned +farm and trade my subscription list for enough corn to pay the first +instalment on some stock and a cultivator."</p> + +<p>"Did you pay any more?"</p> + +<p>"No; times got worse instead of better. I'd have lost the stock and the +cultivator and every blamed thing in the way of implement I've got if it +hadn't been for you fellows running the implement man out of the +country; he'd a chattel mortgage that was a terror. But what were you +saying about the land? Nobody would buy?"</p> + +<p>"Of course nobody would buy, and we hugged ourselves we was so durned +slick. Oh, my! Now, here comes along one of them bloody trusts that's +eating this country up, and goes to the land company and buys the +foreclosed land for a song. It goes all the cheaper because its known +far and wide that we elected the sheriff not to enforce writs, but to +resist 'em; and the same with all the officers; and we're ready to shoot +down any man that tries to push us off the earth. That scared folks, and +the investment company sold cheap as dirt. They knew they couldn't git +anybody to take up a farm 'round here. Look a' there!" He jerked the +point of the switch that served for whip in the direction of a dark +bulk looming against the glowing belt of red in the west. The outlines +of a ruined chimney toppled over the misshapen roof. The door and window +openings gaped forlornly; doors and windows were gone long since, +wrenched off for other needs. Bit by bit the house had been nibbled +at—here a porch platform taken, there a patch of weather-boarding, +shingles pulled from the roof, the corn crib a wreck, the outbuildings +carried away piece-meal—until, a sadder ruin than fire leaves, it faced +the sunset and the prairie.</p> + +<p>"That farm belonged to as hard-working, smart a feller as ever handled a +plow. Look at them fields, gone to desolation like everything else, but +the furrows used to be as straight's a line with a ruler. He fought the +hard times and the drought till his wife died, and then he said to me, +'I'm beat; I'm going to take the baby back to Winnie's folks. If I'd +only gone last year I could have took Winnie, too. The company kin have +my farm, and I hope to God it'll be the curse to them it's been to me!' +There the farm is. And look further down"—shifting the switch to +another direction—"there's another dropping to pieces. Lord, when I +think of the stories they told me about the crops when I fust came and +put in four hundred dollars that I'd worked hard for in a saw-mill, and +I think how we used to set 'round the fire evenings, my wife and I, +talking about how the town was a-growing and what it would be when the +trees was growed and our children was going to school, and how we'd have +a cabinet organ and we'd have a top buggy, and we'd send for her mother, +who didn't jest like it with Bill's wife—we was jest like children, +making believe! But that ain't what I was driving at. Here it is. We +calculated that we'd be let alone, because the poor, miserable remnants +of stock and machines and farms we got simply wasn't worth outside folks +taking, and inside folks wouldn't risk their lives by dispossessing us. +That's how we sized it up, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't see yet what you're after, Wesley."</p> + +<p>"You will. We reasoned that way. But along comes this company, +this—trust, that's clean against the laws and don't give a curse for +that, and it buys up the whole outfit. I tell you, Mr. Robbins, there +ain't five men in this community that that trust ain't got the legal +right to turn out on the prairies to-morrow. They've all been +foreclosed, and the year of grace is up. Most of us here ain't got no +show at all—legally. And so they send a man down here to see about +gitting out writs and finishing us up."</p> + +<p>"But who'll they get to buy, Wesley Orr?"</p> + +<p>"They're not needing much buying. They're on to a new scheme—going to +turn all these farms into big pastures and fatten cattle with alfalfa, +raise it and ship it; then the lower part of the county, down below +town, they intend to run a ditch through from the river and irrigate it. +They will fetch in a colony who'll pay them about ten times what they +paid, I expect, and—"</p> + +<p>"But we won't let them—"</p> + +<p>"Depends on how many guns the colony's got and how much fight there's in +it. They'll try it, anyhow, unless—"</p> + +<p>"Unless—" repeated Robbins uneasily.</p> + +<p>"Unless they're scared off, <i>unless they think it's death for a man to +tackle us</i>."</p> + +<p>Robbins rubbed his hands harder; he bit his lip. A little space of +silence fell between them. Off to the south, where the little town was +set like an island in the darkening prairie, the lights began to +twinkle; they were yellow and scattered. Even at that distance one +could tell that they burned few to the house.</p> + +<p>"I kinder wish," said Robbins, "that he came from another town."</p> + +<p>"What's the difference about the town?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, none, I guess. But that town, it's in Iowa, and it sent the best +things we've ever had. One woman put in a lot of jams and jellies and +tea—such tea! My wife was sick then, and I didn't know but I'd lose +her. I gave her some of that tea and some jam, and she began to pick up +from that day. It was a quince jam, and made her think of home, she +said. Her father was a Connecticut man, and they had an orchard with +quince trees in it—I remember—" He did not finish the sentence, but he +sighed as he absently ran his eye over the gaps in the harness mended +with rope.</p> + +<p>"I bet <i>he</i> didn't have nothing to do with that box," said Orr; "most +like, the people sent us that were poor folks themselves, and had to +pinch to make up for the things they sent us. 'Tain't the rich people +are sorriest for poor folks. This young Wallace—his father's the owner +of a big paper, and rich besides, and he's got this boy in training for +editor; and when that first duck couldn't do nothing out here, the old +man said he'd buy in, and the young one thought it a mighty smart thing +to do to come over here and turn a lot of half-starved women and +children out in winter. What's <i>he</i> care? What do any of these rich +folks care?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think you're fair, Wesley," said Robbins. "All the rich folks +aren't mean. I know more about them than you." He spoke with a dawning +of pride in his tone, which deepened a little.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know you used to belong to them," said Orr, "and I guess you +were decent to the poor. But you'll admit you didn't have no notion how +it cuts to work every muscle in you and to lay awake thinking yourself +half crazy to puzzle out better ways to make money and yet to feel every +year you're a-sinking deeper in the slough! I've worked five years here, +and 'cepting the first year, every single year has piled interest on the +mortgage. Every year we've had less clothes to wear and poorer stuff to +eat, and it's been mend instead of buy, and we've had more debts and +more worries every year. I tell you, Mr. Robbins, I thought it would +<i>kill</i> me, once, to come on the county. I'd 'a' said I'd starve first; +but you can't see your wife and children starve. I went in last winter, +and asked for relief. I'd that old hound dog of mine with me; you knowed +him. He'd been a good dog. He come with us when we come here, running +under the wagon. All the children had played with him. I took him into +town, and I asked every one I knowed would he have that dog for a gift; +I showed off all his tricks, feeling like I was dirty mean deceiving +him, for I done it so somebody would be willing to take him home and +feed him and take care of him, for it's God's truth I hadn't enough for +him and the children too. But nobody wanted him; he was pretty old, and +he wasn't never handsome. And one store I was in, as I went out I heard +a drummer that was trying to sell goods say, 'I saw that feller at the +Relief, but I notice he's able to keep a dog. Lets the children go +hungry ruther'n the dog, I guess.' I kinder turned on him, then I turned +back again, and I whistled to Sport, and I looked at him and saw how his +ribs showed and his eyes was kinder sunk. He wagged his tail and yelped +like he used to, seeing me look at him; and then I went straight to that +drug-store Billy used to keep—Billy Harvey. He moved away last year; +he was a good friend of mine. I said to him, 'Billy, you got something +that would kill a dog in a flash, so he'd never suffer or know what hurt +him?' And Billy—he understood, and he said he had. 'You jest put it on +his tongue and he'd never know what killed him.' Billy was sorry for me. +He gave it to me for nothing, and he gave me some bones and corn bread +and milk; so Sport had a good dinner. And he come right up to me and +looked me in the eyes, wagging his tail. His eyes was kinder dim, but +they was just as loving as ever. And he was wagging his tail when he +dropped. Then I went home, and the children asked me where was Sport, +and little Peggy cried—oh, Lord!"</p> + +<p>"It was awful hard on you, Wesley," said Robbins gently.</p> + +<p>"I suppose it wasn't nothing to what some men have suffered. There was +poor Tommy Walker, give up his farm when it was foreclosed—thought he +had to—and went off tramping to Kansas City, and after he'd tramped a +week there, looking for a job, give it up and jumped into the river. And +you know how old man Osgood killed himself, honest a old man as ever +lived; always kept his machines under cover, too; <i>he</i> couldn't stand +it. They found it harder—and lots more, too; but I've found it hard +enough. And I know I'd shoot that sneaking, sneering young Shylock, and +not mind it near so much as I minded killing poor Sport."</p> + +<p>"I don't know but we'd all better quit," said the younger man with a +sigh. "This isn't a living country. Three years of drought would break +any country up. It's not meant to live in. We had a fair crop this year, +but it's so low; and freights, though they're lower, are pretty high. I +don't see any way out of it. And I declare I think if we run this young +fellow off we'll only get a bad name for the place."</p> + +<p>"I don't care for bad names," said the other sullenly. "I got a wife and +three children; I was foreclosed a year ago—so's you, so's a lot of the +boys; we're at the end of our string now—legally. So what did we say? +We said we didn't care, was it legal or illegal; that laws was made to +skin the poor man; and we elected a sheriff we could depend on not to +enforce the laws, and we druv off the bloodsuckers they sent out here. +They say one feller was killed. I don't know. Guess that's one of Doc +Russell's stories. The boys talk a lot about the cause of all this here +trouble, and how we're going to have a revolution, and how referendum +and initiendum will help, and how free silver will help—I guess, +myself, a little more rain three years ago when corn was up would have +helped more'n anything—and they talk how they're fighting the battles +of the poor man, and the Eastern bloodsuckers has ruined us, and the +Shylocks are devouring us, and they holler the roof off. I listen to +'em, but I don't believe 'em any more than you do."</p> + +<p>"But," interrupted the other man eagerly, "I voted with the people's +party—"</p> + +<p>"Of course you did. We was going to be unanimous, and you dass'n't stand +out; but you didn't believe in it. Me neither. I ain't makin' any +pretense, but I'll tell you it's jest here—I'm down to bed-rock. If I +let my farm be took away and my stock, what's going to become of my wife +and children? You can call it stealing, or resisting the law, or +anything you please, but I'll kill that feller before I'll let him turn +me out."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think we can scare him off? Killing's a nasty word."</p> + +<p>"My father was with John Brown; he helped kill a man. He never lost no +sleep about it; I shan't neither. Look here, Mr. Robbins, I got lots of +time to think, winters—lots. Remorse and all them fine feelings you +read of, they don't belong to folks that are way down in the dirt. You +got to have something to eat and wear, and not have your stomach sassing +you, and you half froze most of the time; when your body is in sech a +fix it's keeping your mind so full there ain't any show for any other +feelings. And look a' here, there's worse"—his voice sank. "Why, you +git to that pass you ain't able to feel for your own wife and babies. +When this morning Peggy kept hushing the baby, and she was fretting and +moaning, and Peggy says to me, couldn't I git a little crackers in town; +maybe the baby could eat them? I didn't feel nothing 'cept a numb +aching. I kept saying, 'I'd 'a' felt that, once!' But I didn't feel it +now. And, all of a sudden, it come to me 'twas because I was gitting +<i>past</i> feeling—like you do when you're froze, jest before you die. I +read a story once, when I was a little shaver, that kept me awake nights +many a time. It was about a Russian nobleman out sleigh-riding with his +children, three of 'em, on one of them steppes; and the wolves chased +them. The father had a pistol, and he would shoot one of the wolves, and +then the cowardly cusses would stop to tear the wounded critter to +pieces and eat him, giving the folks in the sleigh a little more time; +but every time the distance between the wolves and them when they +stopped was a little smaller; but they were getting closer to the town, +and they could see the lights. So the father, he kept on shooting, until +the wolves were jumping up and grabbing at the sleigh, and the last time +he shot a wolf he used up his last cartridge; then, when they come after +him again, when the lights were nearer, and he knew if he could stop 'em +once more he could escape, he—he throwed out one of the children; +because it was this way: if he jumped out himself the children were so +little they couldn't drive, and they'd be tipped up, and all three of +them lost, so he throwed out the child he loved the best, and they got +to town safely; but he went raving crazy. Well, I thought of him, and I +said, if baby died there'd be the more chance for the others—"</p> + +<p>"Look here, Wesley," his companion interrupted, "<i>quit it</i>! You're +getting light-headed. Get rid of such fool thoughts as those or you'll +be going off to the insane asylum; and mighty little use your family +will have of you <i>there</i>!"</p> + +<p>Orr gave him no answer. Robbins watched his impassive face and frowned.</p> + +<p>"He's not bad-hearted, but he's desperate. You can't appeal to a +desperate man," he thought, "and the other boys are the same way. +There'll be wild work there to-night, unless that young fool has the +papers with him and will give them up. You're a fool, George Robbins, to +mix yourself up in it on the chance of getting a few dollars from a +Kansas City paper for a telegram!"</p> + +<p>Silently the two men looked at the nearing lights, while the wagon +creaked and swayed and rattled over the road.</p> + +<p>"We got to save the lantern to go home by," Orr remarked at last, "else +I'd light up; they ain't got any more lights in the streets. But I guess +we can see."</p> + +<p>There were enough lights in the windows to reveal the wide untidiness of +the street, the black, boarded windows of the empty shops, the gaps in +the sidewalk, the haggard gardens, where savage winds had blown the +heart out of deserted rose-trees and geraniums. In general the sky-line +was low and the roofs the simplest peaks; but it was broken in a few +places by three and four storied brick buildings of the florid pomp on +which a raw Western town loves to lavish its money. Now they loomed, +dark and silent, landmarks of vanished ambition. Robbins, who was a man +of parts and education, with a fanciful turn, felt the air of defeat and +desolation hanging over the town choke him like miasma. To him the +dreariness was the more poignant for the half a dozen little shops that +still flickered their challenge to fate in the guise of a dim coal-oil +lamp in the window. There appeared to be no customers at these dismal +marts; in some cases not even the shop-keeper was visible, and only the +stove in the rear of the room kept a lonesome red eye on the shelves. +The sole sparks of life in the place were at the hotel. It had been +built "during the boom"—a large rectangle of wood, with a cheap and +gaudy piazza, all painted four shades of green, which the climate had +burned and blistered and bleached into one sickly, mottled brown. Long +ago the stables of the hostelry had been abandoned, but this night the +stable yard was full of wagons.</p> + +<p>The upper story of the hotel was dark, and the greater part of the lower +story; but the kitchen was bright, and yellow light leaked through every +chink and crack in the office blinds.</p> + +<p>"Boys have turned out well, I guess," said Robbins.</p> + +<p>"They <i>better</i> turn out!" said Orr.</p> + +<p>No word was spoken by either while they unhitched their horses, led them +within the sheds, and tied them among the sorry company already housed. +Robbins noted that after Orr had laid the blanket which had served them +for robe on one thin back, he flung his own quilt over the other. Then +they stumbled (for they were unwieldy with cold) through the yard to the +hotel.</p> + +<p>The office was full of men, gathered about the stove, talking to each +other. The innkeeper sat behind his counter, affecting to busy himself +with a blotted ledger. Originally he had been a stout man, but he had +lost flesh of late years. He was wrinkled and flabby, and the furtive +eyeshots that he cast toward the stove were anxious beyond his +concealing. Any one, however, could perceive that matters of heavy +import were being discussed. The miserably clad men about the stove all +looked sullen. There was none of the easy-going badinage so habitual +with Westerners. They exchanged glances rather than words; what words +were spoken were uttered in low tones.</p> + +<p>"Where is he?" said Orr, in the same undertone to a large man in a +buffalo coat. The large man was the sheriff of the county. He jerked his +thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the dining-room.</p> + +<p>"What's he like?"</p> + +<p>"Little feller with a game leg."</p> + +<p>Orr frowned. Robbins felt uncomfortable. A gaunt man on the outskirts of +the circle added: "He's powerful slick, though; you can bet your life. +That girl Susy is all won over already; and she's suspecting something, +sure's shooting. I guess she's warned him there's something in the air."</p> + +<p>"Well, if there is, I don't know it," said the sheriff.</p> + +<p>"You never <i>will</i> know anything about it, either," a gray-haired man +added.</p> + +<p>"That's right, Kinney," two or three spoke at once. But immediately a +silence fell on them. Robbins, who felt himself an outsider, could see +that the others drew closer together. Once or twice he caught sinister +murmurs. He began to wish that he had not come.</p> + +<p>"It would be no earthly use for me to chip in and try to soften them," +he thought. "They're crazy with defeat and misery and the fool stuff +campaign orators have crammed down their throats."</p> + +<p>Just then the dining-room door opened, and Robbins was the only one of +the group to turn his head. The other men gazed at the fire, and the +heavy silence grew heavier.</p> + +<p>The man who came out of the room was young, slight of figure, and he +limped a little. Nevertheless, there was nothing of dejection in his +bearing or his face. He was freckled to a degree, smooth-shaven, and his +teeth were beautiful. He had fine eyes also, a deep blue, flashing like +steel as they moved from one object to another. The eyes were keen, +alert, and determined; but being set rather wide apart under his light +brows, they gave the face a candid, almost artless, look, and when he +smiled the deep dimple in his cheek made it as merry as a child's.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, gentlemen," said he cheerfully. No one responded. Robbins +made a gurgle in his throat, which the newcomer generously accepted for +salutation, promptly approaching the fire at Robbins' elbow.</p> + +<p>"Cold weather," said he. Two or three of the company lifted their heads +and eyed the speaker. Robbins wondered were they as keenly conscious as +he of the young fellow's trimly fitted clothes, what good quality that +rough plaided brown stuff was, how dainty was his linen. He looked at +the home people's ragged coats, he thought of the poverty that he knew, +and the reflection of a sneer was on his own lips, and, somehow, a lump +in his throat.</p> + +<p>"Too cold weather for folks to travel unless they're wanted bad!" said +the gray-haired man on the edge of the company. There was a thrill of +some strong feeling in his deep voice.</p> + +<p>"It does seem that way," agreed the young man with undiminished +vivacity. "I am glad to get to a shelter. By the way, I hear this is a +dry town. Will some of you gentlemen have something with me?" He had +pulled out a flask and was flashing his brilliant smile at Robbins.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you, I don't drink," said Robbins; but he felt his throat +itching at the sight.</p> + +<p>"We'll drink your licker after we've finished our business with you," +the gray man struck in. He was old Captain Sparks, who had been very +bitter since his eldest son went crazy with overwork and sunstroke and +killed himself. The other men laughed. They looked at each other; they +looked with goading hate in their dull eyes at the stranger; and they +laughed.</p> + +<p>"Here, Johnny," said the young man, taking no notice, "run up to +twenty-five and fetch me the bag there, the black one. If we are to +drink to our business, I want you all to join. You are all interested, I +take it? And get some glasses while you are about it."</p> + +<p>The boy whom he addressed, the landlord's son, a lad of twelve, had been +busy staring at the stranger ever since he entered the room. He ran +away, but as he ran could not restrain himself from flinging one or two +glances back over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Don't you smoke, either?" said the stranger to Robbins, his hand to his +breast pocket.</p> + +<p>"Only a pipe," answered Robbins. He wished that he didn't feel an +absurd, morbid sympathy for the poor fool's pluck sneaking into his +consciousness.</p> + +<p>"What are we waiting for?" The captain whispered it to a mild-eyed, +short-bearded man next him; but the captain's whisper carried far. "Aw, +give him rope!" suggested the mild-eyed man; "maybe he ain't so sandy's +he seems."</p> + +<p>Not seeming to recognize any chill in his reception, the young stranger +approached the stove. No one moved to admit him to the inner circle; +this, also, he did not seem to observe. "This whole country looks as if +you had been having hard times," he continued. His voice had full, rich, +magnetic notes, but its unfamiliar intonations jarred on his hearers; +they knew them to belong to the East, and they hated the East. "It's +pretty sad to ride through miles and miles of farming country and see +the burned fence-posts that caught fire from the cinders, just lying +where they fell, and the smoke not coming out of one farm-house chimney +in six. It looks as if the farmers out this way had simply given up the +fight."</p> + +<p>"You've hit it," said the mild-eyed man; "they have. Some of them have +moved away and some of them have killed themselves, after they've lost +their stock on chattel mortgages and lost their land to the improvement +company. There ought to be lots of ghosts on those abandoned farms and +in those houses where the fences are down. This country is full of +ghosts. We ain't much better than ghosts ourselves."</p> + +<p>"It was the three dry years, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"That and the mortgage sharks and the Shylocks from the East," old +Captain Sparks interrupted in a venomous tone; "what pickings the +drought left they got."</p> + +<p>"Pretty rough!" said the stranger, declining the combat again. "There's +one man I want to meet here; his name is Russell—Doctor Russell."</p> + +<p>The mild-eyed man explained that his name was Russell; the other men +looked puzzled and suspicious. "What's his little game?" whispered the +captain. "It won't go, whatever it is," said the man next him. Robbins +heard question and answer distinctly; but the young fellow near him did +not wince. "Are you the one that wrote to Fairport, Doctor Russell? I +guess you must be."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I wrote to Fairport," said Russell.</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope you liked the barrel we sent, and the boxes. They were +going to send them to another place, but your letter decided us. That's +my church, you know, which sent them. And, for that matter, it was your +letter first turned my father's attention to investing in your part of +the country. Oh, tell me, where did that tea go? My mother <i>would</i> send +her best London mixture—"</p> + +<p>"Was it your mother?" Robbins spoke. With a red face and a flash of his +eyes at the sullen group about him, he withdrew his chair, making a +clear passage to the stove. "I'd like to thank her, then, and her son +for her; that tea and that quince jam—whose was the quince jam?"</p> + +<p>"I rather think my mother put that in, too."</p> + +<p>"Well, it almost cured my wife; it was better than medicine, that and +the tea, for, not to mention that we couldn't get any medicine, it put +heart into her as medicine couldn't. I wonder was it your mother, or who +was it put in that volume of college songs? <i>I</i> got that. You wouldn't +think it, but I'm a university man—Harvard—"</p> + +<p>The young fellow caught his hand and gripped it hard. "Harvard? So am +I—Martin Wallace, '92."</p> + +<p>"My name is George Robbins, and I'm a good deal farther back; and, as +you can see, I'm down on my luck. But there's no need going into my +hard-luck story; it's like a lot of our stories here. You see where we +are—hardly shoes to our feet; not because we have been shiftless or +idle, or have wronged anybody; yet the cutthroats and thieves in the +penitentiary have had better fare and suffered less with cold and hunger +than we have. And it's not that we are fools, either; we're not +uneducated. There are at least three other college men in our community; +there's Doc Russell—"</p> + +<p>"I <i>am</i>," drawled Russell; "much good it's done me; but I won honors at +the University of Iowa."</p> + +<p>"I didn't win any honors, but I went to the State University—was +graduated there before I went to Harvard. But—you aren't Teddy Russell, +Teddy Russell of the Glee Club and the football eleven?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am Teddy Russell."</p> + +<p>"E. D. Russell, of course; why didn't I guess? You were there two years +before me, but I daresay they are talking of you still; and the way you +won a touchdown with a broken rib on you, and the time all the rest of +the Glee Club missed the train at Fairport, going to Lone Tree, and you +went on with the banjoes and were the whole thing for three-quarters of +an hour! Well, I'm glad to meet you, Doctor. Let us have a good song or +two together after business."</p> + +<p>Russell unconsciously felt for the cravat which was not round his soiled +and frayed collar; he buttoned his wreck of a frock coat. "Yes, we +will," he began, but his voice stuck in his throat as the captain's +rough grasp gripped his arm.</p> + +<p>"I guess not," said the captain; "business first, young feller!"</p> + +<p>Russell shook off the hand, muttering something too low for Robbins' +ear; but Robbins sidled nearer to him, so near that he was able to +exchange a single glance and to see Russell's lips form the words, +"Watch Orr!" They understood each other.</p> + +<p>"Weren't you from Ann Arbor yourself, Captain?" said Robbins, grabbing +at any straw of peace.</p> + +<p>"I've been too poor ever since the war to remember whether I ever had a +college education or not," retorted the captain with a sneer. "I belong +to the people now; their cause is my cause. Where do <i>you</i> belong? We've +tended your folks when you were sick, and helped you lay by your crops, +and driven the mortgage sharks off your stuff. Say, what are you doing +now? Are you monkeying around to turn traitor or coward, or what's the +matter?"</p> + +<p>"We're all right, Captain," answered Russell, the western burr on his +tongue as soft and leisurely as ever, and no hint of excitement in his +manner; "but I see no harm in letting Mr. Wallace answer our questions +before we fly off the handle." So saying, before the captain realized +his purpose he edged through the crowd to Wallace's side. Robbins +followed him; and the eyes of all the others turned to the three +menacing and eager.</p> + +<p>"All I ask is to answer questions and to make my proposition to you," +said Wallace, his fearless young eyes running round the circle. "If you +don't like it you can refuse and send me home—to make other +arrangements."</p> + +<p>"No, we ain't going to send you home," said Orr. It was the first time +that he had spoken. Wallace flashed a keen glance at him and spoke his +next words directly to him. "But I'm sure you won't want to do it. You +see, I'm your last chance and you <i>have</i> to examine it!"</p> + +<p>They had not expected such an answer. A little vibration ran like a wave +over the gaunt, ferociously attentive faces. Wallace's eyes were fixed +on Orr's face, which did not change. Orr's hand was in the breast of his +ragged waistcoat.</p> + +<p>"You people have certainly had the devil's own time and through no fault +of yours, unless it's a fault that you aren't quitters!"</p> + +<p>"That's right," said Robbins. Orr's eyes narrowed a little. Wallace +continued, not taking his own eyes off the farmer's:</p> + +<p>"This country is all right when there's a good year, but the good years +come so seldom! What you fellows need down here is not free silver, but +free water. With plenty of water you can raise big crops; and down in +this valley there is not the danger, if we dig ditches, of the river +running dry; we can get—"</p> + +<p>"And who'll pay for irrigation?" a voice demanded. Wallace did not shift +his gaze to the speaker; he talked to Orr as if Orr were the only man in +the room: "We expect to furnish the money."</p> + +<p>"And what will happen till the ditches are digged?"</p> + +<p>"There's alfalfa to be raised on all these abandoned fields."</p> + +<p>"And what's to become of <i>us</i>?" said Orr. "I can see where you folks can +git a holt and come out even; but what's going to become of us? Are we +to move off the earth and let you stay here?"</p> + +<p>Every one listened for Wallace's answer. Even the boy in the doorway, +returning with Wallace's bag, stood half scared at the foot of the +stairs, not daring to go forward.</p> + +<p>"Why not stay and take pot luck with us?" said Wallace, coolly. "We +bought the mortgages cheap, and we'll sell them cheap. We'll sell water +rights cheap also. And you will make better colonists than any we could +import—cheaper, too. It's for our interests as well as yours to make a +deal with you and to make one that will be satisfactory. Isn't it?"</p> + +<p>Orr's hand dropped to his side, he shuffled his feet, his eyes turned +from Wallace to seek the captain. "I hadn't figured it out you was going +to make any such proposition," said the captain.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you thought we intended to chuck you all out in the cold and +hog everything. We are neither such pigs nor such fools. You fellows can +help us more than anybody else. Here is Johnny. Now, let's come to +business; but first, Johnny, get some glasses. We'll all drink to the +new deal."</p> + +<p>And afterwards they told with chuckles how even the captain, who was an +original Prohibitionist before he became a Populist, touched his lips to +the glass that was passed over the big map.</p> + +<p>"All you folks here need is <i>hope</i>," said the cheerful young Iowan; "you +have plenty of pluck and plenty of sense and oodles of experience; and +we stand ready to put in the capital. Now, what do you say; does it go?"</p> + +<p>After an hour of talk over the maps, he repeated the question, and the +captain himself led the chorus, "It goes. We'll all stand by you!"</p> + +<p>The blizzard had not come, and the moon was shining when George Robbins +and Wesley Orr drove home from town. A basket was carefully held on +Orr's knees. Robbins was caroling the chorus to "Johnny Harvard" and +wishing a health to him and his true love at the top of a hoarse and +husky voice. Orr looked solemnly ahead into the little wavering disk of +radiance that their lantern cast. Once he shivered violently, but he was +not cold. Suddenly he spoke. There was a quiver in his face and his +voice, but all he said was: "Say, he was dead right. We was so desperate +we was crazy. Hope, that was what we needed, and he give it to us; but +how some fellers would have messed that job, getting round to that same +proposal we all wanted to hug him for! And—I'm glad he didn't. I'm +almighty glad we didn't git a chance to do what we set out to do. He was +slick. Say, what is it they call them newspaper boys? Spellbinders? +That's him—a first-class, A-number-one spellbinder!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_OBJECT_OF_THE_FEDERATION" id="THE_OBJECT_OF_THE_FEDERATION"></a>THE OBJECT OF THE FEDERATION</h2> + + +<p>"I joined a woman's club in the Federation a little over two years ago," +said Mrs. Hardy. "I didn't know what was the object then; and to tell +you the truth, I am no wiser now."</p> + +<p>"You know as much as I," was her neighbor's reply, politely given, the +neighbor, however, feeling no real interest, at the moment, in anything +outside the approaching election of president, and the gossip regarding +a possible "dark horse" which was buzzing behind her, between some +better informed members of the delegation.</p> + +<p>The babble of mighty waters is like the noise that filled the theater. +It surged from the plant-bedecked platform (where it might be likened to +nothing more resonant than the hum of insects of a summer night) through +the auditorium, to the dais under the balconies. The dais was noisy, +always, not because its occupants were any more inclined to talk than +other women, but because it was the rarest thing in the world for them +to hear anyone either on the stage or the floor; and generally, they had +to vote by their eyes, watching the advocates of their pet measures; and +rising or sitting by their example; hence they solaced themselves with +conversation.</p> + +<p>At this moment, however, the quiet gentlewoman with the gavel, behind +the long table, had not lifted her hand; and the upper part of the hall +(which being in good hearing distance, was used to keep silence and +criticise the talkers) was as busy with tongues and hands as its +neighbors. So Mrs. Hardy, smiling a little at her neighbor's absent +glance, listened until her thoughts wandered far afield. She only half +caught the enthusiasm of the neighbor to her right, over an address on +village improvement, or the indignation of the dames to the left, who +were rehearsing the political baseness of Massachusetts. She was +recalling a day thirty-three years ago. She did not see the secretary +behind the table, whispering to the president; she did not notice a +little group to the left near where the silk banner of Massachusetts +fluttered, putting their heads together and gesticulating above their +whispers. She forgot her surroundings and saw only a tall young man +whose ardent eyes sank as they met her own, a handsome young fellow, who +caught her hand in his, as they sat alone in the carriage, driving to +the depot, and kissed the fingers and the wedding-ring, crying out he +was not half good enough for her. "He was in love with me, <i>then</i>!" she +thought. But now? Well, it was not to be expected a man with a great +business and cares and money to think about and political affairs (for +they were importuning Darius to go to the senate) should be paying +romantic compliments to his middle-aged wife. Nevertheless, Darius had +never forgotten their anniversary until last year. On her reminding him, +he had whistled and laughed. "So it is," says he, "we ought to spend it +together; it's a shame I have to go to Chicago; why don't you come with +me?"</p> + +<p>Smiling (yet a foolish something not merry was twitching at her nerves), +she had declined. But she made a good excuse; Darius never guessed that +she was so silly as to mind; and he brought her a sweet pigeon-blood +ruby ring, set in diamonds, from Chicago; and he kissed her when he +slipped it on her finger—kissed her cheek, not her hand. She wondered, +at this minute, why she should wish that he had kissed the hand instead; +an elderly woman ought to be content with a calm, assured, faithful +affection, and let beautiful youngsters have the frills. That evening, +she planned a dinner carefully to his liking, and she would not let +herself be disappointed when he brought a political magnate, who talked +politics, from the terrapin to the coffee. She smiled again, as she +thought how much more of interest she would have found in the +conversation, to-day, after the club's year on Our Colonial Policies. +This last anniversary Darius had clean forgotten. In fact, he had +advised her to go to the Federation meeting; saying, lightly, that it +came at an opportune moment because he must be away that week, himself. +"Milwaukee is a pretty city," he ended amiably, "and there will be lots +of hen-functions and you'll enjoy yourself; but what's the object of it +all, your Federation?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know"—she astonished him with her frank levity—"when I do, +I'll tell you."</p> + +<p>"Well, don't get into any rows you can help," said he easily; "want any +more money? Got plenty?"</p> + +<p>"Plenty, thank you," said she, "although I am going to be rather +extravagant and get some very smart toilets."</p> + +<p>He looked over his glasses at her; and she was not able to decipher his +smile. Didn't he approve of her clothes? She sent her fine eyes into the +mirror of her dressing-table, after he had gone, and studied the picture +there with a frown and a smile, at last with a moisture over her eyes.</p> + +<p>But, although he said nothing, when she next examined her bank-book she +found her credit larger. "Maybe he <i>does</i> like my spending more money on +my gowns," she thought.</p> + +<p>She went to Milwaukee. She did not remind him of the anniversary. She +said to herself that she would seriously try to discover the object of +the Federation; then she would tell Darius. Her daughter-in-law +accompanied her, and her daughter was to meet her. "Quite a family +party," said her son; "well, I hope you girls will have a good lark! +And, I say, Hester, find out what it's all about—if you can!"</p> + +<p>At first, Myrtle Hardy was more bewildered than excited. The scene was +unlike anything in her experience. The hotels glittering with feminine +finery and humming with feminine voices; the placards over doorways in +rotundas or corridors, announcing headquarters; the vast crooning bulk +of the lake, the iridescent gleam of water that came to one in glimpses +as one was whirled down the wide and breeze-swept avenues, amid a dazzle +of lovely fabrics and smiling faces, blooming like flowers in swiftly +passing victorias or rattling cabs, or rippling over the sidewalks into +the wide vestibules where Milwaukee welcomed her guests; the noisy rush +of the city; the ceaseless rattle and clang of the electric-cars which +were like an orchestral accompaniment to the magnetic excitement pulsing +under the decorous calm of the meetings, in the flower-decked theaters, +or eddying through the foyer; these at first dazed the woman unused to +clubs. But only for a brief time. Presently, she began to be consulted; +her advice was asked; she made a speech in a meeting of the state +delegation. There was, in the speech, her natural clear sense—which +goes for something always and everywhere—there was, also, the mark in +voice and speech and pose, of her years' training with the teachers. "I +believe you could be heard all right, in the theater," said the +president of the state delegation, afterward, "will you make a motion +or two for us, this afternoon?" She made the motions; and, strangely +enough, she wasn't so frightened as she had been in the state +delegation; in fact, she proposed a simple short cut through an +unnecessary dilemma with not much feeling beyond wonderment that so many +clever women could get themselves into such a tangle. The applause and +delight of her companions of the delegation touched her. "I'm in it, +again," she thought, railing at her own vanity, but curiously pleased. +Now, her thoughts were back, groping through the years when she was not +"in it." Not the days of her youth, not at all; she had been the leader +of her mates, an ingenious, tolerant, easy-going leader, admired and +loved, shining among them by right of two years in an eastern +boarding-school and a trip to Europe.</p> + +<p>Not in her early married life, either; although, at first, Darius was +poor and the great wagon manufactory was but a daring experiment. In +those days she knew all her husband's hopes and plans as well as his +troubles. He used to say, often, that she had a good business head. +Those days they lived in a little brown wooden house with a five-foot +piazza; and Darius mowed the tiny lawn himself; and she put up her own +preserves and made all the children's clothes—pretty clothes they were, +too; she was a housewife whose praise was in all the churches. But it +does not follow that she had ceased to be a leader, far from it; she was +the president of the "Ladies' Sewing Society" of her church; and of the +first woman's club, classically named the "Clionian." She was a +progressive spirit; she it was who introduced the regular motion into +the business meetings; before her reign it having been the artless +custom of the societies to talk until the discussion either languished +or grew too violent, when some promoter of harmony would call out, "Let +us put it to vote," whereupon there would be a few timid ayes and a +self-respecting silence instead of no; and the measure would be adopted. +Pertaining to this custom was an inevitable sequel of plaintive +criticism from all the modest souls who "didn't like to speak," but who +were full of foreboding wisdom. Myrtle Hardy was one of the few who +could speak; and she was considered to speak very much to the point. +Those days, she was keenly interested in all the life of a young, +hopeful, bustling little western city. She belonged to a musical +society and would rise at five in the morning to practice, and she was +one of an anxious band of women who had bought a library and were +running an amateur entertainment bureau to support it. Then, Darrie was +in home-made knickerbockers; Myrtie was a sweet, little, loving hoyden +who was her mother's despair because she would climb trees in her white +frocks; Ralph was a baby, and the two little girls that died were their +mother's tiny helpers, with the willingest little hands and feet. +Sitting there in the crowded and noisy theater, a quiver ran over the +mother's face. Her friends had forgotten, the brothers and sisters had +forgotten, even Darius seemed to forget; but, day and night, she +remembered the eager little faces, lighting so happily at her praise, +the shining little heads that used to nestle against her heart. The two +died of scarlet fever in one terrible week. In that week, the first gray +threads had crept into Myrtle Hardy's beautiful brown hair. She was +nurse and comforter and helper, then, to Darius. She felt her eyes cloud +with the vision of him, as he flung himself on the babies' little bed, +sobbing in the terrible, racking passion of a man's grief. "Not now, +dear, not now, not till the others are safe," she had whispered; "we +have them still; they need us."</p> + +<p>She wondered was it after the babies went that she began to drop out of +things. Somehow she was so busy comforting Darius and nursing the others +back to health, and crowding back her own ceaseless grief out of sight; +and thinking of cheerful things to say and new interests for the others, +that the library passed out of corporate existence and into endowed rest +with hardly a thought from her. Nearly at the same time, the musical +society perished in a cataclysm, due to the sensitive musical +temperament, and the literary society died of inanition, after browsing +through literature from Milton to Dante; and after each member had +written one or two papers, thus sating the natural curiosity of the +other members. Myrtle did not lift a hand to save either of the +societies. She heard the wrathful accusations of the musical warriors, +and put in the unappreciated word for peace, but did not resent its +failure. She consoled the literary mourners with the reflection that +they could read up about things in the magazines or the books of the new +library; and masked her secret listlessness with perfunctory regret. +Long after, she came to wonder whether it was not she who went into +prison, then; rather than the world that left her on one side. Did she +not gently but rigidly exclude the friends who would have called upon +her and shut herself apart with her own? Continually, she used to pray +for cheerfuless, for patience; but it never occurred to her to pray for +interest. When other societies were formed, she did not care to join +them; she followed her own advice and read apart by herself. By and by, +although so much more of a personage, she was no longer beset with +invitations. The younger women organized a new club with new methods; +and Myrtle Hardy read her books, peacefully, on her wide piazzas, amid +her plants and flowers. When Myrtie came back from college, Darius asked +her wasn't she going to help Myrtie by joining the club with her?</p> + +<p>"Dear, no," said she, blithely, "they are all so young."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you get up a club of your own, then, and take in the other +left outs?" said he.</p> + +<p>"I don't fancy women's clubs much; you know I did belong to them; they +are half-baked things, and they take their own improvement with such +deadly seriousness. And it is such a smattering that you get in them. A +smattering is always forgotten; unless you know a lot about a thing you +forget it all."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, you know best what you like," said Darius, easily; "I only +thought you seemed a little dull." He dropped the subject; but she +repeated his words, often to herself; he never had thought her dull, +before. She noticed that Myrtie did not talk of her club. She was +puzzled. Outwardly, Myrtie was a handsome young woman with a highbred +repose of manner which she had acquired as a college editor and the +protector of new girls; inwardly, she was still shy, desperately in +dread of awkwardness, and brimming with enthusiasms. Not until she was +about to be married did her mother find a trace of her little girl in +this gently haughty young creature. And, then, there remained only +Myrtie's last photographs and Myrtie's empty chamber, and the weekly +letters for her mother's hungry heart. "I am not sure I know her," she +would often muse, those days, "I am only sure she doesn't know me!"</p> + +<p>Myrtie lived in Chicago; she had married very well indeed; and had a +prosperous husband who was a graduate of Harvard and dallied with +reform; and there were two sweet little children who called Mrs. Hardy +"Granny"; and Myrtie always consulted her mother when they were ill; she +was a devoted daughter. "When my dear mother was alive," said Mrs. +Hardy, smiling rather grimly, "grannies were not very nice old cronies +who smoked pipes in the chimney corner; and 'Grandma' was good enough +for any grandmother; now, 'Grandma' is provincial and <i>I</i> am a granny, +myself. It is a little puzzling."</p> + +<p>The children were all out of the house, now. Ralph, the youngest, was at +college; she was well acquainted with him; she used to write him about +the books she read and he wrote her about the boys and football; she +knew a great deal about football. She lived in a stately new colonial +house with quaint little window-panes wherever they would not obstruct +the view, and snowy tiled bath-rooms, such as no colonial ever knew; and +terraces decked with pink and blue hydrangeas; and dazzling window +gardens. Myrtie had been as kind as possible about the house; and +Myrtie's taste was charming; it had been an education in colonial +history as well as architecture to have Myrtie help build the house; +even the architect was deferential to her. Across the street was +Darrie's less costly but no less correctly charming house. Hester had +done Myrtie's architectural bidding, also. Darrie was the best of sons. +She was proud of him; and his father depended more and more on him. She +loved his wife; and his children were her vivid delight. Darrie used to +fetch her flowers and new plants for the window gardens; and tell her +about the children's funny sayings. Darius, her husband, grew kinder and +more generous all the time; he gave her a check-book of her own; she +told her old friends that she had the best husband and children in the +world; and that she was a grateful woman; she duly remembered her +abundant mercies in her prayers; and yet—and yet she began to feel +herself retired. A most respectable position, that of a retired officer; +but, somehow, generals and admirals do not covet it. Nor did Myrtle +Hardy. She had been in the center of her own stage; now she felt herself +most gently, most civilly, pushed into the wings. Her daughter-in-law, +with all her admiration and her dutiful respect, had interests which she +never discussed; had a point of view and ideals which were outside her +comprehension. She felt fatigued and puzzled when she heard the younger +generation's familiar speech with itself. "I am not in it," she said to +herself. Darius, too, no longer consulted her; the old fashion of +confidence had somehow slipped away; he had not very much to say when +they were alone; and he was beginning to call her "Mother." Myrtle Hardy +considered. She thought for weeks and thought hard. She sat in her +sewing-room, up-stairs, where were the only two rocking-chairs that +Myrtie's impeccable taste had allowed to abide in the house. She sat +first in one and then in the other of the chairs, her needlework +unheeded in her lap; and watched her little grandson and his sister +playing while the nurse made an interminable German lace on the back +porch; and just across from her window, Hester, her daughter-in-law, sat +amid a heap of books, reading and making notes. "That child has been +studying for three months, every spare moment, on her paper about +'Scientific Plumbing in the Modern Mansion.'" Mrs. Hardy muttered, with +a frown, "well, I hope she will know something, if she keeps her mind! +That was not the way we prepared club papers in my day; we decided on +our subjects one meeting and we read our essays on them the next; and +two weeks was enough for us; now, they spend a half year making a +programme and have it hanging over them a year in advance." She watched +her daughter-in-law, smiling grimly; then, suddenly, she rose, with the +motion of one who has come to a decision. "At least they are not +superficial, nowadays," she said, "and perhaps it is better to take +one's self too seriously than not seriously enough. And after all, +Hester did find out what was the matter with the laundry faucets."</p> + +<p>One day she told her daughter-in-law that she wanted to join a class in +parliamentary law.</p> + +<p>"But we haven't any," objected Mrs. Darius Hardy, Jr., meekly.</p> + +<p>"Then get up one," said the one time president of clubs. "Get all you +can to join a class, send for a teacher, and I will make up the deficit, +in the subscription list."</p> + +<p>A parliamentary teacher of renown came. She was also a teacher of +expression—that was her poetical word. Hester caught her breath the +first time her mother-in-law rose in the class to "speak to the motion." +She embraced her with beaming eyes and the prettiest rose of delight on +her cheeks. "Oh, how did you learn it?" she sighed, happily, "you are +the best of us all!"</p> + +<p>"I took some private lessons in Chicago," said Mrs. Hardy—her quiet +manner did not betray an unexpected thrill.</p> + +<p>"You're <i>beautiful</i>!" cried Hester.</p> + +<p>After that, Hester always seconded her mother-in-law's motions; and +fought in the mimic debates as valiantly on her side as a natural +reticence would let her. It was odd (to Mrs. Hardy) what a different +relation grew up between them; a sense of comradeship and the pleasures +of partisanship, wherein it is not only the leader who exults in the +winning fray, the follower has a simpler and a nobler joy. The first +natural consequence of Hester's admiration was that she begged her +mother-in-law to join her club. Before the end of the year, Mrs. Hardy +was elected president of the club; before the end of the next year, she +was burrowing in books and magazines, as absorbed as Hester, in the +conduct of Great Britain to her colonies. She found herself suddenly +interested in the newspapers; Darrie talked politics with her; and they +were no longer unintelligible.</p> + +<p>"Whew, isn't mother getting cultivated!" Darius whispered to his boy; +and they both grinned.</p> + +<p>"She's growing handsomer, too," said Darius the younger.</p> + +<p>"I hope she won't go to any of those fakirs in the newspapers who paint +you all over, so's you crack when you laugh," commented Darius, +anxiously, "and, say, Darrie, there's a way they have, nowadays, of +burning off your skin and giving you a new skin—they call it being +'<i>done over</i>'; it must be frightful torture—I'm not going to have your +mother's face sizzled up, that fashion."</p> + +<p>"She doesn't need it; mother's skin is lovely," said the loyal son.</p> + +<p>"Her not needing it is no reason why she won't want it—being a +woman—Darrie. Your mother is the most sensible woman in the world, +Darrie; but she's a woman. And I'm not sure whether a woman ought to +monkey with her age, the way mother is doing. What do you suppose I saw +with my own eyes, yesterday? There was mother, swinging her arms over +her head and bowing like a heathen Chinee, until her slender fingers +touched the floor; and then she went to kicking over the chairs—high +kicks!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's only Delsarte—they only do that to limber up and make +themselves graceful. Hetty can kick the chandelier."</p> + +<p>Myrtle caught echoes of this conversation; and was base enough to listen +behind her sewing-room curtains, giving no sign. It was true that a +change had come over her, and that her mirror reflected smarter toilets, +a different carriage, and a fresher charm. For one reason, she looked +younger because she was much more cheerful. "I am a child with a new +toy," she would say to herself. But there is no question that she found +a pungent enjoyment in her new activity. One of the perpetual wonders of +life is how small a figure the stake cuts in the game. It is infinitely +more exciting to make money, for example, than to have it. To keep our +souls in repair they need exercise; and the vicissitudes, the emotions, +the excitement of a career, happily do not depend on the size of the +stage. The great stake, the large stage, count; but they count less than +their claims. What comes to more than the pomp of success (as the vulgar +name an intangible thing) is the elation of using all one's powers; nor +is there any tawdry applause comparable to the rich and fine content of +accomplishment. But often Myrtle caught Darius's pondering eyes and +wondered to herself what he was thinking. Really, Darius was +experiencing the rather piquant emotions of a man who discovers an +entirely new creature in his own wife. By a natural transition his +thoughts went back to the days when he was courting Myrtle Danforth, and +"couldn't make her out;" by an equally natural process of selection, he +fumbled through dim passages in his soul, striving to see the relation +between this assured and graceful woman of affairs and the joyous young +beauty that he had won, the high-hearted comrade of his poverty and +struggles, the tender comforter of his sorrows. A hundred little +trivial, affecting incidents rose out of the hazy years to gripe his +heart. He felt a novel shyness, however; and the only token of his +feelings (outside the check-book) was a habit he had fallen into of +watching his wife when she was not looking.</p> + +<p>Of course, she was aware of it; she was thinking of it at this moment, +while the Massachusetts woman behind her unpacked her conscience on her +nearest Indiana neighbor.</p> + +<p>"And how does Indiana stand?" said the evangelist, finally.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you ask <i>me</i>," said the Indianian, wearily, "we have troubles +of our own; and we are not thinking much about it!"</p> + +<p>At this, her companion (also from Massachusetts, but with a sense of +humor), giggled and essayed to cover her indecorum by asking Mrs. Hardy +if she had attended the industrial sessions. "I have tried to go to +them," she confessed, later, after they had become confidential. "My +husband is a manufacturer, and I was anxious to see whether they would +try to get light on the questions that they are tackling, or would +simply form an opinion beforehand and talk about it."</p> + +<p>"Well, how did they strike you?"</p> + +<p>"They didn't strike me at all; I went to two of them; but the first one, +two southern acquaintances of mine lured me out into a committee-room, +to tell me the dreadful things Massachusetts was going to do about the +color question—not one of which had entered our heads, by the way—and +the other meeting, I sat back in the hall and couldn't hear anything, +and a Massachusetts friend came in, very calm but deeply excited, and +got me out in the hall to tell me the plots of the Georgia delegation. +Between them, I didn't hear a word of the industrial question. I'm told +Missouri has been studying preventive legislation in regard to woman and +child labor for the last year; what did they decide to recommend?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Mrs. Hardy, drily, "you see they were studying for a +<i>year</i>; if they had taken the subject for a month or two, no doubt they +would have had opinions; but as it was, they didn't recommend anything. +But what you say about the sessions made me think. I find that there are +two classes of delegates, those who are interested in the meetings and +those who simply go to the meetings to get a better chance to pull +wires. It makes me more at sea than ever about the object of the +federation. What do <i>you</i> think it is?"</p> + +<p>The Massachusetts woman meditated. She was a handsome woman, a woman +with ancestors, it was evident, for the blue and gold of the Colonial +Dames badge, and the enamel star and scarlet ribbon of the Order of +Colonial Governors illuminated the white chiffon of her bodice; and +there were five bars on the scarlet ribbon. "My idea of the object is +simply that it is a clearing-house," said she; "and so far it is +democratic, for it brings us all together; and I," said the descendant +of governors and warriors, "<i>I'm</i> democratic. Look at us. It is not only +that we represent so many different classes, we represent so many +sections of the country. In fact, about this color question, I feel that +it is more important for the north and the south to get acquainted and +friendly, working together, than it is for us to give the opportunities +of the federation to a few colored people."</p> + +<p>"I don't look at it that way, it is a question of right and wrong"—thus +the ardent soul from Massachusetts unfurled her banner to the +breeze—"are you going to do what is right or what is expedient?" The +smouldering fire which had made the deck hot walking all through the +meetings, showed signs of breaking out of cover; everybody in hearing +craned her neck; there were murmurs of approval and polite sniffings of +dissent to the right and to the left. The Massachusetts woman said +"Life is a compromise;" and shrugged her shoulders. Mrs. Hardy put up +the white flag in a mild sentence: "Mrs. Lowe is calling us to order, I +think."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The convention had passed safely to the ballot. The opposition had +sprung its mines; and the regulars had discharged their heavy artillery +behind the proper parliamentary subterfuges. The undecided voters had, +as usual, asked to take back their ballots, and as usual had been +refused. The excitement had risen until it showed in white or flushed +faces and strained voices, in clapping, and hisses; but the chairman's +inscrutable calm never changed, and through it all she held the +convention perfectly in hand.</p> + +<p>Two men had safely run the gauntlet of ticket takers, and were seated in +the lower gallery. They were a middle-aged man, dark, portly, carefully +dressed in silver-gray tweeds, with a silk shirt; and a young man, dark, +slender, in a lighter suit, with a stiff white collar on his pink +negligee shirt. There was an air of distinction about both men; they +looked to be men of importance in their own locality, men accustomed to +command and deference; but nothing of gentler modesty and meekness than +their demeanor can be imagined. They shrank back in their seats and sat +close to each other, as one will observe timid children sitting, who +have wandered into a strange house.</p> + +<p>"You—you don't suppose they will put us out? eh, Darrie?" said the +elder, in a low voice, "not <i>now</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Of course not," responded Darrie, with simulated lightness; "look there +to the left, there's Myrtie. That president is a good presiding officer; +you would not guess all this row is over her, she's absolutely +impartial—by Jove!"</p> + +<p>"What's the matter? Do you see mother anywhere?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir; did you catch that, the secretary's explanation of the +parliamentary question? Pretty clear, I call it; but they're getting in +all their points, I observe, working questions of privilege for all they +are worth."</p> + +<p>"Very clever, very clever," assented Darius; "there's Hester, mother +isn't with <i>her</i>; you don't suppose mother would stay away, this +afternoon?"</p> + +<p>"Never; this is the election afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Myrtie said mother was very much admired and sought after, lots of +invitations; maybe she has gone out to some tea—"</p> + +<p>"They wouldn't have anything this afternoon; don't you see how keyed up +they all are?"</p> + +<p>"I thought I was monstrous clever planning all this," pursued Darius, +with a knitted brow; "your mother forgot this was our anniversary, but I +didn't; I have her present in my pocket; and the dinner ordered; and I +was expecting to surprise her; but if she isn't here—she couldn't have +gone <i>home</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Of course not—there she is, don't you see her? looking fresh as +paint!"</p> + +<p>A lady had risen, her voice, mellow and clear, dove through the sonorous +buzz of the hall.</p> + +<p>"Why it's <i>mother</i>!" cried Darius, "and if she isn't taking an appeal +from the chair; mother has her nerve with her, to-day."</p> + +<p>Darrie grinned; but as he watched his father's face kindle, his own +changed; he laid his hand on his father's, nodding, softly: "I tell you, +mother's <i>great</i>," said he.</p> + +<p>"That little dark-eyed lady is speaking on mother's side"—Darius was +leaning forward with excited interest—"isn't she a pretty creature, +she's little—but, oh my! How clearly she puts it; these southerners +have a natural gift of oratory. Don't think much of that woman who's +trying to call mother down!"</p> + +<p>He was as eager as a boy, the man whose cool head and hard sense had won +him a great fortune; his eyes glistened, the color crept into his cheek; +and he drew a long sigh when the appeal was withdrawn. "Very pretty, +Darrie," he said, "appeal withdrawn, but they have got in their work on +the voters; chairman had to decide against her own friends, and did it +like a Roman soldier. The extraordinary thing to me, Darrie, is how well +they are all keeping their temper. Darrie, didn't you think mother's +voice was good when she spoke; how'd she learn to speak so well?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she took lessons," returned Darrie, easily; "Hester got her into +them; Hester and mother are great pals."</p> + +<p>"I know; Hester's a remarkable girl, Darrie; she has always appreciated +your mother. Begun again, have they? Started something else while the +ballots are counted. Like a continuous show, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>He listened with a slackened zest while the questions of reorganization +and details of the duties of chairmen pattered through the hour, the +rain after the thunder-storm. Then, unexpectedly, Mrs. Hardy made her +little speech. It was an excellent little speech, good-natured, full of +sense, and with a dash of humor. At first, she was a little nervous, but +she was too interested in her subject to be nervous more than an +instant. Had she known of the presence of two auditors in the gallery, +perhaps her composure had wavered. There could be no doubt regarding +their agitation. They turned pale and clutched each other; then, first +on Darrie's, next on his father's features, dawned and spread a light of +exceeding confidence; with shameless effrontery—considering their +relationship—they stimulated the applause; they beamed over the hits; +and at the close they were radiant. Without a word Darius held out his +hand to his son, who wrung it. Then, they both took a long, long breath +of relief and satisfaction. Darius was the first to speak: "My son," +said he, "I have known your mother for forty years and have been her +husband for thirty-three, but she can surprise me still!"</p> + +<p>"Mother certainly <i>is</i> great," assented Darrie, solemnly; he added his +own little feather of marital triumph: "Hetty always told me so," said +he.</p> + +<p>"Look at those women all around her," said Darius, "patting her on the +shoulder and whispering; <i>they</i> know. Darrie, I'll bet you anything, +there hasn't been another speech in this convention that has put things +as clearly as mother's."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Myrtle started when she saw her husband and son smiling in the doorway. +Her daughter-in-law was on one side, her daughter on the other, half a +dozen of her delegation radiated complacency in her wake. "Hasn't she +covered us with glory?" one of the followers called, gleefully to +another. And a little din of compliments fell upon Darius' ears. It is +pleasant to reflect that all over the hall similar groups were exulting +unselfishly over their own prowess and their own heroines. Little did +Darius Hardy concern himself with them. He took his wife under his arm +with a proud and blissful smile. He waved a direction at Darrie: "You +take the girls, Darrie, you'll find a cab, somewhere; I want your mother +to myself. Now, Myrtle, if sated vanity can demand any more, I'll give +it to you in the carriage!"</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, she was gazing, through a happy mist, at the gems +on her heart-shaped locket, murmuring: "And I thought you had forgotten +the day. And you planning this lovely, lovely surprise for me. Oh, I am +so glad, Dar, I didn't know you were there, I couldn't have said a +<i>word</i>! Did I—were you—was it <i>passable</i>?"</p> + +<p>"You're fishing!" chuckled he; and he kissed her hand. But he whispered +in her ear; and she blushed like a young girl.</p> + +<p>Presently he laughed. "By the way, Myrtle, you haven't told me! Have you +discovered what is the object of the federation?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said she, "I don't know what it is for others, but in my +case it is to help me find myself—and my husband!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_LITTLE_LONELY_GIRL" id="THE_LITTLE_LONELY_GIRL"></a>THE LITTLE LONELY GIRL</h2> + + +<p>The golf links were picturesque; spreading along the shore or climbing +through the heart of the island set in the great river; here and there a +vista of the huge bulk of the arsenal-shops; walled over the river by +the hills behind opulent, bustling little cities, the fair greens +jeweled by the sun and dappled with shadow from trees older than the +Louisiana Purchase. A breeze shifted the shadows. Willy Butler felt its +touch on his wet forehead.</p> + +<p>He half turned to take out his handkerchief. In the act he saw her. It +was the same girl who had followed the course yesterday. She was alone, +just as she had been alone yesterday.</p> + +<p>The gallery was bobbing like the crest of a wave over the brow of the +hill; the carriages and machines glittered in slow pomp after the rope, +while the favorites and their caddies marched over the slope toward the +bunkers. But Willy and Dickson had only this one follower, a little +lonely figure, slim and straight and nimble, in white linen, whose +brown arms and brown face against her dazzling gown made the effect of a +Russian eikon minus the gold-incrusted robe. She halted when Willy +halted. With impersonal interest she watched Dickson make a strike. At +the clean, beautiful drive she nodded approval. Then her black brows met +in a slightly worried frown. Willy, club in hand, was aware of the +frown. He was aware—in a sort of subconscious way—that she wanted him +to play well; and he was acutely aware that he had not played well this +afternoon. Even his direction, which had always been his best ally, had +not kept its form. Twice had he gone into the rough, losing a shot each +time, despite his really hair-raising recoveries. Now the other man was +two up, with only four more holes to play. At best Willy could but halve +this hole, at best, with a perfect approach and a long putt. "A duffer +at golf, like everything else!" ran his own bitter comment to himself. +He didn't know why he looked up; swinging his club for a trial stroke on +a leaf. Look he did, however, to catch the dark eyes of the little +lonely girl intently watching him. If she had called to him aloud "Brace +up!" he couldn't have heard the words more distinctly. He almost +thought he did hear them, and gave the child an involuntary, +half-starved smile.</p> + +<p>With the same smile on his lips he sent a faultless approach into easy +putting distance, and he felt absurdly pleased because she clapped her +hands. They halved the hole. Dickson, the Harvard champion, looked bored +as he sank on the bench by the red water-cooler. He had been Willy's +classmate a year ago at college, knowing him as the man who makes all +the best societies and "leads the life" may know the recluse who makes +none; he was conscious of a certain irritation peppering his cool +superiority. To think of the millions that shuffling, cowed-looking, +insignificant chap would have, while he, Dickson, had to slave on a +salary. A duffer who couldn't even win a golf game that belonged to him, +because he was rattled! Dickson felt that the ways of Fate were +scandalous.</p> + +<p>Willy had limped up. The day before he had blistered his heel somehow, +and every step cost a pang. He eased the lame foot by resting his weight +on the other. His gray-blue eyes, which only his dead mother had ever +found handsome, scanned with a certain wistfulness Dickson's graceful, +athletic figure and clean, dark profile. His own profile was irregular +and his figure was awkward, with arms too long and shoulders too square +for harmony; he stooped in an ungainly fashion, as if he had the habit +of musing as he walked; his plain face was deeply freckled. Yet as there +was a suggestion of strength in the figure, so there was the same +suggestion in the young mouth and chin, and something clear and +strangely innocent, for a young man, looked out of his eyes. As he +stood, every muscle seemed to sag; he appeared utterly spent; but the +instant Dickson had driven he stepped alertly into his place and sent a +drive like a bird sailing far beyond Dickson's dot of white on the +green. Somehow a new uplift of energy and hope had come to him; bless +that kid, he would show her that he could still do something with the +sticks! He heard her whispered, unconscious "<i>Beauty!</i>" This time he +kept his head straight, but when the hole was won, he met her smile +frankly with another. The next hole was easy. He had steadied; he had +his nerve back; every calculation worked; and when Dickson stymied, it +was a simple trick (the like of which he had practiced often) to hop +over the ball and roll into the hole, to the artless joy of his caddy. +"You're going to be the champeen," this worthy told Willy when they +trudged on; "guess that young lady's a mascot."</p> + +<p>"I guess she is," said Willy. He was sure of it when at the home hole, +guarded by a high hedge, Dickson's ball was sliced into the stubborn net +of osage-orange roots. When his own ball sailed cleanly over the wall he +made an excuse of tying his shoe in order to get another view of "that +kid's" brilliant smile. The girl herself went on to the bench in sight +of the blackboard. Here she found herself beside an elderly man with a +great head of thick gray hair. He was clapping so vigorously that she +took him to be Willy's father, and sent him a glance of sympathy. "You +been all 'round with him?" said he. "What sort of a game is he playing?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty bad until the fifteenth, and then a wonder," she returned +calmly.</p> + +<p>"Rattled!" he snorted in disgust, as he chewed his cigar out of shape. +"First match game. How are the others? What's his chance?"</p> + +<p>"He can beat them all if he will only think so," she returned in the +same even tone. Her voice was fuller, with a different and more +melodious intonation than those about him; he looked up at her quickly, +as if from a passing sense of the difference.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he's rattled!" grunted the elderly gentleman. "Gone stale, +practicing every minute. Too anxious. Wants to please his father by +getting a little silverware."</p> + +<p>"Aren't you his father?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Me?</i> No. His father could buy me up out of his pocket-money. His +father is Hiram G. Butler. I'm only his boss. He's learning the steel +business with me. I wish I <i>was</i> his father; he's a genius in his way."</p> + +<p>"I suppose his father is awfully proud of him."</p> + +<p>"Proud nothing!" exploded the stout gentleman. "His father has bought +and sold and fought inventors so long that when he discovered that his +son was hatching formulas for open-hearth steel he was disgusted. Then +at college Will took honors in chemistry and was a grind; and when his +father wanted to load him with money, and told him to go ahead and make +all the societies, he sent the money back and said he didn't know any +boys in societies; the boys who ran after him were only after his money +and the other boys didn't want him. The trouble simply is he is too +all-fired shy and modest. Takes his father's word he is a failure +because he couldn't make their fool societies. How should a fellow who +has spent his life in English schools and traveling about with a tutor, +and then is dumped into Harvard, be expected to make a splash among +those snippy young swells? Harvard's no violet cold-frame! The other +boys did, but they were chips of the old block, hard as nails and +hustlers from 'way back. And since his mother died this poor chap has +had nobody to chirk him up. Father didn't mind until the other boys +died. All three in one year; pretty tough on their father. Pretty tough. +Ever lose—ur-r!—any one in your family? Then you know. Now Willy's the +only child, and his father wants to make him over in his brothers' +image. Wants to give him a wife to help! And Willy so scared of a +petticoat he walked two hours up and down before the Somerset Hotel at +his first college dance trying to screw up courage to go in—and +couldn't. Hiram never will get over that. But Willy, though he won't +marry to please his father, is fond of the old dictator just the same. +And mighty proud. That's why he has worked so at golf. Trying to show he +can do some things like other boys, you see. Well, I see that Harvard +dude has got his ball on the green at last. Now it's up to Willy—Didn't +I tell you? In all right! Shall—Oh!" It was a singularly small, soft +"Oh!" which the elderly man uttered, and it slipped out of his rugged +lips when he caught the shy flash from Willy's eyes at the girl. He +studied her an infinitesimal space before he spoke, and he turned a +chuckle into a cough as he said, "Aren't you Lady Jean Bruce-Hadden and +aren't you visiting the Brookes?"</p> + +<p>She said that she was, rather indifferently, her gaze still following +Willy, who was accepting Dickson's congratulations less awkwardly than +was his wont.</p> + +<p>"I guess Major Brooke has told you about me, Jabez Rivers—"</p> + +<p>But ere he could finish the name, she had held out her hand with a +kindling face, crying, "Oh, indeed, yes. I'm ever so glad to meet you, +Mr. Rivers."</p> + +<p>After this it was only natural to present Willy; but it was a bit of a +surprise to have Willy, when presented, say, "This is my mascot, sir. I +lost the game and she made me win it."</p> + +<p>Willy was astonished at his own fluency; but then he had thought Lady +Jean a very young girl, not quite the "kid" that he had styled her, but +still hardly a young lady. Then, anyhow, she was different. Oh, <i>very</i> +different!</p> + +<p>His friend was eying him critically, with queer little grunts, according +to his fashion. "You're not fit to walk," he grumbled. "Why <i>will</i> young +folks wear shoes that don't fit! Say, you take Lady Jean home while I go +over to the club-house with the major. And keep the car if you don't +find me. I'll go back with Standish. And—I don't know but you better +take her 'round the head of the island and show her that motor +mowing-machine—lawn-mower, you know; I want her to see it."</p> + +<p>He grinned as the young people obeyed him with grateful docility, +speeding away in his electric runabout; and bestowed a look of orphic +sagacity upon the officer in white undress uniform who had joined him. +The officer was younger than Rivers, although not young.</p> + +<p>"That is one of the very finest little ladies in the world," he +remarked.</p> + +<p>To which Rivers returned dryly, "So you've told me. And that's one of +the finest, decentest, cleanest fellows in the world with her."</p> + +<p>"As you've told <i>me</i>."</p> + +<p>Rivers grunted. "Go over that lingo you told me about the girl again—or +I'll repeat to see if I've got it straight. She's the fifth daughter of +the Earl of Paisley, Scotch earl, and poor as even a Scotch earl can be. +He has no sons. Distant cousin heir to title. Countess dead. Oldest +daughter married to Baron Fairley; second, widow of a bishop; third, +wife of army officer. Bishopess manages family. She has brought Lady +Moira and the earl over here to give American millionaires a chance with +Lady Moira, who is the family beauty; and little Jean, who is good as +gold, and has sense, but isn't showy, was just thrown in because an +old-maid aunt offered to pay her expenses. Your wife, who knew them in +Scotland, asked her to come here while the Bishopess, in New York, picks +out the most eligible of the millionaire admirers. So?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Well?"</p> + +<p>"Come on over to the club-house; and while we rest a bit, you telephone +over to Mrs. Brooke, who only needs a tip to go straight, to <i>make</i> +Willy Butler stay to dinner—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say—" began the major.</p> + +<p>"No, you don't say anything. You don't ask questions. You have +confidence in your Uncle Jabez and do what he asks. <i>Not?</i>"</p> + +<p>"I will," said the major, and he went away smiling.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>How astonishing to be taking a girl about alone and not be in torments +of embarrassment! But this girl was so nice and simple and boyish; not +the least like those snippy Boston buds! And she knew golf to the +ground; it seemed the most natural thing in the world to ask her if she +was going to watch Cleaves play to-morrow.</p> + +<p>"I thought I'd follow you," she said quietly. "Do you want +to—fire—isn't that what you call it?—your mascot?"</p> + +<p>"Will you? Will you really?" he stammered in his pleasure. "I had a +sneaking hope, but I didn't d-dare—I feel if you d-do, I'll beat my +man; they say he is easy, and then I'll be Cleaves' runner-up and get a +cup."</p> + +<p>"Why not beat Cleaves and get the big cup?" said she in the same cool +tone. "You can if you will. You know perfectly well you can. Promise me +you will."</p> + +<p>"Here and now?" said Willy, smiling faintly, but the light in her eyes +struck a glint in his own. "Done," he added, holding out his hand. Her +clasp was cool and soft, but as firm and frank as a boy's.</p> + +<p>"And now," said she, "where's your lawn-mower?"</p> + +<p>They had reached the head of the island, where there was a beautifully +shaven sweep of lawn, but no vestige of mower; Willy's pulses beat a +thought faster, and he felt himself a master of stratagem when he +suggested their searching for it in an impossible locality at the +farther end if the island. He found that she could talk as well about +other things as golf. There was no froth in her talk, but she was very +witty; Willy, who passed for an abnormally serious young fellow, laughed +several times. He confessed to her that it was more like talking to a +boy than to a girl to talk to her. "I've always wanted to be a boy," she +laughed. "You can play I am one, if you like."</p> + +<p>"But I'm afraid you would miss the pretty speeches, and all that."</p> + +<p>"I never had any," she answered, with her flashing smile. "Maybe when +I'm presented I shall have if we have enough money next year to have me +come out. But I don't believe I shall. If you had four sisters all +raving beauties and tremendously fetching, and you couldn't even sing a +song, do nothing but ride and play tennis—well, you wouldn't expect +pretty speeches!"</p> + +<p>"Why not? You are pretty, too. You—"</p> + +<p>She stopped him with a raised finger and a shrug of her shoulders. He +wondered why he had never noticed before what lovely lines pertain to +girls' shoulders and how daintily their little heads are set on their +smooth olive throats. "Plain truth, you know," said she; "we're playing +being two boys."</p> + +<p>To save the situation he went on precipitately, "I dare say I know, +though. I never was lucky enough to have a sister, but as I had three +brothers who did everything I can't do, I know how it feels to—to be +out of it."</p> + +<p>"But you understand my sisters are splendid and no end nice to me."</p> + +<p>"So were my brothers," said Willy loyally.</p> + +<p>She looked at him with a quick sympathy. "I know," she murmured. "Mr. +Rivers told me. And all in one year. It must have been dreadful."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it was. But it was worse when my mother died."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. I was sixteen when my mother died. And I miss her so now. +Don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I was fifteen."</p> + +<p>They were both silent. The weight of their piteous memories was on both +young hearts, and yet in each was a sense of companionship, of the +sympathy of a common pain. The tears gathered slowly in the girl's eyes; +she put her hand up her sleeve, but withdrew it empty, and the young +man, taking out his own handkerchief, which had surely seen hard usage, +looked disconsolately on it before tendering the freshest corner. "It's +pretty mussy, but I lost the others," he apologized.</p> + +<p>"And you have pockets, too! I lose handkerchiefs to an appalling +extent."</p> + +<p>"So do I." It was wonderful how many things they had in +common—thoughts, opinions, most delightfully human of all, faults. He +felt emboldened to say that it must be a great comfort to have a +sister; he had always wanted one.</p> + +<p>"They're a good deal of a nuisance, most boys think," said she, "but I +don't know why. I know I shouldn't have been a nuisance to my brothers +and I should rather like to have had one. We might have been pals."</p> + +<p>His eyes sparkled; he felt that he was about to make a proposal as +daring as it was original; but he made it, clutching the lever under his +hand more firmly in his agitation, yet not hesitating. "If we are going +to play things, why not play you are my sister? It would be easier than +being two boys. You see I should all the time be afraid of forgetting +somehow and saying something unbecoming, or too rough, if we played you +were a boy."</p> + +<p>She had more sense of humor than he, although she was scarcely less +innocent; she laughed, saying, "Most boys are rough enough to their +sisters. Besides, I don't know you well enough."</p> + +<p>"You know me better than any one in the world does," he answered +gravely. Their young eyes met and darted away. He thought how lovely her +eyes were. Not so much in color or form, perhaps, but in expression. He +wished that he could see them that way again. But she had turned away. +He was worried lest he might unwittingly have offended her. He knew (for +his French tutor had told him) how easy it is for a man to blunder +clumsily into a woman's fine reserves and sensitive modesty; it was a +great relief to have her turn swiftly toward him again and smile as she +said, "But <i>you</i> don't know <i>me</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Maybe not; I'm asking you to give me the chance."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Is that why? Just to amuse you."</p> + +<p>"You know better," said he, "for at least you know <i>me</i>."</p> + +<p>"That was disagreeable of me," she admitted penitently. "I do know +better. Please forgive me!"</p> + +<p>"Then you will play it?" he said eagerly. "You know I did what you +wanted. I promised to win the cup."</p> + +<p>His first gleam of masterful daring did not displease the girl; +possibly, it obscurely gratified her. "But you must be good and win," +she said, conceding the point in the immemorial feminine fashion which +would always march out of a surrendered keep with flags flying.</p> + +<p>"I will be good and win," repeated Willy obediently.</p> + +<p>There fell a little silence, during which they had glimpses of soft +green woods, of distant harvest-fields and of the shimmer of sunlit +waves. Vagrant odors of new-mown hay were wafted to them when the breeze +stirred. An oriole's note rose out of the dim forest paths, poignantly +sweet. Presently the lad spoke, not so much frightened at his own +audacity as amazed at his lack of fear. "Since you are playing my +sister, do you mind telling me your name? Did he say Buchanan?"</p> + +<p>"No; Bruce-Hadden."</p> + +<p>His face lighted as he exclaimed boyishly, "I <i>knew</i> I had known you! +And I have—at least, I've seen your picture. You are Oswald Graham's +cousin Jean."</p> + +<p>"Of course; and you—you are his Yankee friend at Eton, the one who +fought him because he said things about America!"</p> + +<p>"And jolly well licked I was, too," said Willy gaily. "I didn't even +know how to put up my hands; he made a gorgeous mess of me. And then he +hunted me up and took it all back. Of course we were chums after that. I +was going to visit him in the holidays, but—"</p> + +<p>"But he was drowned, trying to save a child."</p> + +<p>"He did save her. He always did what he set out to do. And if I had only +been there—"</p> + +<p>"I understand. He said you could swim like a duck."</p> + +<p>"It's the only sport I'm not a muff at," said Willy dismally. "It's just +my long arms. But he, <i>he</i> could do anything. I don't suppose I'll ever +stop missing him. He was the only boy friend I ever had."</p> + +<p>"But you have men friends now," she said gently.</p> + +<p>"Yes." He sat up more erect in his seat. "You saw Mr. Rivers. He's the +best ever."</p> + +<p>"I've heard about how good he is and how gruff. That's the kind I like; +no nonsense about them. I hate sissy men, don't you?"</p> + +<p>Willy assented, but without animation; he was diffidently searching his +inner consciousness as to whether he himself had not been accused of +being a sissy. "Sometimes a fellow seems a sissy when he isn't," he +offered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>often</i>," she agreed heartily; "but the man they want Moira to +marry is a genuine muff, a horrid, languid-affected New Yorker who talks +like a guardsman and makes fun of his own country. Moira can't endure +him; but he offers to settle half a million on her, and we let Effie +marry a captain of the line who had only a thousand a year—"</p> + +<p>"That was <i>you</i>," interrupted Willy fervently. "You did that. Oswald +told me—"</p> + +<p>"No, it was dad; he couldn't bear to have Effie so unhappy when I told +him how she might go into a decline, she felt so wretched. But you see, +having let Effie do that and helping her out, we couldn't afford any +more detrimentals, although Jimmy's got his colonelcy and the cross and +they are ever so happy. But we can't afford another love match. The +bishop is dead and Ellen hasn't very much; and Lord Fairley has a big +family; he was a widower with five when Ellen married him, and they have +two; and <i>we</i> are so deadly poor. It is really necessary, but it's +awful. And I am sure she cares a lot for Reggy Sackville, a kind of +cousin of ours who is a barrister, and she is sure he will be a judge, +he is so clever; but he couldn't support a wife for years and years. +Don't you think it's really and truly awful to have to marry <i>anybody</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Awful—intolerable," agreed Willy. "I simply will not."</p> + +<p>"And <i>your</i> father wants you—" She looked so sympathetic that Willy +broke right in:</p> + +<p>"Yes. I never seem able to do anything my father wants. I can't manage +men and make friends and run the business as my brothers did. Now he +wants me to marry a girl he has picked out for me; and I've got to +disappoint him again. I wrote him I'd try to meet his wishes every other +way—I'd accept dinner invitations; I'd learn the steel business; I +could ride and run an automobile, and I had been up in an airship, and +I'd try to win a golf cup; and I'm taking bridge lessons, but—the hand +of Douglas was his own, you know."</p> + +<p>"I think that's splendid!" cried the girl heartily. "<i>I</i> don't want to; +but maybe I shall have to, to save Moira."</p> + +<p>"Don't you do it!" he exclaimed. "It makes me sick to think of their +trying to force you into such a thing." He did look moved.</p> + +<p>"Don't get into such a wax. They can't force me—do I look like a person +to be forced?—and poor old daddy of all people in the world! If you +just knew him; we're the greatest pals in the world. But there's Moira. +If I were to marry some one with a lot of money, she could marry poor +Reggy; and Moira couldn't stand being unhappy near so well as I can."</p> + +<p>"Who's the man?" growled Willy in a tone of mingled gloom and fury.</p> + +<p>"I don't know his name," replied the girl sadly. "It was like this: Dad +met his father, and they became very chummy, and they got to talking. He +talked about his son, who is a 'nice fellow' with elegant tastes and +doesn't like business. Oh, I know, a perfectly odious person."</p> + +<p>"Odious," Willy agreed morosely; "a downright <i>sissy</i>! You'd be +<i>watched</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," sighed Lady Jean; "but Moira would be wretcheder because she +would always be thinking of Reggy. And besides"—she grew more +cheerful—"men never fancy me; no doubt he'll think I'm too ugly and +dowdy, and I'm so shy I shall be hideously awkward."</p> + +<p>"You're nothing of the kind!" Willy interrupted; "it—it's the most +abominable cold-blooded bargain-and-sale business! And your father told +you—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, he didn't tell me. It was Ellen. She was so pleased; she never +had any hopes of <i>me</i>, don't you know; and now she says they won't need +to sacrifice Moira. But if the young man doesn't want me, <i>I</i> shan't be +to blame. Now tell me about your girl!"</p> + +<p>"There's nothing to tell. I never saw her. I don't know her name, even. +Only she's got a title; and she is very brilliant and charming and +modest, and I'll be lucky. It's another case of parents butting in. All +he wants, he says, is for me to <i>see</i> her; I told him I should run away +if I knew I were in the same town! But never mind me. Don't worry, +little girl. <i>I'll</i> think up a way to save you all right, all right."</p> + +<p>His face, as he spoke, was stern and dark. She was sure that he must +have great latent strength of character.</p> + +<p>Abruptly she changed the subject recalling the elusive mowing-machine +and the approach of the Brookes' dinner-hour. Willy was sure that Mr. +Rivers would want her to see the mower, it was—was—so typically +American; and if he would take her directly and swiftly home, wouldn't +she go on another search to-morrow?</p> + +<p>"If you win," said she; she felt that she must hesitate at nothing which +would give him that cup. "Another thing, don't you give another thought +to me; you think every minute of your game. If you distract your mind it +may get onto your game."</p> + +<p>"I won't let it hurt my game, don't you worry," returned Willy +confidently.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Brooke had none of the difficulty which she had anticipated in +persuading Willy to dine with them; and she wondered what suffering +friends of hers who had had his reluctant presence at social functions, +meant by their stories. To be sure, he didn't talk much, but he was a +most intelligent listener; and he was visibly having a good time.</p> + +<p>The next day it was bruited about (no one but Jabez Rivers, who had +walked the links with a reporter, could have quite told how) that young +Butler was playing a wonderful game. A dozen of the golf lovers deserted +the great man and his only less great opponent and saw Willy limp over +eleven links, as he beat his man with leisurely ease.</p> + +<p>That afternoon, while again searching for the mowing-machine which that +unsuspected but efficient emissary of the Blind God, Jabez Rivers, had +advised them to be sure to find—after with his own eyes he had seen it +trundling into the garage—Willy submitted his plan of rescue. They were +rolling noislessly along a wide avenue, above which the great elm boughs +made a vaulted arch like the groined vault of a cathedral. Through the +arches filtered the sunset rose. Willy suddenly stopped the machine. He +did not look at her. He clutched the handle of the lever very hard; and +she was positive he was pale, a pallor which threw his freckles into +high relief. But she was thinking of anything else than freckles.</p> + +<p>"I've thought it all out," said Willy very firmly, "and I wouldn't +bother you the least little bit, not the least. And we think alike about +so many things. I believe I could make it all right with your people. I +can do anything, when <i>you</i> are backing me. It would ease my mind +awfully; I should be sure to win the cup. I know that would please my +father, and he'd help us, maybe. Besides, I've a fortune of my own; I'd +settle it all on you—"</p> + +<p>"What <i>do</i> you mean?" cried Lady Jean.</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't need to marry anybody else if you married <i>me</i>," said +Willy.</p> + +<p>"<i>My word!</i>" gasped Lady Jean. "But you told me you didn't want to marry +<i>anybody</i>."</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't mind <i>you</i> so much," said he.</p> + +<p>She was thoughtful, her own mind a chaos to herself. She stole a furtive +glance at his miserable face; something tender and compassionate and +strange made her lips quiver, but she set them closely.</p> + +<p>"You would be making an awful sacrifice for me?"</p> + +<p>He did not deny it.</p> + +<p>"It would be an awful sacrifice for me, too."</p> + +<p>"I know," he acquiesced sadly.</p> + +<p>"Still—I suppose you ought to have your mind settled before to-morrow +or it will get on your game."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's just it! I'd be awfully grateful—"</p> + +<p>Without any warning she began to laugh. "I think you are the funniest +boy in the world! I don't want to marry anybody. I want to live with +daddy and take care of him and be like Aunt Jean, but if I <i>have</i> to +marry anybody, I'd rather marry you. Shall we let it go at that for the +present?"</p> + +<p>"You are awfully good," cried the boy. He wondered at the extraordinary +calm, almost elation, of his mood. That he should be engaged to be +married and not be revolving suicide! He had read of the exaltation of +self-sacrifice—maybe this was it. But how hard it must be for her.</p> + +<p>"I'll make it just as easy for you as I can—dear." He added the last +word very softly. Probably she didn't hear it, for she answered in her +ordinary tone, not in the least offended, that she knew he would, then +immediately demanded a sight of the mowing-machine; since it wasn't +there, he would better take her home.</p> + +<p>"Don't you begin to love this island?" he said, as he obeyed her.</p> + +<p>"It is lovely," she said: "I never thought I could really like any place +without mountains, but I do."</p> + +<p>"I love mountains," said Willy.</p> + +<p>"They were again surprised at their similarity of taste. Motor-cars and +carriages passed them continually; luxurious open vehicles, victorias +and golf-carts and automobiles with their hoods lowered, disclosing +billows of diaphanous feminine finery and pretty, uncovered girlish +heads. Willy marveled over his own ease as he returned greetings +punctiliously. A week ago he would have raced his horse into the darkest +woodland road to escape a passing salute, the hazard of a little casual +badinage.</p> + +<p>"How pretty American girls are," said Lady Jean a little wistfully; +"such lovely wavy hair."</p> + +<p>Willy's glance furtively took note of her sleek brown head and the heavy +braid between her slim shoulders, which had caused him to think her a +child.</p> + +<p>"I don't much like this corrugated hair," said he carelessly; "it looks +so machine-made."</p> + +<p>Lady Jean declined all proffers of seats, even Rivers' invitation to a +place by him in his runabout. She was going to walk; one could see +better walking. Which was entirely correct, but was not her most +intimate reason; in truth she could not endure to be sitting at her ease +while Willy, footsore and weary, would be doggedly tramping after his +ball. He presented rather a grotesque figure, did Willy, that eventful +morning, being shod as to his sound foot with one of his own neat golf +shoes, but as to his left (thanks to the ministrations of Rivers), with +one of the latter's ample slippers over swathings of bandage soaked in +healing-lotion. Every caddy on the ground (except Willy's) was in +secret ecstasies over his appearance. "We ain't out for a beauty prize, +but the champeen golf cup," says the faithful Tommy haughtily. "Yes, +that's a bottle of liniment. I wet him up with it between whiles. He's +in terrible agony. But he don't mind long's he can keep limber. And say, +jest git onto our game, will you? Two up, and first round over."</p> + +<p>Tommy and Jean were waiting when the first round ended, Rivers having +taken the Brookes to the luncheon-tent to secure seats for them all. The +game that morning had surprised all but the newspaper men and the few +who had followed Willy the day before. The only hope of the friends of +the champion lay in the possible exhaustion of the lame wonder whose +unerring approaches were even more dangerous than his drives and his +putts. "If his foot holds out," Rivers said to Brooke, "he's got the +cup."</p> + +<p>And at this very moment, as if fate conspired against Willy's chances, a +frightful commotion arose. Willy, talking to Jean a moment about the +game, could see the gay groups outside the white tent scatter in violent +agitation with waving hands; could hear an uproar of shouts and screams. +There came a quick change in Lady Jean's face, in every face near—the +caddy's, the young red-jacketed officer's at the blackboard, the women's +faces in a passing carriage. At first no intelligible sound penetrated +the din; but in a thought's time a blood-curdling cry tore out of a +score of throats, "Mad dog! Mad dog!" as men with golf-irons and +pistols, raced toward the little group on the links, after a +foam-flecked, glaring-eyed, panting little beast. The creature made +straight for Tommy, who fled like a deer; but his foot hit the marker, +and he stumbled and fell. It seemed in the same eyeblink that the dog +was on the child and Willy Butler was on the dog, his bare hands +twisting its collar into a tourniquet.</p> + +<p>With one impulse Lady Jean and the young officer each snatched a +golf-club and sprang to help him. "Keep off!" he cried. "I can hold him. +Get a strap; we have to keep him alive to find out—<i>Jean!</i> For God's +sake—"</p> + +<p>His heart seemed to stand still. Lady Jean had dropped on her knees by +the dog, shielding him from the young officer's club. "Don't," she said; +"<i>he's</i> not mad! It's Mrs. Brooke's dog—Why can't you <i>see</i>? The poor +brute's <i>wagging his tail</i>!"</p> + +<p>"He is," said Willy; "hold up, boys! A mad dog doesn't wag his tail." He +released the tourniquet sufficiently to free a piteous whimper. A second +later he lifted his hand off the dog, which wriggled into Lady Jean's +compassionate arms as a voice announced, "That's not the dog!"</p> + +<p>The real mad dog—if mad he were—had been despatched by a single shot +from a soldier's gun, rods away; but a panic-stricken crowd had used the +customary judgment of panic, and pursued the wrong dog.</p> + +<p>"And now," wrathfully declared Jabez Rivers to his army cronies, "now +that poor boy has probably put his wrist out of whack; and his father +coming in on the two o'clock train to see him fight for the cup! And +this old fool telegraphed for him to come."</p> + +<p>Nevertheless he kept a semblance of confidence. And he has always liked +Dickson because he was so sure Willy would win. He offered to caddy for +Willy; but Willy gratefully declined, because it would break Tommy's +heart; Tommy's mother was coming over to see the game. "He's a real +dead-game sport," Dickson ended, "and a little thing like a spurious +mad dog isn't going to put him out of the running."</p> + +<p>Nor did it; Cleaves made up one of his missing holes, but he got no +farther; and at the sixteenth hole Rivers and a small, keen-eyed, +quiet-looking man stood up in a runabout and shouted while the great +Cleaves, bewildered but invincibly courteous, shook hands with Willy +Butler.</p> + +<p>"You wait until he has cleaned up a bit" advised Rivers; "give the boy's +girl a chance first—there they are; she's talking to him now."</p> + +<p>Mr. Butler knew who she was; she had been pointed out to him before; +possibly having watched her carefully through the progress of the game, +he knew something else, being a man who came to conclusions quickly, on +occasion. He looked at her now; he looked at Rivers; the only words that +escaped his lips—in a very small, low voice—were, "Wouldn't that make +a man believe in answers to prayers!"</p> + +<p>"Willy's been going some," said Rivers. "I don't know who you've up your +sleeve for him, but we've picked out a winner—a sweet, brave, +true-hearted little lady. Don't <i>you</i> butt in, Hiram."</p> + +<p>"Well, hardly," said Hiram Butler, "since her father and I picked her +out first. But, Jabez, blood will tell; I knew Willy had the makings. +Now suppose you and I put the young folks into the machine. They can do +their courting on the way."</p> + +<p>It may be presumed that he knew, although they took their own original +way to Arcadia. Fifteen minutes later, in the heart of the woods which +they had sought because, although much longer to the club-house by that +road, Willy needed its cool refreshment; fifteen minutes later the boy +was saying, "I had to write the note because I didn't have a chance to +see you. Have you read it?" He looked up tremulously. "I write an +awfully blind handwriting always, and to-day, with playing golf and all, +it's worse than ever."</p> + +<p>"You could read it out to me, you know," said the girl; she pulled the +score-card, on which Willy had scribbled, from her sleeve, and both the +young heads bent over it. "'Dear Jean,'" read Willy; then he added, "I +hope you don't think that presumptuous, but being engaged—"</p> + +<p>"No, never mind that; you called me that to-day, already, at the top of +your voice, too."</p> + +<p>"You scared me stiff—Jean."</p> + +<p>"You scared me first—before I knew it was Flukes. You are an awfully +reckless boy."</p> + +<p>"I will go on," said Willy; "it's short." He read:</p> + +<p>"'Dear Jean, I forgot to say one thing yesterday when I asked you to +marry me; I love and adore you. Yours very sincerely, William Godfrey +Butler.'"</p> + +<p>He said nothing more; neither did she say anything for a space. The +squirrels watched them with their bright little eyes, and scampered +fearlessly up the very tree under which their car had halted. All at +once she began to laugh. "My word! but you look miserable, William +Butler. I know it is a sacrifice; I made up my mind to release you; I +only consented yesterday to make you easy in your mind for the game."</p> + +<p>Then he surprised her. "That was yesterday," said he. "To-day I know why +all the world has been different ever since I saw you; I knew everything +I felt when you ran to that dog—"</p> + +<p>"Then it will not be an awful sacrifice for you?"</p> + +<p>He took her little cold brown hand; I had forgotten there was such a +thing in the world as fear. "It will be heaven for me," he said. "But +for you?"</p> + +<p>She looked away at the squirrels; she tried in vain to speak in her +gay, light tone. "I—I found out something this morning, too."</p> + +<p>So Arcady lured two new explorers, who, going through its subtly winding +paths, naturally took quite a little while to reach the club-house and +the ovation waiting the champion. Just outside the portals Lady Jean +uttered a little cry. "Why, I do believe! Why, <i>Willy</i>! There's the +motor mower!"</p> + +<p>There in the body, resting amid long lines of green stubble, there, +indeed, stood the long-sought mower.</p> + +<p>"I'm obliged to it," said Willy, "but I don't need it now."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_HERO_OF_COMPANY_G" id="THE_HERO_OF_COMPANY_G"></a>THE HERO OF COMPANY G</h2> + + +<p>The flies and the sun! The sun and the flies! The two tents of the +division ward in the hospital had been pitched end to end, thus turning +them into one. The sun filtered through the cracks of the canvas; it +poured in a broad, dancing, shifting column of gold through the open +tent flap. The air was hot, not an endurable, dry heat, but a moist, +sticky heat which drew an intolerable mist from the water standing in +pools beneath the plain flooring of the tents. The flies had no barrier +and they entered in noisome companies, to swarm, heavily buzzing, about +the medicine spoons and the tumblers and crawl over the nostrils and +mouths of the typhoid patients, too weak and stupid to brush them away. +The other sick men would lift their feeble skeletons of hands against +them; and a tall soldier who walked between the cots and was the sole +nurse on duty, waved his palm-leaf fan at them and swore softly under +his breath.</p> + +<p>There were ten serious cases in the ward. The soldier was a raw man +detailed only the day before and not used to nursing, being a blacksmith +in civil life. An overworked surgeon had instructed him in the use of a +thermometer; but he was much more confident of the success of his lesson +than the instructed one. There was one case in particular bothered the +nurse; he returned to the cot where this case lay more than once and +eyed the gaunt figure which lay so quietly under the sheet, with a +dejected attention. Once he laid his hand shyly on the sick man's +forehead, and when he took it away he strangled a desperate sort of +sigh. Then he walked to the end of the tent and stared dismally down the +camp street, flooded with sunshine. "Well, thank God, there's Spruce!" +said he. A man in a khaki uniform, carrying a bale of mosquito netting, +was walking smartly through the glare. He stopped at the tent. "How goes +it?" said he, cheerfully but in the lowest of tones. He was a short man +and thin, but with a good color under his tan, and teeth gleaming at his +smile, white as milk.</p> + +<p>"Why, I'm kinder worried about Maxwell—"</p> + +<p>Before he could finish his sentence, Spruce was at Maxwell's cot. His +face changed. "Git the hot-water bottle quick's you can!" he muttered, +"and git the screen—the one I made!" As he spoke he was dropping brandy +into the corners of Maxwell's mouth. The brandy trickled down the chin.</p> + +<p>"He looks awful quiet, don't he?" whispered the nurse with an awestruck +glance.</p> + +<p>"You git them things!" said Spruce, and he sent a flash of his eyes +after his words, whereat the soldier shuffled out of the tent, returning +first with the screen and last with the bottles. Then he watched +Spruce's rapid but silent movements. At last he ventured to breathe: +"Say, he ain't—he ain't—he ain't—?"</p> + +<p>Spruce nodded. The other turned a kind of groan into a cough and wiped +his face. Awkwardly he helped Spruce wherever there was the chance for a +hand; and in a little while his bungling agitation reached the worker, +who straightened up and turned a grim face on him.</p> + +<p>"Was it me?" he whispered then. "For God's sake, Spruce—I did +everything the doctor told me, nigh's I could remember. I didn't disturb +him, 'cause he 'peared to be asleep. I—I never saw a man die before!"</p> + +<p>"It ain't no fault of yours," said Spruce in the same low whisper. "I'm +sorry for you. Did you give him the ice I got?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did, Sergeant."</p> + +<p>"And was there enough for Green and Dick Danvers?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I kept it rolled up in flannel and newspapers. Say, I got a little +more, Sergeant."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"The doctors or some fellers had a tub of lemonade outside, a little bit +further down. I chipped off a bit."</p> + +<p>Spruce ground his teeth, but he made no comment. All he said was, "You +go git Captain Hale and report. Tell the captain I got his folks' +address. They'll want him sent home. They're rich folks and they were +coming on; guess they're on the way now. Be quiet!"</p> + +<p>The soldier was looking at the placid face. A sob choked him. "He said, +'Thank you,' every time I gave him anything," he gulped. "God! it's +murder to put fools like me at nursing; and the country full of women +that know how and want to come!"</p> + +<p>"S-s-s! 'Tain't no good talking. You done your best. Go and report."</p> + +<p>As the wretched soldier lumbered off, Spruce set his teeth on an ugly +oath.</p> + +<p>"I ought to have stayed, maybe," he thought, "but I've been doing with +so little sleep, my head was feeling dirty queer; and the doctor sent +me. Collapse, of course; temperature ran down to normal, and poor Tooley +didn't notice, and him too weak to talk! Well, I hope I git the G boys +through, that's all I ask!"</p> + +<p>He went over to the next cot, where lay the nearest of the G boys, +greeting him cheerily. "Hello, Dick?"</p> + +<p>Dick was a handsome young specter, just beginning to turn the corner in +a bad case of typhoid fever. His blue eyes lighted at Spruce's voice; +and he sent a smile back at Spruce's smile. "Did you get some sleep?" +said he. "What's that you have in your hand?"</p> + +<p>"That's milk, real milk from a cow. Yes, lots of sleep; you drink that."</p> + +<p>The sick man drank it with an expression of pleasure. "I don't believe +any of the others get milk," he murmured; "save the rest for Edgar."</p> + +<p>"Edgar don't need it, Dick," Spruce answered gently.</p> + +<p>Dick drew a long, shivering sigh and his eyes wandered to the screen. +"He was a soldier and he died for his country jest the same as if he +were hit by a Mauser," said Spruce—he had taken the sick boy's long, +thin hand and was smoothing his fingers.</p> + +<p>"It's no more 'an what we all got to expect when we enlist."</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Dick, smiling, "that's all right, for him or for me, +but he—he was an awfully good fellow, Chris."</p> + +<p>"Sure," said Spruce. "Now, you lie still; I got to look after the other +boys."</p> + +<p>"Come back when you have seen them, Chris."</p> + +<p>"Sure."</p> + +<p>Spruce made his rounds. He was the star nurse of the hospital. It was +partly experience. Chris Spruce had been a soldier in the regulars and +fought Indians and helped the regimental surgeon through a bad attack of +typhoid. But it was as much a natural gift. Chris had a light foot, a +quick eye, a soft voice; he was indomitably cheerful and consoled the +most querulous patient in the ward by describing how much better was his +lot with no worse than septic pneumonia, than that of a man whom he +(Spruce) had known well who was scalped. Spruce had enlisted from a +Western town where he had happened to be at the date of his last +discharge. He had a great opinion of the town. And he never tired +recalling the scene of their departure, amid tears and cheers and the +throbbing music of a brass band, with their pockets full of cigars, and +an extra car full of luncheon boxes, and a thousand dollars company +spending money to their credit.</p> + +<p>"A man he comes up to me," says Spruce, "big man in the town, rich and +all that. He says, calling me by name—I don't know how he ever got my +name, but he had it—he says, 'I'm told you've been with the regulars; +look after the boys a little,' says he. 'That I will,' says I, 'I've +been six years in the service and I know a few wrinkles.' I do, too. He +gave me a five-dollar bill after he'd talked a while to me, and one of +his own cigars. 'Remember the town's back of you!' says he. 'Tis, too. +I'd a letter from the committee they got there, asking if we had +everything; offering to pay for nurses if they'd be allowed. Oh, it's a +bully town!"</p> + +<p>Spruce himself had never known the sweets of local pride. He had drifted +about in the world, until at twenty he drifted into the regular army. He +had no kindred except a brother whose career was so little creditable +that Spruce was relieved when it ended—were the truth known, in a +penitentiary. He had an aunt of whom he often spoke and whom he esteemed +a credit to the family. She was a widow woman in an Iowa village, who +kept a boarding house for railway men, and had reared a large family, +not one of whom (Spruce was accustomed to explain in moments of +expansion, on pay-day, when his heart had been warmed with good red +liquor) had ever been to jail. Spruce had never seen this estimable +woman, but he felt on terms of intimacy with her because, occasionally, +on these same pay-days, he would mail her a five-dollar bank-note, the +receipt of which was always promptly acknowledged by a niece who could +spell most of her words correctly and who always thanked him for his +"kind and welcome gift," told him what they proposed to do with the +money, and invited him to come to see them.</p> + +<p>He always meant to go, although he never did go. It was his favorite +air-castle, being able to go on furlough to the village where his aunt +lived and show his medal. He had won the medal in an Indian fight where +he had rescued his captain. The captain died of his wounds and Spruce +never got drunk (which I regret to confess he did oftener than was good +either for his soul or the service) that he didn't talk about his +captain, who had been his hero; and cry over him. Spruce, who was a +cheery creature in his normal state, always developed sentiment and +pathos when he was revealed by liquor. Now he had another day-dream. It +was to be greeted by the cheering crowds—again he would march down the +sunny streets with the band playing, amid the faces and the shouts. And +the men who had stood by the company so stanchly would be pointing him +out and telling each other his mythical exploits—and adding the record +of his Indian exploits—which Spruce felt that an inattentive country +had not appreciated. A dozen times a day he pictured the scene, he +mentally listened to the talk—he, walking with a rigid and unseeing +military mien. He approximated the number of glasses a man could take +without even grazing indecorum—for he was determined he would not be +riotous in his joy—and he used to whistle the refrain of a convivial +song:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Enj'y yourselves, enj'y yourselves<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But don't do no disgrace!<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Meanwhile, his consciousness of in some way caring for the whole company +held him a model of sobriety. In fact, he did take care of the company, +secretly instructing the captain in the delicacies of military etiquette +and primitive sanitary conditions, and openly showing the commissary +sergeant how to make requisitions and barter his superfluous rations for +acceptable canned goods at the groceries of the town. He explained all +the regulars' artless devices for being comfortable; he mended the boys' +morals and their blouses in the same breath; and he inculcated all the +regular traditions and superstitions. But it is to be confessed again, +that while Spruce was living laboriously up to his lights of +righteousness under this new stimulus, the lights were rather dim; and, +in particular, as regards the duty of a man to pick up outlying portable +property for his company—they would have shocked a police magistrate. +Neither did he rank among the martial virtues the ornament of a meek and +quiet spirit. "A good captain is always a kicker," says Spruce firmly; +"he's got to be. Look at this here camp, Captain; the mess tent's all +under water; we're standing in the slush every damned meal we eat. +Water's under our tent, water—"</p> + +<p>"I know, I know, Sergeant," interrupts the perplexed and worried young +captain, a clever young dandy bright enough to be willing to take wisdom +without shoulder straps; "I've been to the colonel; he agrees with me, +and he's been to Major Green, and that's all comes of it. I don't see +what I can do further, if I did—"</p> + +<p>"Begging your pardon, Captain, the men will be falling sick soon and +dying. They're weakened by the climate and being fretted, expecting +always to git off and never going."</p> + +<p>"But what can I do? Oh, speak out, we're off here alone. Have you any +idea?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, if you was my captain in the old —th, you'd say to the +colonel, 'Colonel, I've remonstrated and remonstrated. Now I'm +desperate. I'm desperate,' says you. 'If there ain't something done +to-morrow I'm going to march my company out and find a new camp, and you +kin court-martial me if you please. I'd rather stand a court-martial +than see my men die!' He'd talk real pleasant at first, so as to git in +all his facts, and then he'd blaze away. And he'd do it, too, if they +didn't listen."</p> + +<p>The captain gave the sergeant a keen glance. "And that's your notion of +discipline?" said he.</p> + +<p>"There's a newspaper fellow asking for you, Captain, this morning. I see +him a-coming now," was the sergeant's oblique response. But he chuckled, +walking stiffly away, "He'll do it; I bet we won't be here two days +longer." For which glee there was reason, since, inside the hour, the +captain was in the colonel's tent, concluding an eloquent picture of his +company's discomforts with "Somebody has to do something. If you are +powerless, Colonel, I'm not. If they don't give some assurance of +changing the camp to-morrow I shall march Company G out and pitch a camp +myself, and stand a court-martial. I would rather risk a court-martial +than see my men die—and that's what it has come to!"</p> + +<p>The colonel looked the fiery young speaker sternly in the eye, and said +something about unsoldierly conduct.</p> + +<p>"It would be unmanly conduct for me to let the boys trusted to me die, +because I was afraid to speak out," flung back the captain. "And I know +one thing: if I am court-martialed the papers are likely to get the true +story."</p> + +<p>"You mean the reporter on the Chicago papers who is snooping around? Let +me advise you to give him a wide berth."</p> + +<p>"I mean nothing of the kind, sir. I only mean that the thing will not be +done in a corner."</p> + +<p>"Well, well, keep cool, Captain, you're too good a fellow to fling +yourself away. Wait and see if I can't get something definite out of the +major to-day."</p> + +<p>Whereupon the captain departed with outward decent gloom and inward +premonitions of rejoicing, for when he had hit a nail on the head he had +eyes to see. And the colonel betook himself, hot-foot, to the pompous +old soldier in charge of the camp, who happened to be a man of fixed +belief in himself, but, if he feared anything, was afraid of a newspaper +reporter. The colonel gave him the facts, sparing no squalid detail; +indeed, adding a few picturesque embellishments from his own +observations. He cut short the other's contemptuous criticism of boy +soldiers, and his comparison with the hardships endured during the Civil +War, with a curt "I know they fooled away men's lives then; that is no +reason we should fool them away now. The men are sickening to-day—they +will be dying to-morrow; I'm desperate. If that camp is not changed by +to-morrow I shall march my regiment out myself and pitch my own camp, +and you may court-martial me for it if you like. I would rather stand a +court-martial than see my men die, because I was afraid to speak out! +The camp we have now is murder, as the reporters say! I don't wonder +that young fellow from Chicago talks hard!"</p> + +<p>"You're excited, Colonel; you forget yourself."</p> + +<p>"I <i>am</i> excited, Major; I'm desperate! Will you walk round the camp with +me?"</p> + +<p>The end of the colloquy was that the captain saw the major and the +colonel and told the first-lieutenant, who told, the first-sergeant, +whose name was Spruce. "Captain's kicked to the colonel, I guess," says +Spruce, "and colonel's kicked to the major. That's the talk. Git ready, +boys, and pack." True enough, the camp was moved the very next day.</p> + +<p>"I guess captain will make an officer if he lives and don't git the big +head," Spruce moralized. "It's mighty prevalent in the volunteers."</p> + +<p>The captain wrote the whole account home to one single confidant—his +father—and him he swore to secrecy. The captain's father was the man +who had committed Company G to Spruce's good offices. He sent a check to +the company and a special box of cigars to Spruce. And Spruce, knowing +nothing of the intermediary, felt a more brilliant pride in his adopted +town, and bragged of its virtues more vehemently than ever. The camp was +not moved soon enough. Pneumonia and typhoid fever appeared. One by one +the boys of the regiment sickened. Presently one by one they began to +die.</p> + +<p>Then Spruce suggested to the captain: "I guess I'd be more good in the +hospital than I am here, Captain." And the captain (who was scared, poor +lad, and had visions of the boys' mothers demanding the wasted lives of +their sons at his hands) had his best sergeant put on the sick detail. +If Spruce had been useful in camp he was invaluable in hospital. The +head surgeon leaned on him, with a jest, and the young surgeon in charge +with pretense of abuse. "You'll burst if you don't work off your steam, +Spruce, so out with it. What is it <i>now</i>?" In this fashion he really +sought both information and suggestion. Nor was he above being +instructed in the innumerable delicacies of requisitions by the old +regular, and he did not, when requisitions were unanswered and supplies +appeared in unusual form, ask any embarrassing questions. "I get 'em +from the Red Cross, sir," was Spruce's invariable and unquestioned +formula.</p> + +<p>And the doctor in his reports accounted for what he had received and +complained lustily because his requisitions were not honored, even as +Spruce had desired, and, thereby, he obtained much credit, in the days +to come. Spruce did not obtain any particular credit, but he saved a few +lives, it is likely; and the sick men found him better than medicine. +The captain always handed the committee letters over to him; and bought +whatever he desired.</p> + +<p>"Captain's going to distinguish himself, give him a chance," thought +Spruce, "he's got <i>sense</i>!"</p> + +<p>And by degrees he began to feel for the young volunteer a reflection of +the worship which had secretly been offered to a certain fat little +bald-headed captain of the old —steenth. His picture of the great day +when he should have his triumph—quite as dear to him, perhaps, as any +Roman general's to the Roman—now always included a vision of the +captain, slender and straight and bright-eyed, at the head of the line; +and he always could see the captain, later in the day, presenting him to +his father; "Here's Sergeant Spruce, who has coached us all!" He had +overheard those very words once said to a girl visiting the camp, and +they clung to his memory with the persistent sweetness of the odor of +violets.</p> + +<p>To-day he was thinking much more of the captain than of young Danvers, +though Danvers ranked next in his good will. Danvers was a college lad +who had begged and blustered his mother into letting him go. He would +not let her know how ill he was, but had the captain write to his +married sister, in the same town but not the same house. She, in sore +perplexity, wrote to both the captain and Spruce and kept her trunk +packed, expecting a telegram. Danvers used to talk of her and of his +mother and of his little nephews and nieces to Spruce, at first in mere +broken sentences—this was when he was so ill they expected that he +might die any day—later in little happy snatches of reminiscence. He +was perfectly aware that he owed his life to Spruce's nursing; and he +gave Spruce the same admiration which he had used to give the great man +who commanded the university football team. The social hiatus between +them closed up insensibly, as it always does between men who are in +danger and suffering together. Danvers knew Spruce's footfall and his +thin face would lighten with a smile whenever the sergeant came in +sight. He liked the strong, soft touch of his hand, the soothing cadence +of his voice; he felt a gratitude which he was too boyish to express for +the comfort of Spruce's baths and rubbings and cheerfulness. The other +sick lads had a touch of the same feeling for the sergeant. As he passed +from cot to cot, even the sickest man could make some little sign of +relief at his return.</p> + +<p>Spruce's heart, a simple and tender affair, as a soldier's is, oftener +than people know, swelled within him, not for the first time.</p> + +<p>"Well, I guess I done right to come here," thought he, "and I guess all +the G boys will be out of the woods this week, and then I don't care how +soon we git our orders."</p> + +<p>Danvers stopped him when he returned. "I want to speak to you, Chris," +he next said, and a new note in his voice turned Spruce about abruptly.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Dick?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing, I only wanted to be sure you'd come back and say good-by +before you got off. The regiment's got its orders, you know?"</p> + +<p>"<i>No!</i>" cried Spruce. He swallowed a little gasp. "What are you giving +me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's straight; I heard them talking. Colonel has the order; the +boys are packing to-day."</p> + +<p>Spruce's eyes burned, he was minded to make some exclamations of profane +joy, but his mood fell at the sight of the boy's quivering smile.</p> + +<p>"Great, isn't it?" said Danvers. "I wish they'd waited two weeks and +given us fellows a show, but I dare say there won't be any show by that +time, the way they are after the dons at Santiago. Can't you get off +now, to pack? But—you'll be sure to come back and say good-by, Chris!"</p> + +<p>"I ain't off yet," said Spruce, "and I ain't too sure I will be. +They're always gitting orders and making an everlasting hustle to pack +up, and then unpacking. You go to sleep."</p> + +<p>He was about to move away, but Danvers detained him, saying that he +wanted to be turned; and as the soldier gently turned him, the boy got +one of his hands and gave it a squeeze. He tried to say something, but +was barely able to give Spruce a foolish smile. "Spruce, you're a +soldier and a gentleman!" he stammered. He turned away his head to hide +the tears in his eyes. But Spruce had seen them. Of course he made no +sign, stepping away briskly, with a little pat on the lean shoulder.</p> + +<p>He came back softly in a little while. He looked at Danvers, who was +simulating sleep, with his dark lashes fallen over red eyelids, and he +shook his head. During his absence he had found that the orders were no +rumor. The regiment was going to Porto Rico sure enough. Spruce stood a +moment, before he sat down by Danvers' side. But he barely was seated +ere he was on his feet again, in a nervous irritation which none had +ever seen in Spruce. He walked to the door of the tent and gazed, in the +same attitude that the nurse had gazed, an hour earlier, at the low, +white streets. Two great buzzards were flying low against the hot, +cloudless vault of blue.</p> + +<p>"Them boys'll be all broke up if I go!" said Spruce.</p> + +<p>He frowned and fidgeted. In fact, he displayed every symptom of a man +struggling with a fit of furious temper. What really was buffeting +Spruce's soul was not, however, anger, it was the temptation of his +life. Spruce had known few temptations; at least, he had recognized few. +His morality was the lenient, rough-hewn article which satisfies a +soldier's conscience. He had no squeamishness about the sins outside his +limited category; he fell into them blithely and had no remorse when he +remembered them, wherefore he preserved a certain incongruous innocence +even in his vices, as has happened to many a man before. It is, perhaps, +the moral nature's own defense; and keeps untouched and ever fresh +little nooks and corners of a sinner's soul, into which the conscience +may retreat and from which sometimes she sallies forth to conquer the +abandoned territory. What Spruce called his duty he had done quite as a +matter of course. He had not wavered any more than he wavered when the +war bonnets were swooping down on his old captain's crumpled-up form. +But this—this was different. The boys needed him. But if he stayed with +the boys, there was the regiment and the company and the captain and the +chance to distinguish himself and march back in glory to his town.</p> + +<p>"I guess most folks would say I'd <i>ought</i> to follow the colors," he +thought; "raw fellers like them, they need a steady, old hand. Well, +they've got Bates." (Bates was an old regular, also, of less +enterprising genius than Spruce, but an admirable soldier.) "I +s'pose,"—grudgingly—"that Bates would keep 'em steady. And captain can +fight, and the colonel was a West Point man, though he's been out of the +army ten years, fooling with the millish. I guess they don't need me so +awful bad this week; and these 'ere boys—Oh, damn it all!" He walked +out of the tent. There was a little group about a wagon, at which he +frowned and sighed. "Poor Maxwell!" he said. Then he tossed his head and +stamped his foot. "Oh, damn it all!" said he again, between his teeth.</p> + +<p>But his face and manner were back on their old level of good cheer when +he bent over Danvers, half an hour later.</p> + +<p>"Sa—y! Dick!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Chris. You come to say good-by! Well, it's good luck to you and +God bless you from every boy here; and we know what you've done for us, +and we won't forget it; and we'll all hurry up to get well and join +you!" Danvers' voice was steady enough now and a pathetic effort at a +cheer came from all the cots.</p> + +<p>Spruce lifted his fist and shook it severely. "You shut up! All of you! +You'll raise your temperature! I ain't going, neither. Be quiet. It's +all settled. I've seen captain, and he wants me to stay and see you boys +through; all the G boys. Then we're all going together. I tell you, keep +quiet."</p> + +<p>Dick Danvers was keeping quiet enough, for one; he was wiping away the +tears that rolled down his cheeks.</p> + +<p>The others in general shared his relief in greater or less measure; but +they were too ill to think much about anything except themselves. In +some way, however, every one in the tent showed to Spruce that he felt +that a sacrifice had been made.</p> + +<p>"I know you hated it like the devil, and just stayed for fear some of +your precious chickens would come to mischief if they got from under +your wings, you old hen!" was Dick's tribute; "and I know why you went +into town yesterday when the boys went off. It <i>is</i> rough, Chris, and +that's the truth!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's only putting things off a bit; the captain told me so +himself," said Spruce, very light and airy. But his heart was sore. The +G boys understood; he wasn't so sure that all the others did understand. +He caught his name on one gossiping group's lips, and was conscious that +they gazed after him curiously. "Wonder if I'm scared that I stayed +home, I guess," he muttered, being a sensitive fellow like all vain men. +"I wish they'd see the things I've been in! Damn 'em!"</p> + +<p>The men really were discussing his various Indian experiences and +admiring him in their boyish hearts. But he was unluckily out of +earshot. Unluckily, also, he was not out of earshot when a lieutenant of +another regiment who had had a difference about a right of way with +Spruce's captain and been worsted by Spruce's knowledge of military +traditions freed his mind about that "bumptious regular who was so keen +to fight, but (he noticed) was hanging on to his sick detail, now the +regiment had a chance to see a few Spaniards." Spruce, in his properly +buttoned uniform, his face red with the heat and something of the words, +saluted rigorously and passed by, not a single muscle twitching. All the +while he was thinking: "I'm glad he don't belong to <i>my</i> town! God! If +anybody was to write them things about me!"</p> + +<p>By this time the town was not only his town, but he was sure that he was +a figure in the conversation of the place. Thus his anxiety of mind +increased daily. He kept it from his charges, who grew stronger all the +week, and the next; and he read such papers as drifted out to the camp +and such shreds of news about the fighting with frantic interest. +Danvers was able to sit up at the end of three weeks, but most of the +boys were further along, walking about the wards, or gone back to their +regiment.</p> + +<p>"You get out, Chris," said Danvers, "we all know you're on your head +with aching to go. <i>We're</i> all right; and I'm off home on furlough +to-morrow; I'll get straightened out there quicker, and I'll be after +you next week, see if I don't! I knew you'd be hanging on, so I won't +give you the excuse. My sister's coming to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"Really, Dick," gasped Spruce, "and you—you're sure the other boys are +so's I can leave?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you know there are going to be some women from the Red Cross, +last of the week—Oh, by the time we are all out of it, this will be a +swell hospital, with all the luxuries! Spruce, go, and don't get hurt, +or I'll murder you!"</p> + +<p>Spruce giggled like a happy girl. He was on his way to put in his +application to join his regiment the next day—after Dick Danvers' +sister had arrived, when something happened. He did not exactly know +what it was himself, until he felt the water on his forehead and tried +to lift himself up from the sand, catching the arm of the +surgeon-in-chief. "Sunstroke, doctor?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>"Just fainted," the surgeon answered cheerfully, "you've been overdoing +it in this heat. Be careful."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's nothing, sir," Spruce grinned back; "had it lots of times, +only not so bad. All the boys git giddy heads—"</p> + +<p>Somehow the ready words faltered off his tongue; the surgeon had been +fumbling at his blouse, under the pretext of opening it for air, he was +looking in a queer, intent way at Spruce's chest.</p> + +<p>Of a sudden the eyes of doctor and soldier, who had been nurse, met and +challenged each other. There was a dumb terror in the soldier's eyes, a +grave pity in the surgeon's. "I seen them spots yesterday," said Spruce, +slowly, in a toneless voice, "but I wouldn't believe they was typhoid +spots, nor they <i>ain't</i>!"</p> + +<p>"You get inside and get a drink, Spruce, and go to bed," said the +doctor. "Of course, I'm not certain, but as good a nurse as you knows +that it isn't safe to try to bluff typhoid fever."</p> + +<p>By this time Spruce was on his feet, able to salute with his reply: +"That's all right, Major, but—I got to keep up till Danvers gits off +with his folks, or he'd be kicking and want to stay. Jest let me see him +off, and I'll go straight to bed."</p> + +<p>"No walking about, mind, though," said the doctor, not well pleased, yet +knowing enough of the two men to perceive the point of the argument.</p> + +<p>Spruce saw Danvers off, with a joke and a grin, and an awkward bow for +Danvers' sister. Then he went back to the hospital and went to bed, +having written his aunt's address on a prescription pad (one of his +acquirements in his foraging trips) with a remarkably spelled request +that his pay be sent her, and his other property be given his friend, R. +E. Danvers, to divide among his friends, giving the captain first +choice.</p> + +<p>"Lots of folks die of typhoid fever," he remarked quite easily, "and it +don't hurt to be ready. I feel like I was in for a bad time, and I ain't +stuck on the nursing here a little bit."</p> + +<p>Before the week was out he recognized as well as the doctors that he was +a very sick man.</p> + +<p>"If you'd only gone off with your regiment three weeks ago," the doctor +growled one day, "you'd have missed this, Spruce."</p> + +<p>"That's all right," said Spruce, "but some of the boys are home that +wouldn't be, maybe. I guess it's all right. Only, you know captain and +Danvers; I wish you'd write back to the old town and tell the committee +I done my duty. I can't be a credit to the company, but I done my duty, +though I expect there's folks in town may think I was malingering."</p> + +<p>"Stop talking!" commanded the doctor. "Did you know the women are coming +to-morrow; you are to have a nurse of your own here?"</p> + +<p>"Time," said Spruce; "if my town had its way they'd been here long ago. +Ever been in my town, Major?"</p> + +<p>"No. Good-by, Spruce; keep quiet."</p> + +<p>"It's the bulliest town in the country, and the prettiest. And when G +company goes back—Oh, Lord, I won't be with 'em!"</p> + +<p>The surgeon's hand on his shoulder prevented the movement which he would +have made, and he apologized; "I didn't mean to do that! Moving's so +bad. Tell you, I'd a time keeping the boys still; they <i>would</i> turn when +they got a little off. Say, I got to talk, Major, something's broke +loose in me and I <i>got</i> to talk. I don't want to, I just got to."</p> + +<p>When the nurse came he was so light-headed as to have no control of his +words, yet quite able to recognize her and welcome her with an +apologetic politeness.</p> + +<p>"I'd have had some lemonade for you if I'd been up myself, ma'am. We're +glad to see you. All the G boys are convalescing; most of 'em's gone. We +all come from the same city; it's an awful pretty town. I got a lot of +friends there that maybe don't take it in why I'm here 'stead of with my +regiment, with the old man. I got a good reason; only I can't remember +it now."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The captain's father stood outside the telegraph office in Spruce's +town. Beside him was the chairman of the relief committee.</p> + +<p>"Too bad about that regular," said the chairman. "Spruce—isn't that his +name? One of the boys telegraphed he couldn't live through the day. +Better have him brought here for the funeral, I guess; he's been very +faithful. Young Danvers wanted to go right down to Florida; but he had a +relapse after he got home and he's flat on his back."</p> + +<p>"I heard," said the captain's father; "I've just telegraphed, on my own +responsibility, for them to send him here. It won't make any difference +to him, poor fellow; but we owe it to him. I wish we could do something +that would help him, but I don't see anything."</p> + +<p>"We have told them to spare no expense, and he's got plenty of money. +No, you have done everything. Well, good-by; remember me to the captain; +we're all proud of him."</p> + +<p>The captain's father thanked him with rather an absent air. "I wish we +could do something for that fellow," he was thinking; "I don't suppose a +message to him would—when a fellow's dying, messages are nonsense—it's +a bit of sentiment—I don't care, I'll do it!" He turned and went back +into the office.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"I am afraid there is not a chance," said the doctor; "too bad, he was a +good fellow. Well, you can give him all the morphine he needs—and +strychnine, though he's past strychnine, I fear; morphine's the one +chance, and that's mighty little."</p> + +<p>"He talked about wanting to see you," said the nurse. She had a sweet +voice, plainly a lady's voice; and her slim figure, in the blue-striped +gown and white surplice, had a lady's grace. Her face was not handsome, +nor was it very young, but it had a touch of her voice's sweetness. The +doctor found himself glad to look at her; and forgetting his patients in +his interest in the nurse.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes,"—he roused himself—"I'll look 'round later; I suppose he is +delirious?"</p> + +<p>"Not so much that he does not recognize us. He talks all the time of his +town, poor fellow, and seems to want to have them understand that he +hasn't neglected his duty. He only once has spoken of any relations. +It's all the town, and the captain and Danvers making it right there; +and the boys going back—I suppose he has lived there all his life +and—"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it; Danvers told me he merely enlisted from there. But +they are making a great time over him. Telegraphed to have his body sent +there; and here's another telegram. See—"</p> + +<p>"I'll let him see," said the nurse, taking it, "may I, Doctor?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but not the first part about sending him back; that's a little too +previous."</p> + +<p>The nurse's touch roused Spruce. "Dick," he murmured, "Dick, you tell +the folks. I couldn't go with the regiment—you know why."</p> + +<p>"They know why, too; here's a telegram from your captain's father: 'Tell +Spruce he's the hero of Company G.'"</p> + +<p>"Read it again!"</p> + +<p>She read it. His hand tightened on hers. Her trained eyes were on his +face.</p> + +<p>"Ain't it the—the <i>bulliest</i> town! I wisht I'd enough money to go back; +but you see my folks got to have my pay. But I wisht—"</p> + +<p>Her eyes, not the nurse's now, but a woman's, sought the doctor's in a +glance of question and appeal. He nodded.</p> + +<p>Her sweet voice said: "And the town has telegraphed that no expense must +be spared to cure you; but if you don't recover you are to go back to +them."</p> + +<p>Spruce drew a long, ecstatic sigh. "Oh—didn't I tell you? Ain't it the +bulliest town!"</p> + +<p>A minute later he murmured, "Thank you, Dick," and, still holding the +nurse's hand, Spruce went to see his town.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_MIRACLE_PLAY" id="A_MIRACLE_PLAY"></a>A MIRACLE PLAY</h2> + + +<p>The widow Darter's house was set on a hill. It was a story-and-a-half +cottage, of stucco, to which sun and wind and frost had offered their +kind offices, mellowing pleasantly its original glare of white. In +summer a trumpet-vine draped the ugly little piazza which Emmy's +"art-needle work" had helped build, and which she and her mother admired +with simple hearts. The big burr oak and the maples hid the house from +the road, but the grassy knoll in front of the house was bare, and from +this vantage-ground one could see the shallow curve of whitish-brown +where the village street climbed the hill, the chimneys of the houses +below, and, afar off, the trains roaring through the prairies. All the +village was interested in the railway, but Emmy had an especial and +intimate interest because her sweetheart was the local agent. He had +been her sweetheart during five years, in any one of which he would have +been proud and glad to marry her; yet this was the fifth year of their +betrothal, and Emmy was drearily reflecting that they were no nearer the +chance to spend their lives together the fifth than the first.</p> + +<p>Emmy was hanging out clothes. It was four o'clock in the afternoon, but +she had just brought out the large basket and was pinning the garments +to the line, while Virginia, her sister, a little girl in short skirts +and a blue checked apron, helped with the less cumbrous stockings and +handkerchiefs. The child was pretty. She had a fresh color and curly +yellow hair. Emmy's hair was black, and twisted in a braid about a +shapely head. It shone like silk. But her eyes were gray, soft, and +liquid. She was slender, with a youthful litheness in her motions, and +her white arms flashed as they moved backward and forward in her work. +The sleeves of her blue gown were rolled up; the gown itself was plainly +her work-a-day garb, but there was a white lawn tie at her neck and the +gown was both neat and becoming; in short, she was an attractive little +creature who did not neglect her looks even of a wash-day.</p> + +<p>The widow Darter sat on the piazza in a large rocking-chair. She rocked. +As she rocked, she moaned piteously. At intervals she changed the +sibilant moan into a hollow groaning sound. "Oh dear! <i>Oh</i> dear! Oh +dear, oh dear, oh dear!" wailed the widow. "Um-m! um-m! um-m-m-m!"</p> + +<p>The little girl flung a frown of impatience over her shoulder. "I don't +see why mamma makes such an <i>awful</i> racket!" she snapped.</p> + +<p>"She suffers," said Emmy.</p> + +<p>"Well, she needn't holler so if she does," cried Virginia, rebelliously. +"I know she wouldn't let <i>me</i> holler when I stubbed my toe. It hurt +awful, too!"</p> + +<p>Emmy said nothing.</p> + +<p>"Say, are you going to the picnic with Bert to-morrow afternoon?" said +the child.</p> + +<p>"No, Jinny, I don't see how I can. Mother's so sick."</p> + +<p>"Well, I told Bert I was willing to take care of mamma; and he said he'd +buy me a new doll if I would. I guess he wants you to go awful."</p> + +<p>"Oh-h dear! Oh-h dear!" droned the sufferer on the piazza.</p> + +<p>"Well, I can't," said Emmy. "I wish you'd run and ask mother if she +wants anything."</p> + +<p>"She don't; she's been going on that way all the afternoon." But Jinny +granted the request after the easy-going manner of her age; she turned +on her heel and sent a shout at her mother—"Say, mamma! you want +anything?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Darter shook her head. The din of woe swelled in volume.</p> + +<p>"I s'pose she wants you to read to her; she says I don't read with +expression," said the little girl. "But we're all read out; you put off +the washing to read the end of <i>A Romance of Two Worlds</i>, and we've got +to wait until No. 9 comes in! Albert said he'd sent for a whooping big +pile of books from Davenport; you can get 'em at the dry-goods stores +for five cents a book. And Mrs. Conner'll bring them up, won't she, when +she comes? She's got to go for her boarder." Emmy nodded. Mrs. Darter +groaned more softly, a sign that she was distracted by something from +her own griefs of mind or body. Jinny chattered on. "Miss Ann Bigelow +told me Mrs. Conner's going to have a girl from the University of +Chicago for a boarder this time, but she's only coming for a week. Sibyl +Edmunds knows her well. And, Emmy, she takes pictures, and she's going +to bring her camera."</p> + +<p>"Emmy! <i>Emmy!</i> there comes Mrs. Conner!" screamed her mother.</p> + +<p>Her words were accompanied by the vision of a white horse and an ancient +phaeton (which had been newly washed for the occasion) just beyond the +lilac-bushes at the gate. Mrs. Conner's comely presence filled the +better part of the seat, but the eyes of all the Darters traveled at +once to the slim girl in gray covert-cloth who sat beside her. The girl +looked like hundreds of rather pretty American girls, with gray eyes and +brown hair and dimples in their cheeks. She was pretty as youth and +cheerfulness and dainty clothes are always pretty, but Emmy's gaze dwelt +on her with reverence. "That's a camera she's holding—in that box," she +said in a low tone to Jinny, "she's the girl that got the scholarship." +Emmy sighed.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Conner had stopped the horse. She responded to Emmy's greeting by +presenting her to the girl in gray. "Miss Doris Keith; she's going to +the Chicago University. She knows Sibyl." Then she fished out a package +from the luggage heaped at their feet. "Here's the books. That your ma +on the piazza?"</p> + +<p>As if in response, a few hollow moans floated from the rocking-chair.</p> + +<p>"She seems in great pain," said Miss Keith, sympathetically.</p> + +<p>Emmy's fair skin reddened painfully. "No, she—she isn't well," she +stammered.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Conner coughed a dry, inexpressive cough.</p> + +<p>"I do wish you would step in and see mother for a minute," Emmy begged, +as much with her eyes as with her voice. "I can hitch the horse if Miss +Keith minds—"</p> + +<p>But Miss Keith did not mind; she was quite willing to hold the horse. +And the horse sagging his elderly head, appeared of no mind to move, +whether "held" or no.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said Mrs. Conner, when they were out of earshot.</p> + +<p>"Mother thinks she is threatened with pleurisy, and she is trying the +starvation cure," answered Emmy. "She hasn't eaten a bite since +yesterday. I'm ashamed to be so late about my washing, but I've been +cooking things all day, trying to tempt her—"</p> + +<p>"Oh dear! Oh dear! Oh <i>dear</i>!" moaned the figure on the piazza.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Conner put her arms akimbo. She looked steadfastly at the swaying +and moaning shape. Mrs. Conner was a woman who had been known to fry +fresh griddle-cakes for tramps. She drew in her breath and exhaled it +explosively, as one that has been shocked out of speech.</p> + +<p>"I've made her postum cereal coffee and cooked her granum, and I went +out and begged dewberries from the Bigelows—she used to be fond of +them—and I don't know how many times I've made toast. She says I just +torment her."</p> + +<p>"Won't she drink a little beef tea?"</p> + +<p>"Oh-h! Oh-h! U-r-r-r! <i>Ug-h-h-h!</i>" shuddered the invalid.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you know she thinks meat wicked? And milk's robbing the cow, and +eggs robbing the hen, who wants to have a family as much as we do," said +Emily, rather incorrectly.</p> + +<p>"More'n some of us do, I guess," retorted Mrs. Conner, "and more'n folks +<i>ought</i> to if they ain't prepared to do their duty by them when they've +got 'em." She launched a fiery glance at Mrs. Darter, who was now +groaning vehemently. "Got it all turned on this afternoon, ain't she?"</p> + +<p>"Dr. Abbie Cruller told her that it wasn't natural to suppress +ourselves. If you feel like groaning you ought to groan—"</p> + +<p>"And she eats sech queer stuff she's hungry most of the time," Mrs. +Conner interrupted, "so I expect she groans a lot. Say, Emmy, have you +ever had anybody come in and give your ma a good hard—<i>blowing up</i>?"</p> + +<p>The blood rushed to Emmy's face; her eyes sank. She answered, in a +confused tone: "Aunt Lida Glenn was over yesterday. I don't know what +she said to mother, but mother—mother told me the one thing she wanted +on earth was to have me—send Albert away and have everything ended +between us, for she never was so insulted in her life as she had been by +Albert's mother."</p> + +<p>"Albert's mother ain't Albert; though I don't blame her, Emmy, and Mrs. +Glenn is a awful nice woman. But it ain't fair to hold Albert for her +opinions, right or wrong. As I said, she ain't Albert, nor Albert ain't +her."</p> + +<p>"So I told mother," said Emmy. "I did hate to be disrespectful to her, +but I told her so; and she answered that Mrs. Glenn said Albert thought +so too. Then when I tried to question her she was in so much pain and +groaned so I hadn't the heart to bother her. She let me put hot cloths +on her, and give her a Turkish bath over the alcohol-lamp; and I hoped +she'd let me make her some water gruel, but she wouldn't touch a +spoonful. Mrs. Conner, you don't suppose she—she will keep it up much +longer?" Emmy's eyes dilated with an unspoken fear as she lifted them to +the kind woman before her. "She said she felt herself growing weaker +this morning. I—I told her I wouldn't go to the picnic with Bert, if +she would only eat something. But she said that she couldn't eat +anything. One time—one time she went three days. I didn't let the +neighbors know; but I was 'most crazy, and poor little Jinny cried. She +isn't one to cry, either."</p> + +<p>"No," Mrs. Conner agreed, glancing at Jinny who was chattering volubly +with the girl in the phaeton—"no, I'd say she'd be more likely to be +sassy."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid she was that, too," suggested Emmy, with a dim smile, "but +at last she got scared. It was some new books Bert brought, got mother +out of that time; she was so anxious to read them."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know your ma's a great reader. Always was. She told me she +fairly revelled in stories of high life and detective stories. She said +she'd read every one of The Duchess's books—I guess 'twas a hundred. +And she said many and many a night she'd set up in bed reading half the +night. 'It's so resting,' she says, 'to read 'bout murders and how they +are tracked down.' It took up her mind from her sorrers, she says. And +she told me she didn't know how she'd ever lived through losing your pa +but for <i>Sherlock Holmes</i>. If I was you I'd jest try to stir her up with +these books. I'll fetch 'em to her. I read the one of Ouida's and it's +real good—and, come to think of it, brimful of eating. Who knows but +it'll git her to wanting to eat herself. Why, when I think what kind of +cook she was, it don't seem possible! But now don't you worry, Emmy; +she'll come all right and she'll come all right 'bout Mrs. Glenn, good +friends as they've always been. Why, she always has liked Lida Glenn +better than all her other friends together! She'll <i>have</i> to make up. +Don't you fret a bit." She said the words in a hearty voice, and she +strode vigorously across the grass to the piazza and presented her +package with a breezy cheer. "Here's two new books by Ouida, and one by +Bertha M. Clay, and two by Maria Corelly, Mrs. Darter; and Emmy'll be +ready to read them to you soon."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Darter had a delicate pale face, much like Emmy's in features, but +etched with tiny wrinkles. The corners of her mouth dropped, and there +was a habitual frown of pain on her pretty forehead. She did not look +ungentle, only obstinate.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," she murmured. Then she sighed.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Conner opened her mouth, and shut it again, compressing the lips +with unnecessary firmness.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Darter laid her head back on her chair. She closed her eyes. A +plaintive, sibilant noise hissed through her parted lips.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm real sorry you're sick," said Mrs. Connor, her voice again +full of good-nature. "I guess what you need is a little nourishing +food—"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Darter screamed, and Mrs. Conner stood aghast. She was more aghast +to behold all the apparent symptoms of a swoon in the invalid, and would +have run for water—an act, however, prevented by the timely opening of +Mrs. Darter's eyes. "Don't say the word!" she begged, shuddering. "I +have to starve off a pleurisy. It would <i>kill</i> me! And the books are no +good; I'm too sick to hear reading. Oh dear! Oh dear! Oh dear!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Conner backed off the piazza—she said she guessed she must go—and +left Mrs. Darter moaning and rocking.</p> + +<p>"And to tell you the truth, Miss Keith"—thus she ended a breathless +narration to her new boarder—"I went quick, for I knew I couldn't hold +in one minnit longer! And how'd it help poor Emmy to have her mother +quarrel with Lida Glenn and me the same day? There's Susy Baker making +eyes at Albert Glenn, this minnit; and if she ain't carrying Mrs. Glenn +some of her ma's blueberry cake! Right by the Darters, too; and Emmy +seeing her!"</p> + +<p>"What is the matter with Mrs. Darter?"</p> + +<p>"Well, old Dr. Potter says she's 'neurotic,' if you know what <i>that</i> is. +I call it jest notions. What the doctors in my time called a hypo, +that's what she is! She's always been the greatest hand to dose. Mr. +Conner will have it she kep' old Captain Darter poor buying patent +medicines. And she run after every new cure-all going. It was +electricity one year, and 'nother year it was blue glass, and one time I +remember she had a woman come of the sort that used to call themselves +bone-doctors when I was a girl and this country wasn't much settled, but +now they're osteologists, or some sech funny name, and give out they can +rub everything on earth out of you. Mrs. Darter had <i>her</i> for a long +spell, till she got pneumonia, and nigh died, and sickened of the +osteologist; and I give her mustard plasters, good strong ones, myself. +All this time Emmy was engaged to Albert Glenn; but the old captain was +real feeble, and Emmy wouldn't leave him to git married. I will say Mrs. +Darter was real devoted to him, though Emmy done all the night work and +spared her all she could, give up her school, and spent every cent of +the money she'd laid by school-teaching and working art embroidery for +her clothes, when she'd be married—spent every cent on her pa. Got him +a wheel chair, and if ever a man set the world by his daughter the +captain done it. He liked Albert, too. I guess if captain had lived, +sick's he was, he'd have found a way so's Emmy and Albert could git +married. But he died. Then you'd 'a' s'posed they could marry, for his +life was <i>well</i> insured, and they got enough for the widder to be +comfortable and keep a girl. But the minnit he died poor Mrs. Darter +got nervous prostration, and she was a nervous prostrate for a year, +and they had to spend money traveling, and of course Emmy couldn't git +married. Mrs. Darter went to Hot Springs, Arkansas, and she went to a +sanitarium, and last she come home saying she was cured. But on the cars +she made the acquaintance of a woman—well, I don't want to jedge—jedge +not, and you won't git jedged, you know—and I know 'tis hard for a +woman to make a living, but I guess that woman was a crank, and a +designing one at that. But she went to Mrs. Darter's to board, and she +never paid no board, but she preached to Mrs. Darter 'bout how all the +diseases that we have come from eating wrong things; and she said we'd +got to live 'cording to nature more; and eating meat made folks fierce +like the carnivorous beasts, and things seasoned with salt was bad for +you, and jest plain farnishous foods without salt—like we was +<i>chickens</i>!—was best for us. I don't see how Mrs. Darter, who used to +cook real well and liked to have the sewing society to tea, could stand +sech sick stuff, but she did; and what's wuss, even after the fool +critter ran away and married a magnetic healer who, they do say, has +another wife, even to this day Abiel Darter believes in her and goes by +what she says. And she ain't et any fit food for so long that if she +ever does git coaxed to take a wholesome bite of beef or pie her +stummick is so weak of course she cayn't stand it. Strong folks can eat +strong vituals, and weak folks cayn't. Mrs. Glenn coaxed her in to a +boiled dinner one day, and poor Mrs. Darter nearly died of it. Now you +cayn't git her to budge from her grass and potato diet, as Conner calls +it. And as for poor Emmy, when she can git married Lord only knows!"</p> + +<p>Miss Keith had not interrupted the story by as much as a hum of assent. +She looked up with a queer smile. "Has Mrs. Darter ever tried Christian +Science?"</p> + +<p>"No, she ain't," snorted Mrs. Conner; "we've been spared <i>that</i>. The +Bigelow girls—they're two single ladies, real nice girls, too, who live +in that big brown house with a cupola and a hip-roof there, 'bout two +doors up—they tried to get her into that way of thinking; they're at +everybody. And they used to go over and set with her and give her +'silent treatment,' they called it, and try to think the dyspepsia out +of her; but one of 'em got a fish-bone in her throat and they had to +come to me to pull it out with a pair of tweezers. That sorter dampened +'em for a while and Mrs. Darter says, 'Why didn't you <i>think</i> it out?' +And then Ann—she's the oldest—says they wasn't far enough advanced +yet, Mrs. Darter told 'em then they wasn't far enough advanced to doctor +<i>her</i>. And I guess they ain't been there sense."</p> + +<p>"All the same," insisted Miss Keith, smiling, "I think Mrs. Darter needs +mental healing or Christian Science, I don't care which."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Emmy put her mother to bed. She gave her the soothing drops which the +vanished but still reverenced healer had left—drops which she was +almost certain owed their potency to some alias of opium. In the morning +Mrs. Darter came out of her drugged sleep with a deadly nausea that +swathed her muscles and laid her rigid in its limp, devil-fish clutch. +The roof of her mouth was like leather; her head seemed to be pounded +with hammers; she was burning with fever, and malign twitchings and +itchings tormented her to rub her nose incessantly, when the least +motion was fearsome to her. She had much more cause than ordinary to +moan, and moan she did at every breath. Jinny had rushed away to a small +chum the moment the dishes for her own breakfast had been washed; but +Emmy couldn't run. She drank a cup of coffee; she had no heart to eat. +Jinny, however had eaten the dainty little meal that Emmy had +prepared—a forlorn hope to tempt the invalid.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my nose! my <i>nose</i>!" wailed Mrs. Darter. "Emmy, you've got to leave +off staring out of that window at the Glenns', and come and scratch my +nose! Ah-uh! Ah-u-h!"</p> + +<p>Emmy silently sat down by the bedside. If Albert passed the yard on his +wheel, as he did every morning at half-past seven, he would not find +her. Emmy had used no one knows how many devices to always be in the +yard when Albert passed, or, at least, in sight by a window. Bert used +to say that glimpse of Emmy "was a bracer for the whole day." Thursday +night was his night to visit her, but last night he hadn't come.</p> + +<p>"Emmy, you ain't any account at all as a scratcher!" fretted her mother. +"You scratch where it ain't itching, and you don't scratch where it +itches, and you're so mincing! Rub it <i>hard</i>! Oh-h! <i>why</i> must I suffer +so? It's hard enough to have a ungrateful child without having your nose +itch!"</p> + +<p>Emmy adventured a sentence long lurking in her mind, but which she never +had the courage to push out into the air: "Mother, I think, I'm sure it +is the soothing drops which make your nose itch so. There's opium—"</p> + +<p>"There isn't a grain of opium in them," sobbed Mrs. Darter. "You know I +always hated opium or morphine or anything of the sort; and doctor told +me she wouldn't give the wicked drug. That's what Lida Glenn much as +told me; much as told me, too, that I was putting on and wasn't real +sick; and I told her—oh-h-h!—I told her—if she considered—<i>me</i>—that +sort of woman she must feel awful bad to—oh-h-h!—to have her only +child marry my daughter; and—I-thought—Oh-h! wuh-h-h! how awful sick I +am!"</p> + +<p>"You told Mrs. Glenn?" prompted Emmy, a flame in either cheek.</p> + +<p>"I told her that—sss! sss!—I thought the sooner that engagement was +broke the better it would be for—u-r-r-r!—all concerned—e-hee! ee-e! +ee-e-e-e! Oh my head! my head! Oh, I got to scratch my nose again. You +ain't rubbing the right place!"</p> + +<p>"And what did Mrs. Glenn say?" asked Emmy. A ripple ran over her face, +and she swallowed before she spoke.</p> + +<p>"She said you wouldn't give Albert up, real spiteful. Ah-rr-r! Oh, I +<i>am</i> so sick! I said you would ruther than have your mother so +insulted—and if you don't I guess I'll give up trying to live. She was +so topping. Much as telling me it would be better for my own child if I +died. Oh dear! oh dear! oh dear! And Albert looked as cross last +night—"</p> + +<p>"Did Albert come last night?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he did. You needn't jump out of the chair! I told him you wasn't +home, and you had gone out to the Collins spring. He said when would you +be home, and I said I didn't know. And he went off mad. Oh-h! oh-h-h! +Jinny says Carrie March says she saw him down-town riding on his bicycle +with Susan Baker. O-h-h-h-h! How can I talk when I'm so sick? Girls +don't know about young men. Bert wouldn't like you to see him sometimes, +be sure of that!" She paused to moan, and Emmy looked at her in a misery +of doubt. Was she telling the truth? It had come to that, since Mrs. +Darter had grown to take her soothing drops in every ailment—there was +no surety that she either saw things straight or told them straight.</p> + +<p>"I guess I'll go make you some coffee, mother," said Emmy; "you need +it."</p> + +<p>The girl's self-control was like tinder to the woman's fire. Mrs. Darter +flared out: "You needn't make any coffee. I won't drink it. What's more, +I won't eat one bite until you promise me to break with Bert Glenn—not +if I starve to death! If you're willing to let those Glenns insult me +and triumph over me, I ain't willing to live to see it." Her feeble +accents shrilled to a scream, as she flung out her arms with a +reminiscence of the behavior of her favorite heroines in novels. "Go, +Emmeline Darter, marry him if you dare; but you will pass to the altar +over your only mother's grave!" She had a confused sense that her syntax +had played her false and that she had not gotten the words precisely +right; but she covered any embarrassment by sinking back and moaning.</p> + +<p>Emmy looked at her with a mounting terror in her heart. She told herself +that it was impossible that her mother could carry out such a hideous +threat; but she knew that mucilaginous obstinacy which had not a place +firm enough for a reason to get a hold. "And she won't want to eat, +either," mused Emmy, wretchedly, "for that nasty medicine has made her +awful sick. She's got a fever now; that will burn away her strength. And +if it comes to a choice between letting my mother starve and giving up +Bert, I shall have to give him up!"</p> + +<p>Emmy sprang out of her chair. The thought was like a lash on a raw +wound.</p> + +<p>She ran to the window; it seemed to her that she couldn't breathe; and +her mother's whimpering irritated her past patience. She knew if she +spoke that she would let the bars down for her anger, and if she were +angry her mother would be upset physically, and grow so much worse that +she would feel like a murderer. She felt the goading of that furious +petulance which torments a woman often into sacrificing herself out of +very anger. It was on her tongue to say, "I'd rather die myself than +give up Bert, and you know it; and I'll never forgive you as long as I +live, but rather than see you die before my eyes I <i>will</i> give him up."</p> + +<p>Neither to Emmy nor to her mother was there a doubt that any word passed +would be kept. Mrs. Darter, in the lost days of peace, before her +vagaries had corroded her affection, had said once, "Emmy never told me +a lie in her life, nor she never broke a promise she made me!"</p> + +<p>Emmy shut her lips tight and looked out of the window. Her troubled gaze +did not note the dewy freshness of the morning on turf and tree. The +houses were brown cottages for the most part, built in the lean period +of western rural architecture when a stunted cruciform effect and a +bescrolled piazza was the model for every village. But the ugly lines of +wood were veiled by a kindly wealth of wistarias and clematis royally +flaunting, by Virginia-creeper and trumpet-vines splashed with vermilion +and yellow; the grass was velvet, there was a gay company of geraniums +prospering in every garden; and below the hills and the tree-tops lay +the lovely, dimpled hill-sides, golden with wheat or shorn to a +varnished silver like nothing so much as the hue of shining flax, and +the waving fields of corn—all under a vault of burning blue, delicate, +tender, innocent, with no sumptuous and threatening richness of cloud +betokening storm, only high in the heavens the milky white cumuli, the +"harvest clouds."</p> + +<p>There were a thousand witcheries of light and shade, there was a radiant +lavishness of color; it was a landscape like a multitude all over the +Middle West, nevertheless a sight to make the heart beat the quicker for +sheer delight. But it might have been a stone wall for anything poor +Emmy, who loved each growing thing, saw in it this moment. To live +without Bert, perhaps to learn that Susy Baker had the love which she +would seem to have flung away—Emmy would have groaned if she had not +heard Mrs. Darter's piteous din, and thought grimly that her mother did +enough groaning for their small family!</p> + +<p>Yet at this very instant of despair a minister of grace was lifting the +latch of the Darter gate, and Emmy was unconsciously eying her. The +minister of grace was short of stature and very plump. She had a round, +fair, freckled face, which looked the rounder for its glittering +spectacles. Her hair was a yellowish gray, but she covered it with a +small white sailor hat. She wore a neat brown and white calico frock. To +escape the dew she held her skirts high; one could see that her +preference was for black alpaca slippers and white cotton stockings. The +minister's name was Miss Ann Bigelow.</p> + +<p>"Now <i>she</i> comes to stir mother up worse!" thought Emmy. So blind are we +to the future. But she opened the door for Miss Ann Bigelow, and bade +her welcome, and proffered her the best rocking-chair in the parlor and +a palm-leaf fan.</p> + +<p>Miss Bigelow's countenance was beaming like an electric light.</p> + +<p>"I really <i>had</i> to come!" she exclaimed so soon as she could take +breath. "Have you heard about Mrs. Conner spraining her ankle?"</p> + +<p>"Emmy, open the door!" moaned Mrs. Darter from within—her bed-room +adjoined the parlor. Emmy opened the door, while she said: "I'm so +sorry. When? How is she?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she's all right now!" said Miss Bigelow. "It's wonderful—a real +miracle, I told sister. That's what I came to tell you. She sent over +for us, and there she lay, flat on the kitchen floor. I begun to treat +her in my mind the minute I saw her, for I saw she was in error. All her +word was: 'Send for a doctor; it's sprained, if it ain't broke!' I +didn't know what <i>to</i> do. I didn't want to encourage her in error, and +yet you know we are <i>not</i> advanced so far as sprains and broken bones, +and it is usual to summon a doctor; and I don't feel I'm advanced enough +myself to undertake serious cases; I'm too weak and timid, and I haven't +the spiritual vision. Emmy, does your mother <i>always</i> groan that loud +way? Is she in pain? I mean, does she <i>think</i> she is in pain?"</p> + +<p>"Yes'm," said Emmy; "but please go on; mother is listening."</p> + +<p>"Well, I stood there dazed, you may say; and just then in came Miss +Keith. She's a little slim thing, but <i>such</i> eyes! They seem to look you +through and through! I'd have known she was a healer even if Mrs. Conner +hadn't told me the night before when she was over in our house. She +stood there, just simply looking at Mrs. Conner, not saying a word for a +minnit. Then she says in the <i>kindest</i> voice—I can't tell you how soft +and kind her voice was!—she says, 'Have you the impression of great +pain, Mrs. Conner?' And Mrs. Conner—you know how—well abruptly—she +speaks, she said: '<i>Impression</i> of pain? I only wish you had something +jabbing you like a hot iron, I guess you'd be <i>impressed</i>. Ain't +anybody going to take off my stocking? It's swelling every minnit!' Miss +Keith only looked at her, and lifted her hand for me and the girl to +keep still. I expect she was giving her silent treatment, for in a +moment or two she said: 'Well?' in such an inspiring, cheerful tone; and +Mrs. Conner said, 'Why, it's better!' surprised as could be; and I had +to clap my hands for joy. But Miss Keith told us both to go out for a +while and so we did. We waited half an hour by the clock, and that girl +was the most restless being you ever saw. I had all I could to keep her +quiet. Then the door opened—" Miss Bigelow made a wave of her plump +hands, indicating the opening of a door, and paused with hands and +voice. Mrs. Darter had ceased to groan.</p> + +<p>"What happened?" said Emmy.</p> + +<p>Miss Bigelow's hands met in a clap. "<i>Mrs. Conner came walking out with +Miss Keith, that's what happened!</i>" said she, in a low, solemn voice.</p> + +<p>"On her sprained ankle?" cried Mrs. Darter.</p> + +<p>"On her sprained ankle, her that couldn't move it without nearly +fainting for the pain. She said it hardly pained her at all; and she's +going right on with her preserving this minute. I said to sister it was +simply mirac'lus. I can't find a better word."</p> + +<p>"Maybe her ankle was not sprained so badly as she thought," Emmy +suggested.</p> + +<p>"Her face was white as a sheet," said Miss Bigelow; "and we all know +Mrs. Conner isn't one to cry before she's hurt, or make a fuss; and we +all know her prejudices about mental healing. She says she don't believe +a <i>bit</i> more in it than she did, 'but,' says she, 'that girl's a wonder! +I wish,' says she, 'Mrs. Darter could have her.' I never lisped, but I +made up my mind to go and tell you right straight."</p> + +<p>"She couldn't do mother any good," said Emmy, wearily. At which Mrs. +Darter spoke for herself in a good, round voice of contradiction. "<i>Why</i> +couldn't she? How much does she charge, Miss Ann?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Not one cent!</i>" replied Ann, with a thrill of triumph; "<i>if</i> she'll +come, she'll come free; but I don't know whether she will come."</p> + +<p>"Emmy, you go and ask Mrs. Conner to ask her to come; ask Mrs. Conner to +come too," said Mrs. Darter, resuming her feeble voice. "I want to see +if that ankle <i>is</i> cured. You'll stay with me, Miss Ann?"</p> + +<p>So, almost too quickly for her to realize the position, Emmy found +herself on her way to the Conners'. A fragrant odor wafted Mrs. Conner's +occupation through the open kitchen door before Emmy crossed the +threshold to behold her skimming a great kettle of plum jam. "Landy, +land! it's Emmy Darter already!" she cried, with a jolly laugh. "I +thought I could git that plum jam ready to take off before you'd come. I +knew it wouldn't be long when I saw Miss Ann Bigelow trotting across +lots. Your ma's sent for Miss Keith, I guess. Well, it's lucky Conner +has the hosses hitched in the wagon, and he can take us right over. I'll +call Hedwig to take off the jam, and Miss Keith—"</p> + +<p>"But, Mrs. Conner, please tell me about yourself," urged Emmy. "<i>Did</i> +she cure you?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Conner's left eyelid twitched in company with the left corner of +her shapely mouth. "You ask me no questions, Emmy, and I'll tell you no +lies; but you can make up your mind Miss Keith can cure your ma—if +she's <i>let</i>!" These orphic sentences were dropped with a slow and +ponderous nod of the head, and ceased at the entrance of Miss Keith. The +young lady looked very pretty in a crisp pink and white dimity frock +and a large white hat with pink roses. She had none of the airs of an +adept or a seer. There was nothing occult or intruding on the +imagination in her presence. She sat on the front seat beside Mr. Conner +and talked about cantaloupe melons. Mrs. Conner was amazingly silent; it +was plain, however, from no unkindly motives, since often she cast an +affectionate glance on Emmy, and, as the wagon stopped in front of the +Darter gate, she patted the girl's shoulder, saying: "It's all going to +come right, <i>I</i> guess. Jest you mind us and keep still."</p> + +<p>Emmy's bewilderment deepened, but she said, "Yes'm," in her docile way, +and followed Mrs. Conner and Miss Keith down the walk, leaving Mr. +Conner to chuckle over some unknown mirth of his own, in the wagon.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Darter, so Miss Bigelow told them, had been dozing all the while +Emmy was gone. Her greeting to Miss Keith was a feeble moan. But on Miss +Keith's part there was an amazing transformation. She bent her brows +above eyes which shone out of them in a level, intent gaze. Emmy +recalled Miss Ann's description, and understood it with a thrill. For a +few seconds Miss Keith stood motionless, shedding that steady, +unblinking gaze at the drawn face on the pillow. Mrs. Darter appeared to +feel it through her eyelids; she winced, she ceased whimpering. Miss +Keith smiled gently. She spoke, and her voice was like silk. "You have +suffered very much!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Darter opened her eyes; she gazed up at the eyes above her; her +chin quivered and two tears slowly ran down her cheeks—the first tears +seen on her cheeks during all her lamentations. "Oh, I have," she +murmured, "and nobody believes it—not my oldest friend, not my own +children!"</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> believe it," said the girl; "yet it is all a mistake." Without +turning her eyes, she made a little motion with her hands toward the +door, and instantly Miss Ann marshaled the others out of the room. Mrs. +Conner shut the door.</p> + +<p>In spite of herself, Emmy began to feel her nerves twitch with the +excitement and mystery. "Oh, Mrs. Conner," she entreated that stanch +friend, "is it possible she <i>can</i> cure mother?"</p> + +<p>"Jest you keep quiet," said Mrs. Conner, "and set still. I'm going out +to the kitchen to heat this beef tea." For the first time, Emmy observed +that Mrs. Conner carried a glass jar insufficiently wrapped in +newspaper. Directly she was heard clattering among the saucepans. Miss +Ann stiffened into a rigid attitude, and her face assumed a rapt +expression. Emmy locked her fingers and sat still. At this moment she +was startled by a soft noise outside, and a young fellow pushed a +handsome, flushed face into the triangle between the window curtains and +beckoned with a look of entreaty. Emmy's heart jumped into her throat. +It was Albert. She didn't care whether he rode with Susan Baker or not; +it was Albert who loved her; she knew it. If she could only go out to +him! But Miss Ann shook her head and laid a mystic finger on her lips. +Emmy, too, laid a finger on her lips; but her finger trembled and her +eyes swam in tears. Albert stood passive and bewildered. The moments +dragged on. Really there were not so many of them; a scant half an hour +covered the flight of time; but to Emmy, uncertain whether her greatly +tried lover might not have to go back to an expected train at any one of +them, and to Albert, who did have a train on his mind and had ridden +swiftly up to his sweetheart's for the briefest of interviews, those +minutes seemed an hour. Yet Albert knew better, having his watch in +hand and waving it and pointing at it, the better to explain his hurry. +Once Emmy mustered courage in an access of desperation to rise to her +feet, but the look of horror on Miss Ann's features dropped her like a +club.</p> + +<p>Albert's mind darted blindly from one conjecture of disaster to another. +At one minute he was ready to march in rashly before Miss Ann and demand +what was the matter; at another he was cold at the thought of blundering +in on a deathbed.</p> + +<p>He gasped with relief when the door opened and Miss Keith came out, +smiling and calling: "Mrs. Conner! Mrs. Conner! hurry up that beef tea, +and make some strong coffee as soon as you can!"</p> + +<p>Then he did venture to come into the room, essaying a general bow and +smile.</p> + +<p>"I hope Aunty Darter is better!" he stammered. The children of the old +friends had always given them a brevet relationship. Mrs. Darter was +"Aunty Darter" to Albert, and Mrs. Glenn "Aunty Lida" to the Darter +girls.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Darter will be well to-morrow," said Miss Keith, quietly; "she is +going to take some coffee—"</p> + +<p>"And some toast and plum jam," interrupted Mrs. Darter herself. "I know +Mrs. Conner has been making jam. The times I've hankered after jam these +last months! I'm going to eat everything I didn't dast to—"</p> + +<p>"By degrees," said Miss Keith, "as the mental power grows stronger."</p> + +<p>"Is that Albert?" said Mrs. Darter. "Albert, lift me up while I drink +that beef tea."</p> + +<p>Albert and Emmy held her while Mrs. Conner fed her a cup of the tea. +They laughed hysterically, with tears in their eyes, as Mrs. Darter +sighed weakly. "Oh, but that's good!" while Mrs. Conner radiated +satisfaction and Miss Ann rocked to and fro, announcing that it was +"mirac'lus!" They did not comprehend what had happened; they could not +look into the future and a time when Mrs. Darter should throw herself +with energy into preparing for Emmy's marriage; they only dimly foresaw +her recovery and reconciliation with the common pleasures of life; but +it was enough for Emmy that her mother's black hour had passed, and for +Albert that he was close to Emmy, and that there was a vague omen of +happiness in the atmosphere.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Darter took her tea. She went to sleep, as Miss Keith directed her; +and she partook with relish of coffee, toast, and jam that selfsame day, +so rapidly had her state improved by evening. It was after this last +meal, she being vastly strengthened by the food and drink, that she +received Albert's messages from his mother—rather, that she cut them +short.</p> + +<p>"No, Albert, your ma shan't keep on feeling bad. She was right. It was +all in my mind. All disease is in the mind, I guess. But I wasn't +putting it on—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she <i>knows</i>; she didn't mean—"</p> + +<p>"We didn't, either of us, mean all we said; the truth is, I felt so bad +and so hungry I couldn't see straight, anyway; and as to Dr. Abbie +Cruller, I guess your mother wasn't far out. She said I never had had a +well day since I knew that woman, and I do believe that's so; but I've +got a wonderful new doctor now; don't charge a cent; and you tell your +mother to come over and see me and stay to tea. My hand's out making +blueberry cake, but I'm going to try."</p> + +<p>But this interview was hours after Doris Keith and the Conners had +driven away. Mrs. Conner gave her husband a graphic account of the +"miracle." "Ann Bigelow will have it's no less," says she.</p> + +<p>"Thing pleased me," chuckles Conner, wrinkling his eyes out of sight in +his ironic enjoyment—"thing pleased me was the way she'd go on 'bout +Miss Keith's eyes piercing her right through, after Miss Keith had +practysed them eyes on you 'n' me all the evening, jest from my +description of that Indian doctor. Well, she done it well; but I wish I +could have seen it!"</p> + +<p>"Will Mrs. Darter keep right on and not back-slide, think?" said Mrs. +Conner.</p> + +<p>"I think she will," said Doris; "I hope she will. And there's one thing: +after I'm gone (I shall have to run away from my reputation) you must +own up about your ankle—and <i>me</i> to Miss Darter and poor, trusting Miss +Bigelow. She's such a good soul! Mrs. Darter—well, you will know when +it's safe to tell Mrs. Darter."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" said Conner, "Emmy'll be grateful! I guess we'll go slow on the +Widow Darter; and as to Ann Bigelow—"</p> + +<p>"I do feel sneaky about her," sighed Doris. "It's touching, her faith. +She's a simple-hearted creature. I hate to uproot her."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you needn't be afraid," said Conner, grinning; "she won't be +uprooted. She will say it's jest as much mental healing as if you done +it in earnest. And ain't Mrs. Darter healed? she'll say."</p> + +<p>"Well," Doris mused aloud, "I dare say she's right. It certainly was a +mental healing, and how far the power of the mind to heal goes none of +us can say. Perhaps, after all, she is right, and it <i>is</i> a bit of a +miracle, although it was only a miracle play!"</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES THAT END WELL***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 33499-h.txt or 33499-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/3/4/9/33499">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/4/9/33499</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>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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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL</a> + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** +</pre> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/33499-h/images/cover.jpg b/33499-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..df5b721 --- /dev/null +++ b/33499-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/33499.txt b/33499.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1783060 --- /dev/null +++ b/33499.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7498 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Stories That End Well, by Octave Thanet + + +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: Stories That End Well + An Adventure in Altruria----Through the Terrors of the Law----The Real Thing----The Old Partisan----Max--Or His Picture----The Stout Miss Hopkins' Bicycle----The Spellbinder----The Object of the Federation----The Little Lonely Girl----The Hero of Company G----A Miracle Play + + +Author: Octave Thanet + + + +Release Date: August 25, 2010 [eBook #33499] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES THAT END WELL*** + + +E-text prepared by Darleen Dove, Roger Frank, Mary Meehan, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) + + + +STORIES THAT END WELL + +by + +OCTAVE THANET + +Author of "The Man of the Hour," "The Lion's Share," "By Inheritance," +Etc. + + + + + + + +New York +Grosset & Dunlap +Publishers + +Copyright 1911 +The Bobbs-Merrill Company + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I AN ADVENTURE IN ALTRURIA + + II THROUGH THE TERRORS OF THE LAW + + III THE REAL THING + + IV THE OLD PARTISAN + + V MAX--OR HIS PICTURE + + VI THE STOUT MISS HOPKINS' BICYCLE + + VII THE SPELLBINDER + + VIII THE OBJECT OF THE FEDERATION + + IX THE LITTLE LONELY GIRL + + X THE HERO OF COMPANY G + + XI A MIRACLE PLAY + + +The stories in this book were originally printed in _Harper's Magazine_, +_Harper's Bazaar_, _The Century Magazine_, _McClure's Magazine_, +_Scribner's Magazine_ and _The Woman's Home Companion_, and to these +periodicals acknowledgements are due for their courtesy in giving +permission for republication. + + + + +STORIES THAT END WELL + + + + +AN ADVENTURE IN ALTRURIA + + +The story came to me through my friend, Mrs. Katherine Biff. Mrs. Biff +is a widow. Her profession--I will not slight her beautiful art by a +lesser word--is that of cook. She cooks for my cousin, Elinor, and it +was during one of Elinor's absences in Europe that Mrs. Biff had her +experience in Altruria, as the supply for Miss Mercedes Van Arden. It +was highly interesting, I think. + +She gave me the episode herself; because, in the first place, I am +Elinor's own cousin (like the rest of the world, she loves Elinor) and +in the second place, she knows that I appreciate her conversation. +Assuredly I do value Katy's freehand sketches of life. She is a shrewd +observer. Often while she talks I recall Stevenson's description of +another: "She is not to be deceived nor think a mystery solved when it +is repeated." + +Katy is an American by birth, but Celtic by race and by nature; a widow +to whom children never were granted, but who out of her savings has +helped educate and settle half a dozen of her nieces and nephews. Katy's +married life was brief and not happy. The late Biff was a handsome man +who never let other people's comforts or rights interfere with his own +pleasure. Nevertheless, when he was killed in a saloon brawl she did not +grudge him many carriages for his last journey (she who believes in +simple funerals. "When I give free rides, I'll give 'em while I'm alive +and can hear folks say 'Thank you!'" says she), and she has erected a +neat stone to his memory. + +It was three years after his death that Mrs. Biff came to Elinor, with +whom she has lived since. + +Elinor, one may say, bequeathed her to the Van Ardens. At least she +suggested them importunately to Katy. To me she explained, "Katy is a +maternal soul, and she can't help taking care of Mercy Van Arden, who is +a stray angel in a wicked world and _thinks_ she is a socialist." + +We are conservative, peaceful, mid-Westerners in our town, and the only +socialists belong to a class that we do not meet nor recognize save by +their names in the papers published preliminary to fiery addresses +delivered at not very reputable tavern halls. Therefore, to have a +cultivated socialist, a young lady of wealth, who regarded her fortune +as a "trust," come to live among us was exciting. Her aunt, from whom +she had recently inherited her fortune, was well known to us, being a +large property owner in the town. She, the late aunt, was not in the +least a socialist; on the contrary, we esteemed her a particularly +shrewd and merciless adept at a bargain. She had a will of her own; and +considering that Miss Mercedes had borne the yoke for ten years, it was +generally considered that she had earned her legacy. + +Under all these conditions of interest, I admit I was glad enough to see +Katy Biff's decent black hat approaching the side door the day after her +entrance into the Van Arden family circle. + + * * * * * + +"Well, Miss Patsy," she began, "I guess you know she's queer; I thought +I knew most of the brands of wine and women, as old Judge Howells used +to say, but this one beats me! I came 'round to the yard--she's hired +the Bateman place, furnished, you know, while the Batemans are towering +in Canada, she and her sister, who's a doctor lady. I hope the doctor'll +be a kinder balance wheel, but she's got a chore! + +"As I was saying, I came 'round the yard, aiming for the kitchen door, +when I heard somebody calling, and there she was opening the front door +to Nellie Small. Don't you remember Nellie Small? She was the Batemans' +waitress for three months--poor young things--and smashed a lot of their +nice wedding presents, the other girl told _me_. She's the kind that +always looks so fine and never dusts the hind legs of the table. I +wasn't none too pleased at the sight of her, but Miss Van Arden, she was +awful polite; took us both right into the _parlor_ and made us set down. +I got worried thinking she'd mistook, and I hesitate a minute and then I +says: + +"'Miss Van Arden, I was going 'round to the kitchen door; I've come to +see about the cook's place.' + +"'I know,' says she right quick, with a little lift of her pretty brown +head. 'I know,' says she, 'you're Mrs. Biff, and you,' says she, smiling +so pretty on that Nellie trash, '_you're_ Miss Small.' + +"'I _am_,' says Nellie, tossing her head. + +"So then she begins; and from that beginning, and calling us in that +way, you can imagine how she went on. She explained that while she was a +poor girl at her aunty's she read a lovely book about an imaginary +country called Altruria; and that the gentleman who wrote it didn't +think we _could_ do that way in this country; she supposed we couldn't, +but she was going to try, and she hoped we would like her and help her. +She didn't know much about housekeeping; she had helped her aunty, but +it was writing letters and doing errands and dusting brac-a-brac (and +she laughed); the only things she knew how to do right well was to dust +and to polish jewelry and make tea. But she hoped to learn; and she had +got all the machinery she could think of; there was an electric washer +and an ironing machine, and a dishwashing machine, and bread and cake +machines, and we ought not to need to work more than eight hours a day. +She didn't believe really in more than six hours a day, but at first +maybe we wouldn't mind eight. + +"I could see that Nellie drinking it all in, getting more topping every +minute. + +"'Miss Van Arden,' says she, 'how about evenings? I'm used to having +_all_ my evenings.' + +"'I ain't, madam,' says I, 'not if there's dinner company. And I know +well enough Nellie ain't, neither.' + +"'I--I could have dinner in the middle of the day,' says Miss Van Arden +real pitiful, 'if it weren't that my sister comes in tired at night and +likes a hot meal; but I've got a fireless stove, and it _might_ be +cooked and left in the fireless stove and we could wait on ourselves.' + +"'I guess that'll be satisfactory,' says Nellie, dipping her head and +smiling a haughty smile, while I was quivering to git a word in Miss Van +Arden's ear. But, of course, there was no chance. And Miss Van Arden, +she went on to say that she didn't eat meat herself, but her sister +liked to have it, so--' + +"'I have to have meat myself,' hops in that Nellie. + +"'Oh, of course,' Miss Van Arden said; she didn't dictate to others, but +personally she didn't eat meat; but she didn't need any special +vegetable dishes made for her. + +"'You shall have 'em if you want 'em, ma'am,' says I; then, 'and I +guess the cook will have something to say about the kitchen table; I +ain't never much on meat myself.' I guess that was one for miss! + +"'Oh, thank you,' says Miss Van Arden real grateful--she's jest as +sweet's they make 'em, Miss Patsy. Then she looked very timidly at +Nellie and the color came into her face. + +"'I should like to have you take your meals with me if--if I were +alone,' she stammers, 'but my sister--we have so little time +together--we'll try not to make much waiting--' She got into a kind of +mess of stammers, when I cut in and told her that we much preferred to +eat in our own pantry, which was big enough for a dining-room. + +"Well, you can guess, Miss Patsy, that about this time I was wishing +myself well out of it all, for I've lived with notional folks before, +and folks who wanted to make friends of their help, and what I like with +strangers is to have them keep their side of the fence and I'll keep +mine; I ain't seeking any patronage from nobody, and I got too much +self-respect not to be respectful. But I'd promised Mrs. Caines; so I +simply told what wages I wanted, and I made 'em reasonable, too. But +Nellie--my! she named a sum two dollars a week more'n she ever'd got and +four dollars more'n she was worth; and for hatred of meddling I sat +still and let that poor little sweet Babe in the Woods agree to it. But +I miss my guess if I have to put up with Nellie long! + +"So we was engaged. Not a word about any day's work in the week or when +she has sweeping done (she said she'd do the dusting herself--and she's +_wise_, with Nellie 'round) or when she had bakings or anything; only +that she'd have a laundress come in three days (eight hours a day) and +do all our washing. We got a room apiece, but we haven't got a bathroom +like at Mrs. Caines', so she told us we could have the guest bathroom. +My! but I wish you'd heard her; and she's just the prettiest thing in +the world and wears the prettiest clothes. Her clothes is all that gives +me hope of her! She said she embroidered her shirt-waist herself; and I +guess if she can sit up and take that amount of notice, she's got the +makings of sense in her! + +"She said could I come that day. I said, 'Yes, ma'am.' + +"'You needn't call me that,' says she; 'I don't care for those little +distinctions.' + +"'If you please, ma'am,' I says, kind but firm, 'they're fitting and +proper and I prefer it, ma'am.' + +"Well, Miss Patsy, I got my first dinner yesterday. I even made the +salad, which belongs to the waitress, but I couldn't risk Nellie Small's +ideas of French dressing _yet_! Miss Patsy, she set her own plate at +table. + +"'Now,' says I, 'let's talk plain United States a minute. Whether that +poor, innercent, looney lady craves our company or not, she ain't going +to git it. When I'm cooking a dinner I ain't dressed up for company. I +want _my_ meals in peace, and you ought to want _yours_; they got their +own gossip, same's us; and whatever Miss Van Arden might be willing to +do, the doctor'll want to have her sister and her friends to herself +without you and me butting in; just as I want my meals to myself without +_them_!' + +"Nellie told me she was just as good as them; and I said I wasn't the +one that had to decide that; goodness was something only the Lord +Almighty got the scales for weighing exact, but I'd bet money, if it +came to sheer, imbecile cleanness of heart and willingness to sacrifice +herself for any old thing, that Miss Van Arden could give us both a long +start and then beat us! But I guessed we'd leave that part out. Sich +things was just business. We got to take the world's we found it. So she +said _she_ wouldn't take the plate off. I said I wasn't proud; wherefore +I took it off myself, and she didn't put no more on, and the sisters had +their meal in peace. She come when the buzzer called her and waited +fairly well--she's bright enough when she wants to be. + +"Doctor? Oh, she's a horse of another color. She's ten years older'n her +sister and ain't seen much of her since their parents died and Miss +Mercy went to live with her aunty, and she seems to set a good deal by +her and be puzzled by her, too. She's got a good appetite and knows good +food. I can git along with _her_ all right. But I mistrust that Nellie, +being so half baked, we'll get our trouble soon! We've a colored man +looks out for the furnace and beats the rugs and tends to the yard and +does chores; he seems a decent sort of man. I got a rise out of Nellie +'bout him, though. She was just _boiling_ and sissing when I remarked, +'You think everybody's as good as everybody else, so I expect you won't +mind having Amos set down with us.' Why, she flew into fifty pieces. +'Eat with a nigger!' she screamed. + +"Of course, I was only fooling, and he was glad enough to get a good +meal in the laundry; he's a real nice, sensible man. But my lady was +off, not so much as putting the dishes in the washing machine. Marched +off with her young man, who's on strike; so he's underfoot most of the +time. That kind makes me tired!" + + * * * * * + +Naturally, after this conversation with Katy I agreed with my sister +that it would be interesting to call; and we planned an early day. It +was, however, even earlier than our plans. + +My chamber (at my sister's house, where I was visiting) is on the side +near the Bateman house; and it happened to be I who first discovered the +smoke volleying out of the Bateman furnace chimney, followed by a +roaring spout of flame. I knew Katy had gone to our little up-town +grocery, for I had seen her on the way; and I made all haste across the +lawn, with all our ice-cream salt. The fire really was easily dealt +with. By the time the firemen arrived (summoned by Nellie), all was over +save the shouting, as they say in the political reports. Amos and Nellie +were still calling "Fire!" Katy arrived a good second to the hose cart, +breathless with running, but all her wits in good order. + +"Long's you've put out the fire, Miss Patsey, I'll put out the fire +department," said she; "they're the only danger. Miss Mercy, you open +all the windows; let's git rid of the smoke. Nellie, what you carrying +your clothes out for?" + +Mercedes quite won our hearts by her docility and the quiet way she +obeyed. Perhaps it was in recognition that Katy became her tower of +refuge when the cause of the fire appeared. It was no less than Amos. He +had been hired without any heartless prying into recommendations, on the +ideal Altrurian ground of Need. He was asked, to be sure, could he run a +furnace, and with the optimism of the African replied that he reckoned +he could. He did not add that he had never tried to run one before. +Doubtless it was natural that he should not discover the meaning of the +cunning chains going through the floors; and when dampers increase the +draft if shut and diminish it if open, who can wonder that Amos should +artlessly shut everything in sight--including the registers? Natural +laws did the rest. + +Amos was very patient, almost tearful. He said he didn't know whatever +Sally would do when he come home outen a job; Sally be'n so satisfied +befo' but he didn't cast no blame on nobody. Sally, it came out later, +was ill. + +"Is it anything infectious?" demanded Mercedes' sister, the doctor, who +by this time was on the scene. + +"I dunno, ma'am; I reckon _'tis_," deprecated Amos. "Hit's a right new +baby, come a week ago, an' she ain't got up yit." + +Then it was while Nellie glibly proposed a new man, a man of assured +efficiency, two years janitor of a "flat," and the brother of a friend; +and Mercedes Van Arden had only bewildered compassion to justify her +desire to forgive the culprit; and Doctor Van Arden frowned, that Katy +spoke the word of power. + +"Doctor," said she, "Amos mayn't know much about the furnace, but he's +a decent, honest man that found my ten cents out on the steps and gave +it to me; and I know how to run furnaces, and I'll learn him. What's +more, I can burn up _all_ the coal, and not smoke up the house or the +neighborhood. And one good thing--if Amos can't run a furnace, he +_knows_ it now, anyhow; there's many a janitor man's been smoking up +flats for years ain't found out _that_ yet. Doctor, I'll answer for Amos +if you ladies will keep him." + +Amos was kept. I fancied that Mercedes was almost as grateful as he. + +After this for a time matters went on in a sufficiently prosaic and +satisfactory manner. We put both of the sisters up in the Monday Club +and the doctor consented to talk to the club on the "Smoke Nuisance" at +our meeting in which we discussed that bane of the housekeeper, under +the startling caption, "The City of Dreadful Night." We asked Mercedes +to embody her own Social Creed in a fifteen-minute paper; but she +pleaded almost with tears that she was simply a student who had not +studied enough to know, only to feel; and she blushed deeply. So she was +reprieved. Meanwhile the doctor (who had been quietly working up a +practise in our town for six years) began to be seen at the bedsides of +divers prominent ladies. + +Several of us asked the sisters to luncheon, to dinner and to bridge +parties. In return, the sisters entertained the club at tea, a function +whereat Katy covered herself with glory, and Nellie graciously consented +to pass plates and listen and break two heavy Colonial goblets--Nellie +was slim and light on her feet, but she surely had a heavy hand. + +Katy came over to borrow our monkey wrench the next morning because +Nellie and the friend whom she had recommended to assist in waiting, had +contrived to loosen a water faucet. She was brimming with criticisms of +this last helper, as well as of Nellie. + +"Did she stay to help wash dishes?" Thus she let her suppressed disgust +explode. "Well, I should _say_! And got extry pay for staying, too, and +had her young man in for supper afterward; and the things she gave him +to carry away, the fancy candies with bow-knots on them, and the cakes +with roses, and the _marionglasyes_! And when I spoke up to her she +claimed Miss Mercy _told_ her to--and there's no saying, maybe she did! +Her young man's on strike; he's at the locomotive works; she claims he +gits four-fifty a day and he's striking for more, I expect; he's been on +strike six weeks now, and he comes here to meals four times a week and +eats--well, Miss Mercy said, 'Make him welcome,' so I do; but I own to +you, Miss Patsy, something I feel real bad about. That young Mr. Gordon, +it's his pa is president of the works; he's a real nice young man jest +out of Harvard College, and he met Miss Mercy in Chicago and went 'round +a lot with her, and I made up my mind and Nellie made up hers--and she +ain't a fool, Nellie, for all she's so flighty--that they were going to +make a match of it; but Nellie got Miss Mercy to promise she'd go speak +to old Mr. Gordon about the strike; Miss Mercy's got a awful lot of +stock herself, in the works; and I dunno the rights of it, but I'm sure +those young things had _words_! It's a bitter black shame, too, it is, +dragging that poor child in! Doctor don't like it any more than I do. +And poor little Miss Mercy, she's scared to death; but _that_ won't stop +her; the more it hurts, the more she is sure she had ought to do it." + +I didn't think little Miss Van Arden could move old Mr. Gordon's +convictions; but it was true that she was the largest individual +stockholder in the works, and hence she might make trouble with the +wavering minds, certainly trouble enough to irritate the president, who +was a sterling, but not always a patient man. + +"They want to run the works as a closed shop, don't they?" I asked. + +"Jest that. Miss Mercy, if she _is_ a reforming lady, she ain't +arrergant like most sich; and she asked me what I thought about the +strike. She got my opinion of it cold. 'There's strikes and strikes,' +says I. 'Strikes for higher wages may be right or wrong, as depends, but +a strike for the right to keep every other man but your gang out of a +job is bound to be wrong. I ain't no sympathy with any kind of closed +shops, whether the bosses close 'em to union men, or the union men close +'em to everybody 'cept themselves.'" + +The next day I saw the little Socialist's white, miserable face go by my +window with Katy's solid cheer at her elbow. She had agreed to see Mr. +Gordon first before she appeared at the board meetting, and (as Katy put +it) "poured coal oil on the fire to put it out." Of course, there was a +useless journey. Mr. Gordon felt moved to utter certain pet opinions of +his own regarding the ease of making mischief when ignorant people +interfered in business. If it was any comfort to her to know that she +was giving him an infernal lot of trouble she could take it all right; +but he had to do right according to his own conscience, and not hers, +and he wished her good-morning. Very limp and dejected she departed. + +"'The worst of it is,' she says to me, Katy related, 'the worst of all +is, while I believe he ought to do what the men want rather than keep up +the strike, I don't really feel _sure_ they ought to want him to do it. +It's so hard on the outside men.' Oh, she's got some sense straying +about her, though it's mainly lost to view. But I do wish she could make +it up with her beau. He ain't been 'round for a week; and when folks +ain't got a meat diet they can't stand the strain of being crossed in +love!" + +Even Katy's Celtic loyalty was staggered the next week. She came over on +a perfectly needless borrowing errand to tell me. + +"Did you see it, ma'am? Being my afternoon out, I wasn't there. Did +_you_ see that woman tumble down on our grass and herself run out with +Amos and Mrs. Kane?" (Mrs. Kane was the laundress, who acted also as +scrubwoman once a week, Nellie's health not being equal to the weekly +cleaning required in a tidy household.) "Did you see it? I began to +sniff the minute I struck the hall. My word! I knowed it. Then I begun +to hear the groans--_'O-o-ah! O-o-ah!'_ mumbling, grumbling kind of +groans--I didn't need anything more to get next to that situation, no, +ma'am. Mrs. Kane come tumbling down-stairs. You know her, Miss Patsy, +Tim Kane's widow, a fair-to-middling laundress and next door to a fool +about everything else. Jest the kind that gits a good husband like +Timothy and then fools away the money he leaves her and has to come on +the wash tub. Down-stairs she comes--wild! The poor woman, they'd seen +her fall outside, and Miss Mercy and she'd taken her in on a mattress +with Amos to help; Amos wanted to call the amberlance, but Miss Mercy +said no, they'd take her to the police; so they three took the poor +creature into the house. And 'Oh, hear her groan!' I said, yes, she was +easy to hear. I guess Amos felt all right; but you know niggers are +biddable, and whatever they think, the creatures do like they're told. + +"Well, I walked up-stairs. She was there in the guest chamber on one of +the twin beds with the flowery card, 'Sleep gently in this quiet room,' +etcetery, over the towsledest head and _sech_ skirts! She'd been having +a time for sure. Herself had put a wet ice bandage on the woman's head +and a hot-water bag to her feet, and she was a-laying her hands, her own +pretty, soft, little, white, trembling hands, to her awful shoes, but +says _I_: + +"'You _stop_! Don't you tech her!' + +"'I must,' says she; 'they're soaked.' + +"'Don't you see what's the matter of her?' say I. 'She's dead drunk!' + +"I reckoned she'd deny it. Not a bit. 'I suppose so,' says she; 'that's +why I wouldn't let them call the amberlance.' + +"'And do you mean to keep her _here_?' says I. 'That drunken rubbish?' + +"Well, she does; she was awful sorry for the trouble to us, but the +woman fell down at her door, and she was in dire misery, and Miss Mercy +she felt she had _got_ to take her in. My word, Miss Patsy, I had to +shet my teeth a minute to keep back my feelings, but every word I said +was: 'I guess you better move that other bed out and then you can _burn_ +this one!' Heavens, I ain't going to describe the next hour till the +doctor come. Now, she's laying comfortable in the doctor's gown, in that +nice clean bed, and I've made her chicken broth and mustard plasters and +everything else for her comfort. + +"When the doctor come, she said, 'This goes the limit,' and then she bit +off the rest and swallered it and said, 'We'll have to scrub her.' And +we did--with washing powder and scouring soap. I hope it hurt, but I'm +'fraid it didn't." + +"How does Nellie take it?" + +The sorely tried Mrs. Biff grinned. "'Tis that keeps me from quite +sinking; she is most dretful horrified and vowing she's going to leave." + +However, Nellie did not go; it was the castaway whom they had succored +who awoke in her right mind before any one was stirring the next +morning, clothed herself, for lack of her own rags (which were airing in +the back yard), in a decent brown dress, cloak and hat of the doctor's +from the guest-room closet, put on the doctor's large, serviceable +boots, and gathering the loose silver and three one-dollar banknotes +left in Katy's cash box, otherwise her "cup" from the pantry shelf, +departed into the unknown nether world from whence she came. + +"And a mercy she didn't murder us in our beds!" opined Nellie; "maybe +she will yet!" + +Nellie's prophecy appeared less grotesque the following week when her +young man, Phil, by Christian name--I did not come to know his +surname--discovered at the police station or the engine house (he +frequenting both places in his wealth of leisure) that the castaway had +escaped from a quarantined house full of smallpox, in a little hamlet +near by. Here was a situation! Nellie vowed she wouldn't sleep a wink +were she Mrs. Kane or Amos, particularly Amos, because colored folk took +naturally to smallpox. + +Amos only grinned; but Mrs. Kane was palpably nervous and began +inquiring into symptoms of what Nellie termed "the dread disease." + +Presently she was feeling them faithfully. And Katy shrugged the +shoulder of scorn. But scorn turned into consternation by Monday, for +an agitated neighbor came to the front door to announce that Mrs. Kane +was sick in bed with an awful fever and broke out terrible, and would +the doctor please step over there. + +"And all the clothes in the suds!" sighed Katy. "But that's nothing. +Poor Miss Mercy! she's almost out of her mind; she says that _she's_ to +blame; she's brought smallpox on that innocent woman, and most like +she'll die; and if she hadn't been so wicked and headstrong and had +listened to her friend (she didn't name nobody, but I know she means +young Gordon) and her sister, it wouldn't have happened; she hadn't even +helped the woman who fetched the smallpox; she'd only tempted her to +crime! And what should she say to poor Mrs. Bateman? Nobody wanted to +rent her home to be a pest-house. And she'd set the house afire by +hiring an ignorant man--Oh, she was a wicked girl! Her aunty often told +her she was a fool, and oh, why hadn't she believed her and not tried to +do things too big for her senseless head? And she's been fairly crying +her eyes out. The poor, sweet, humble-minded little thing!" + +Poor little Mercy! But I was to pity her much more during the succeeding +ten minutes. Amos came out to the barberry hedge to tell our cook that +Miss Mercy was in bed and he 'lowed she'd smallpox. He was off in +pursuit of the doctor, who was at Mrs. Kane's who'd got a fearful bad +case. Hardly was Amos out of sight than Nellie, in her cheap imitation +of the latest fashion of big hat, dashed out of the gate after the +street car. So do rats desert the sinking ship, I thought. Straightway I +went over to the house. Katy herself answered the bell. She was in two +minds about ejecting me by force, but she softened when I recalled to +her how recently I had been vaccinated. + +"Well, Miss Patsy, that's _so_," she admitted, "and besides, I ain't +absolutely sure _'tis_ smallpox. But she'd a kinder chill and I wouldn't +let her come down-stairs. Say, you don't happen to have seen Nellie +anywhere?" + +When I told her, she drew a long sigh. We were standing at the side +door, where a great Norway fir shakes its blue-green shadows. + +"'Tis like her," said Katy bitterly, "and only yesterday Miss Mercy gave +her sech a pretty waist. And now she's run off and Miss Mercy's got the +smallpox--mebbe. Well, I dunno as it's as dangerous as Alterruria, and +mebbe one will cure the other--Oh, _say_! Look, Miss Patsy!" + +I looked. They came in a kind of rush with the flutter of brilliant +autumn leaves, swirling around the house corner--Nellie and young Ralph +Gordon. Nellie's cheeks were blazing, but young Gordon looked white and +stern. + +"Why, Nellie Small, ain't you run away?" cried Katy. + +Before Nellie could retort, the young gentleman took the limelight. + +"Where is Miss Mercy?" he demanded in that tone of voice which the +novelists call "tense;" "I must say a few words to her. You can let me +say them through the door, if you wish, Mrs. Biff." + +Katy hardly considered; her eyes shone into his masterful face. She +turned on her heel and he followed her. Instantly Nellie's excitement +found burning words: "I _heard_ her, Miss McFarlin! She thinks I ran +away! _Me!_ Well, I know she has a mean opinion of me, but I didn't +expect she'd be that unjust. I'm jest as fond of Miss Mercy as she is; +I only sprinted down the street to ketch her young man, because I know +they had a misunderstanding, and I was sure, no matter how mad he was, +the minute I told him, he'd come a-running, and whether they let her see +him or not, it would cheer her up a whole lot to know he tried. And as +for Mrs. Biff's pitying Miss Mercy and finding fault with her, _I_ can +tell you she's made me believe things Mrs. Biff nor nobody else could if +she offered me the kingdom of heaven and a chromo! I never believed +before rich folks _could_ be like her. I don't know what that Altrury of +hers is, but if _she_ believes in it _I'm_ going to; and so is Phil, and +he's going to make them stop the strike, too; and it's a whole lot +because of what she's said and what I've said 'bout her. It is, for +fair!" + +Thereupon Nellie burst into tears, and disappeared behind the kitchen +lattice. + +Later, some hours later, I had a chance to tell Katy. But it was then no +news to her. She shook her philosophic head. "'Lightning and grace,' +Biff used to say, 'you can't noways bet on, for there's no manner of +knowing _where_ they'll strike.' Now that Nellie, she fairly bu'st into +Miss Mercy's room, me being busy seeing Mr. Gordon safe outer the +house; and I expected to find she'd riz Miss Mercy's temperature; but +she'd most cured her instid; and Miss Mercy she set up and laffed out +loud. And she ain't got smallpox, neither, not a bit; no more'n that +ijit Sallie Kane, who's down with German measles and nothing wuss. I +guess we was all more scared than hurt. But it beats all about +Nellie--well, I want to be fair to all, she's been doing the sweeping +better for a good while. All I say is, if Alterruria can convert Nellie +Small there must be something decent in Alterruria." + +"I wish it might convert all of us--a _little_," said I. "I'm afraid I'm +not enlightened enough to desire entire conversion; it would demand a +new incarnation!" + + + + +THROUGH THE TERRORS OF THE LAW + +A STORY OF ARKANSAS + + +Sist' Esmeralda Humphreys was not present at the meeting of Zion +Hard-shell Baptist Church. It is questionable whether there had been any +such meeting had she been likely to attend, since how to dispense with +the ministry of Sister Humphreys was its object, and the sister was a +woman of power. But she had gone to the store for her semi-annual +settlement of account. Therefore the disaffected in Zion raised their +heads, perceiving that their hour was come. + +The "church-house" (of a week-day the school-house) crowned a gentle +rise of ground on the outskirts of an Arkansas plantation. It was backed +by the great gum forests, where the sun rose, while on one side, winding +toward the reddening evening skies, the cypress slash had eaten its way +through the brown clay to the Black River. Full of mystery and uncanny +beauty was the slash, its sluggish gleam of water creeping darkly under +solemn cypresses and monstrous hackberry-trees, tinseled with cow-lilies +in summer, spattered with blood-red berries in winter, green with +delicate beauty when the cypress is in leaf, or gray and softly brown +when its short-lived foliage falls. Did one care to deal in mystical +analogy, one might find in the slash suggestions of the African's +undeveloped soul, where brute and child still battle for mastery. + +It was a school-house for children of the darker race only, and only +negroes were in the little band whose hymns penetrated the wide sweep of +cotton-fields, the weird African cadences wilder and more mournful than +the hoot-owl's oboe keening in the forest. To-night the house was but +sparsely filled by the regular worshipers, Zion congregation proper. +Brother Zubaeel Morrow presided, because he had once attended a district +Republican convention, where he had imbibed parliamentary lore. + +"Dis meetin' will please come to ordah," he announced; "is you-all ready +fo' de question?" + +"W' are question, Bruddah Morrow?" called out a brother in the rear +seats. + +"Bruddah Carroll, you is out of ordah. Whenst I git in dis cheer an take +dis gabble,"--he extended the hatchet used, before its promotion, to +chop kindling,--"take notice, I is de _Cheer_; you-all is to 'dress me +as 'Mist' Cheerman.' You is axin' 'bout de question: de question is, +Shall Sist' Esmereldy Humphreys continner to usu'p de rights of we-alls +pastor? Ain't dat the onderstandin' of dis here awjence?" + +Signs of approval and assent came from the audience. The chairman, +rising, took the attitude of the white speaker whom he had admired most +at the convention, plunging one hand into the bosom of his +coat--buttoned for that purpose--and gazing solemnly about him. All the +colored population of the country-side were proud of the school-house, +which was painted a neat lead color as to wood-work and brown as to +walls; with red lettering done by a member who had followed the +painter's trade (although not very far), declaring piously on the west +wall, "The Lord will provide," and politely requesting on the east wall, +"Please do not spit on the floor." A stately blackboard behind the +teacher's desk showed her excellent moral sentiments and penmanship. +There was no carpet on the floor, but it was clean and the windows +glistened. + +"Dis yere school-house, dis yere chu'ch-house, are a credit to de cullud +ladies an' gen'l'men of Zion Baptis' Chu'ch," declaimed Brother Morrow, +sonorously, "an' we-all had orter have a pastor who w'u'd--we'd +correspond. I ain't sayin' one word of disparaguement of our late +deseased pastor. He be'n a good, pious man" ("Amen!" from two half-grown +lads in the rear), "but he had a terrible sight of losses an' troubles, +losin' all of his chillen like he done; an' him sick such a spell befo' +de Lawd called him f'om grace to glory. Mabbe he didn't be'n eloquent +like the supply we had, but Elder W'ite had nare right to git Sist' Lucy +Tompkins to run 'way wid 'im, f'om 'er good, kin', respectable husban'" +(a little crumpled, elderly negro raised his head with an air of modest +pride), "an' he done borry two dollars an' fifty cents of de cheer dat I +don't expec' nothin' of ontwel de jedgment day! So w'en our pastor +passed away we'all was like sheep outen a shepherd; an' we'en Sist' +Humphreys done offah to keep de' chu'ch-house clean an' cyah on de +services of Zion, an' make no cha'ges, we-all acceptid." + +"Mist' Cheerman,"--a grizzled negro in decent black held up a +finger,--"Mist' Cheerman, was hit Sist' Humphreys keep dis 'ouse dis +away?" + +"Yes, Bruddah Moore; she are a right good scrubber," admitted the +chairman, while the congregation stared at the speaker, the richest +colored man in the county, who had moved into the neighborhood recently, +this being his first appearance in Zion. + +"Fo' a spell," continued the chairman, "t'ings went on suspiciously +enough. Sist' Humphreys be'n an edicated lady; an' she is a plumb good +cook. Her preachin' didn't be'n whut we-all air longin' to heah; nare +shakin' of de soul ovah de mouf of hell, nare mo'nin', nare revivals; +but we hilt our peace, an' Zion attendid regular, an' las' socherable +gatherin' there be'n nigh a hunderd, big an' little, presint--" + +"And she gave us all cake and candy and lemonade with ice in it!" a +woman's mellow voice called out. + +The heads of the congregation went round in the direction of the voice, +and a large number of rolling black eyes stared at the school-teacher, +whose comely brown face showed that deepening of tint which is the same +as an Anglo-Saxon's blush. "Teacher" had been educated at Tuskegee and +was suspected of being "biggity." + +The chairman gave her a gloomy nod. "No doubt, my sistah, no doubt +hankerin' ayfter de flesh-pots of Egypt done fotch _some_ po' sinnahs t' +de altar. I ain't complainin' of de carnil an' carniferous food she done +give us, but of de spitichul nu'ishment. I nev' did see a mo'ner rollin' +on dis flo' w'ilst Sist Humphreys be'n yere. We-all be'n thirstin' an' +famishin' fo' a good ol'-time revival. But we enjured ontwel one day de +glory come on Br'er Pope, an' he hollered,--tryin' to lif' us all +up,--Amen! Amen! Let de sinner quit sinnin' an' he _shill_ be saved!' +An' dat ar woman she call out: 'Yes; _let_ 'im quit sinnin'! Let 'im +quit sellin' of aigs to de sto' w'en he don't be keepin' only one hen!' +Dat ar remark incinerated false an' wicked notions 'bout Unc' Alick +Pope, who lives nigh de cunnel's chicken-yard." (A solitary giggle +from the shoolmistress.) "She done fa'ly r'ar an' charge 'bout +chicken-stealin'. Dat ain't promote edderfication nor good feelin'." +(Groans of assent from a deeply interested audience.) "But nex' +Sabbath come wuss. She done announce she be'n 'lowin' to preach us a +serious discourse on de Ten Commandmints. Well, we-all done look dem +commandmints up an' study on dem a heap. We felt tol'able secure on de +Fust an' Second, she lumpin' dem togedder fo' one out at preachin'; an' +we sat back easy, hopin' fo' grace an' true religion; but she jes slued +roun' on to conjure-cha'ms an' such, invagin' ag'in' dem twell we got +all de devotional feelin' plumb squoze outen us. Third Commandmint we +natchelly didn't expec' no harm of; but ayfter de fust godly words 'bout +profane sw'arin', ef she didn't git on to false sw'arin' befo' the gran' +jury, 'bout crap-shootin', en git us all terrible oncomfortable. Nex' +command she didn't be'n sound on, sayin' a heap 'bout washin' up in tubs +Sattiddy nights, an' tew little 'bout de spitichul ovservation of the +holy day; an' come down hard on a respectid brother who sayd once, 'I +isn't to wash in winter'; an' sayd bad wuds 'bout sisters dat went +visitin' Sattiddy evenin's, stidder washin' up ready fo' de holy day; +sayd some sisters nev' did wash de po' little tricks' shirts, jes' taken +a new flour-sack an' cut holes in it. She talked like dat ontwel it be'n +right ondecent and onchristian; an' one sister dat's subjec' to fits +providenchelly done t'rowed one an' bruk up de meetin'. But we-all +sorter done spunk up on de Fif' Commandmint; looked lak _hit_ be'n sho' +harmliss; an' we done fotch de chillen to learn deir juty to deir +parents. Well, dey sho' _got_ it! But den she done scorched de parents +mightily 'bout de 'zample dey be'n bleeged to set de chillen. Dat ar +be'n a fearful, sufferin' hour, an' I nev' did see dis yere congregation +so dry an' havin' to git out de pump so often. Dey went by whole +famblies; an' befo' she be'n frow mighty nigh ever' las' chil' b'en +taken outside. We didn't _dast_ let 'em see frow it." (Groans all over +the house.) "She nigh bust de chu'ch on de Sixth Commandmint wid +outrageous rema'ks on _razors_. An' nex' Sunday comes de Seventh +Commandmint, an' we ain't nowise willin to enjure her handlin' of _dat_, +nohow." (Deep groans of assent from brothers and sisters alike.) "Nor de +Eight', neider." ("No, _no_!" from the seat of Uncle Alexander Pope.) +"Wust is, de ongodly outside, de Methodists an' de cullud folks from de +Ridge, is fixin' to come over an' see we-all ripped up. De chu'ch house +be'n plumb full ever' Sabbath, an' we-all don' dast stay 'way, not +knowin' what scandillous stories will be circulated." ("Dat's so!" +"Holp, Lord!" from earnest souls in the audience.) "An' de chu'ch is +losin' of members. Bruddah Dan Williams done moved away." ("No, sah, no, +he ain't; he b'en sent to de pen!") "I didn't say how come he moved, +Brudder Carroll; he are _gone_. Unc' Jim Hollis done 'bandon his crop. +Aunt Caledonia Ray lef' las' week 'count of injur'us reflections 'bout a +mince pie she done mix up by mistake wid de week's wash she taken fum de +big house. We done pled wid Sist' Humphreys to quit; but she won't quit. +Now de question am: How shill we git saved f'om Sist' Humphreys an' git +a preacher will preach religion--_an' nuffin else_?" + +Amid a deep hum of applause Brother Morrow sat down. Half a dozen voices +begged for attention; but the chair recognized Sister Susannah Belle +Coffin. Sister Susannah was of exceeding comeliness and a light-brown +complexion. If report spake truly, there was no one in Zion who had more +reason to dread a fearless and minute exposition of the demands of the +Seventh Commandment. She had started her career as a destroyer of +domestic peace with a capital of good looks, a gift for cookery, a voice +of silver, and two small unpremeditated children. "A single pussen like +me wid two chillen," would be her plaintive excuse for demanding the +good offices of the brothers in cutting wood or "palin' in her gyardin"; +and too often, under the spell of Susannah's eyes and Susannah's voice +and Susannah's cooking, the end of an innocent neighborly kindness was a +jealous wife and a "parting." Sometimes Susannah wedded the departing +husband, sometimes she flouted him; but steadily, single or wedded, +Susannah's little garden-plot grew more beautiful, Susannah's kitchen +range accumulated a more dazzling array of tin and copper, and +Susannah's best room was more splendidly bedecked with curtains, +pillow-shams, and a gilt mirror. + +At present speaking, the dark enchantress was the lawful wedded wife of +the young blacksmith, and the whole plantation had admired to see her +enter the holy estate in white Swiss muslin and a voluminous veil which +she utilized, later, as a window-curtain. She now inquired with much +pleasing modesty of mien: "I jes want to ask, Mist' Cheerman, how're +we-all to git Sist' Humphreys to go if she don' wanter?" + +Sighs, allied to groans, bore testimony that she had voiced the +forebodings of the audience. But a visiting brother who had the courage +of his non-residence, came to the front; he suggested that a letter be +sent to the sister, announcing the sense of the meeting, saying that the +congregation was not edified by her ministrations and that the +church-house would be closed until a new pastor had been selected. + +"De motion, as de cheer un'erstands it, are to dismiss Sist' Esmeraldy +Humphreys an' shet de do's on her," said the chairman. "Is--what is it, +Sist' Macklin?" + +He spoke kindly, and the woman whom he addressed seemed in need of +kindness, since she was trembling visibly. She was a little creature in +the pathetic compromise for mourning which poverty makes with grief--her +accustomed winter jacket of brown, but with a somber garnishment of +crape, black ribbons on her old gray hat, and a black border to her +handkerchief. + +The congregation looked at her, pityingly, as she began in the +high-pitched voice of the unaccustomed speaker: + +"Bruddah Morrow--I mean Bruddah Cheerman, I are right mortified Sist' +Humphreys done chastice you all; but I jest got to b'ar my testimony +you-all are mistaken 'bout her bein' crool. Oh, dear bruddahs an' +sistahs, she ain't! You-all knows my--my boy"--she choked over the word, +and the hearers waited in mute and awkward compassion, because her boy, +the last of her children, had been hanged at the little county-seat only +a month before for the murder of his wife--"my boy w'u'dn't repent; he +w'u'dn't do nuffin but cuss de woman dat fotch him dar an' den nebber so +much look at him. I spen' ever' las' cent I had on earth to try git him +off, an' I taken de jail wash, I did, to be nigh 'im an' mabbe git him a +bite like he's uster to eat; but he w'u'dn't paht lips wid me; sayd I +be'n a good mudder to him, but he didn't want to h'ar me beggin' an' +pleadin' wid 'im to repent an' make peace wid God. Oh, I did be'n in de +brack water, wadin' _deep_! Look laak I c'u'dn't enjure hit nohow. I +reckon I does nebber be able to see so well 'cause I cry so stiddy dem +days. An' all de cry of my po' ol' hairt be'n, 'O Lawd, I don' no mo' ax +you to save his life, but, O Lawd, _don'_ let 'im die cussin'! Fotch 'im +'ome! I kin b'ar hit to have 'im go, if he sho' goes whar he kin be good +an' be happy an' be safe; fo' I does know dat boy nev' did aim to be +mean.' An' w'en my hairt be'n broke wid longin' an' mis'ry, Sist' +Humphreys she come. She done holp me all fru; an' now she went to my +boy; he _hatter_ see her. I don' know w'at she say; but she come back to +me an' say, 'Praise God, dat po' sinnah hab foun' peace an' joy--an' he +want his mudder!' An' I did come. An' he putt his po' haid on my knees +jes lak w'en he be'n a li'le boy an' uster laff 'bout de big +kin'lin'-pile he allers keep fo' his mammy. An' Sist' Humphreys, some +way she git dem jailer-men be so kin' an' tender to 'im, lak I cayn't +noways tell. An' he did die happy. De Lawd sustain him, an' he sustain +me. Blessed be de name of de Lawd, an' blessed be dat 'oman dat is his +ministah!" + +She sank down in her seat and wept quietly, while the impressionable +African temperament sent forth pious ejaculations: "Holp, Lawd!" "Fotch +comfort!" "Bless de mo'nahs!" The schoolmistress was in tears, and the +stalwart young man near her openly wiped his eyes. Brother Moore bent +his brows; even Brother Morrow winked hard: but Sister Susannah's +emotion was most in evidence; she was sobbing violently into a +pink-embroidered handkerchief. Presently she rose to her feet. Now +Susannah was the woman who had lured the wretched murderer through a +brutal passion to a brutal crime, and the eyes of the congregation were +focused upon her. + +"Bruddahs, sistahs," said Susannah, in her wonderful voice, with its +chords of plaintive music, which made her hearers grin out of sheer +emotion, "I nev' did aim to do dat po' young man hurt; but he sayd +t'ings to me, t'ings"--she sighed and hung her head--"he hadn't orter +have sayd, him bein' a married man; an' I be'n right mad at him, an' I +own up I done him right onchristian an' onmussiful, for I didn't show no +sympathy or even go see 'm hanged. Now, I do repent. But it ain't nare +preachin' of Sist' Humphreys done give me a brokin an' a contrary hairt. +Her scorchin' don' make me mo'n. Hit cakes up my hairt. She nev' did +have one single revival. Rev. Bulkely of de Ridge he does have a mighty +big one ever' spring; you kin hear de screeches 'mos' a mile! He tol' me +hisse'f he w'u'd be willin' to minister a spell to dis sorely tried +flock, an', mo'-ovah, he tol' me dat we-all _c'u'dn't_ have Sist' +Humphreys nor no woman preach to us; for it be'n ag'in' de rule of de +Baptis' Chu'ch. Hit be'n forbid. We cayn't be Baptis' an' keep Sist' +Humphreys." + +With meek grace Susannah resumed her seat and the sheltering support of +the blacksmith's arm. She had won. Now that a way of escape was +opened,--a way, moreover, ending in a dazzling vista of a "big +revival,"--no sympathy for the Widow Macklin could induce Zion to face +the fiery chariots of the Seventh Commandment driven by Sister +Humphreys. + +In spite of the schoolmistress' eloquence and the stumbling speech of +two boys who tried to tell that Sister Humphreys had done a heap for +them, when the vote was put, only six of the forty-eight persons present +voted to retain the preacher. Brother Moore declined to vote. + +Susannah watched the downcast faces of Sister Humphreys' supporters +through her half-shut eyes and smiled her languid, mysterious smile. + +But of a sudden one of the two striplings who had spoken for Sister +Humphreys left his place by the window and ran to the door. + +With instant premonition of peril, the flock of Zion turned on the +benches. A deep intake of breath signified their dismay as there entered +a tall brown woman in widow's weeds. She cast a calm, full eye over the +faces under the lamplights--faces already stricken awry with fear; for, +notwithstanding their numbers and apparent strength of position, dread +of the pastor insisted, as light insists through closed eyelids. + +Sister Humphreys walked with no pause to the platform. Brother Morrow +was so short a man and she was so tall a woman that her handsome head +towered above his. She was a brown negro, but her lighter color and her +regular features and thinner, more sensitive lips were due to no +admixture of white blood; they came from a dash of the yellow races +mixed long before her time in the Old World, where her ancestors were +barbaric princes. She stood with the incomparable grace that is given +sometimes to the bearer of burdens, tall, erect, shapely. She spoke in a +mellow rich voice not raised a note above its speaking tone. + +"Is this heah a meetin'?" gently interrogated Sister Humphreys of +Brother Morrow, "or have you-all done aju'ned?" + +"We done aju'ned, sistah," Brother Morrow replied quickly, flinching +from a possible trap. + +"In that case," Sister Humphreys argued at once, "will you kindly take +you' seat an' let me speak fo' de las' time to Zion Baptis' Chu'ch?" + +It was impossible to refuse a hearing. Brother Morrow shuffled into a +lower seat. + +"My people,"--a vague, incomprehensible thrill of apprehension and +magnetic fascination stirred the attentive faces, all save the widow +Macklin's; hers was bent on her own withered, toil-crooked hands while +she prayed,--"I want to say, first, that I nev' did aim to keep _on_ +hu'tin' you' feelin's. But I am 'bleeged to save you' souls. You-all +know how my po' husban' toiled an' prayed. Thar's ol' people who loved +him an' followed his teachin's, but they went to their reward, an' he +was lef' with a generation of young niggers who feared neither God nor +man nor the grand jury--lying, stealing, with no more morals than pigs +an' no great cleaner. It broken my po' ol' man's heart, so he hadn't no +strength to stand the breast complaint, so he died. The last night I +heard him praying for you, an' I come to him. When he looked up at me I +knowed I couldn't hold him; I knowed he ain't never again goin' look up +at me with the light in his eyes an' the love in his smile like he +looked then. An' I sayd to him, 'Silas, honey, don' you worry 'bout that +there wuthless flock of yours. _I'll_ save 'em. I know the way. I sho' +do!' An' he believed me; because of his believing me his end was peace. +So you see, my people, I am 'bleeged to save you. I tol' him I know the +way; I do know it. You' pastor, who is a saint in heaven, done used +always the ways of gentleness. He preached the love of God, an' you +swallered it down, smiling and happy; an' it ain't done you-all no mo' +good than stick candy does do a person that done taken poison an' needs +wahm water an' mustard. What you-all needed didn't be'n loving kindness, +but the terrors of the law, an' not _strained_, neider. An' if it takes +the las' day of my pilgrimage, you'll git 'em till you _begin_ to repent +an' show works _meet_ for repentence. But when you _begin_ to repent, +the word of mercy will come. 'Cause when the prodigal son be'n a _long +way off_, his father come a-runnin' to him. Now, hark to me: I went this +evening to the cunnel. He explained to me about the Baptis' +dis-_cip_-line." (A ripple of excitement in the audience.) "In +consequence, this chu'ch will hereayfter be the _Methodis'_ Zion Chu'ch. +That is why I am speaking fo' the las' time to Zion _Baptis'_ Chu'ch. +Ayfter to-night there won't be no Zion Baptis' Chu'ch. There ain't no +great differ_ence_ in doctrine, an' the dis-_cip_-line is more +convenient. Any brother or sister desiring it, an' not in danger of +catching col', can be immersed. The cunnel an' I done talked this over; +an' he done rented this chu'ch-house to _me_. If the congregation ain't +satisfied, they got to take to the woods. I also got one word mo' to +say: it is that the work of grace in this community is a right smart +hampered by the evil doings of Sister Susannah Coffin." + +Susannah and her husband were both on their feet, both ready to speak; +but something in the attitude of the figure on the platform to which the +long lines of the mourning-veil gave a strange suggestion of sibylline +dignity, held speech away from them. Solemnly and not with any anger, +Sister Humphreys' eyes searched the eyes of the man and woman before +her, while the spectators held their breath. "Wherefo' it is bettah +ever' way," she said slowly, "that both her an' her husband go out from +us fo'evermo'. Bruddah Coffin, the cunnel has got another blacksmith, +an' you ain't got no mo' reason fo' stayin' on longer. And as fo' you, +_Sister_--" + +"I won't go!" shrilled Susannah, hysterically weeping; it was with no +pretense now. "You cayn't fo'ce me!" + +"You _will_ go, _Sister_, fo' you don' wanter lose the young man you got +now. You will go; an' you will take him along of you; an' you will go +_so far_ he cayn't heah no word of my sermons. Go in peace." + +Susannah faced about, writhing between fear and rage. "You cowards! you +ornery, pusillanimous cowards!" she flung back at the gaping black +faces. "You putt on dog when she ain't heah, but minute she lif's her +han', you cayn't make a riffle! Ba-h-h! S-sh!" she hissed at them like a +cat or a snake. "Come on, you fool nigger!" she jeered, pulling at her +bewildered husband's collar; and in this sorry fashion, but still with +her head high, she left Zion for ever. + +"An' now," concluded Sister Esmeralda Humphreys sedately, "let us all +try fo' to lead a bettah life. I shall preach nex' Sunday on the +_Seventh_ Commandment, an' all them that feels they have broke that +commandment is at free liberty to stay away. I shall expec' to see all +the res' of you, even if 'tis fallin' weader. Let us all sing befo' we +go: + + "'Blest be the tie that binds + Our hearts in Christian love; + The fellowship of kindred minds + Is like to that above.'" + +Brother Moore arose. "Sist' Humphreys," he announced, "you got de right +kin' o' gospil light in you. I cayn't jine in the singin' 'cause since I +got my store teef I ain't be'n able to cyar' a chune; but I want to do +sumfin de wuk er grace; an' I got up to say dat de nex' socherble +gatherin' I'll donate de lemons." + +"Dis meetin' accep's with t'anks," shouted Brother Morrow. "Now, le's +show our beloved pastor the clouds is swep' away! _All_ sing!" + +And never had so noble a burst of melody wakened the echoes along the +moonlit road as that which made the colonel outside turn, smiling, in +his saddle. + +"She didn't need me," he mused. "Well, so much the better. I reckon they +need a good despot, and they've got one, all right." + + + + +THE REAL THING + + +The club had gone, save only the guest of the afternoon and a few +friends of the hostess, who lingered to congratulate her. It had been a +most successful meeting. The guest who had spoken was the president of a +southern club. The hearers were warm in their praises of the leisurely +music of her southern voice, the charm of her southern manner, so simple +and direct and sympathetic, her beauty, her grace, even of the finish of +her toilet. She had handled a weighty subject with a light touch (it was +the child labor of the south), and her husband being a very large +manufacturer, she had spoken out of experience as well as theory. +Moreover, she had shown a luminous common sense and a tolerant humor +such as did not always brighten such serious themes; and not only the +earnest students of the club, but the more flippant members, were +aroused to an unusual and captivated attention. Now they were loath to +let her go; pressing about, tarrying amid the teacups, and only +reluctantly faring forth as the maids appeared to remove the wreckage +of the feast. The hostess sank, weary but elated, into a chair by Miss +Clymer, the secretary, as the last silken skirt rustled away. Mrs. +Waite, the president, who was dallying with socialism, had evidently +introduced her new pet to the visitor, who listened politely. + +"After all," suggested Mrs. Clymer, more from the amiable design of +steering the conversation within safe limits than out of any craving to +exploit her own views, "after all, do we really know _how_ these people +feel? Is there one of us, for example, who ever had an intimate friend +among them, a woman who worked with her hands?" + +"Madelaide Dunbar told me once," remarked the youngest club member, +"that she was fonder of her maid than of most of her friends." + +"Which maid?" inquired another. "The one who took her pearl necklace?" + +"Nobody took those pearls; Madelaide hid them herself, and forgot all +about it, and then found them in her soiled-handkerchief bag! But it +wasn't that one. This one had a little wave to her nose and her eyes +were near together." + +"Is she with Madelaide now?" + +"I think she married. Madelaide was buying teaspoons the other day, and +asking for rather light weight--maybe they were for her wedding +present." + +The South Carolinian smothered a smile. "Madelaide doesn't exactly +count," said the hostess. + +A new voice took up the theme, a sweet, rather diffident voice, to +which, nevertheless, the circle listened with an attention that was +almost distinction. She who spoke had been born in the little +mid-Western city, and there she had spent her early youth, but she had +married a rich man of the East, and was only a visitor to-day. The +Ridgelys were people of importance; and Constance Ridgely, the only +child, who never went to parties with boys, and only paid visits with +her mother, and finally disappeared into vistas of fashion and intimacy +with the peerage, was a person of mark. The more, that no splendid +transformation had altered her affection for the town, or her gentle, +almost shy modesty of manner. She flushed slightly now as she spoke. +"The best, the dearest girl friend I ever had, used to work with her +hands," said she. + +The sudden silence was almost the dumbness of dismay; but the hostess +sprang nimbly to the rescue with a murmur of "How picturesque!" + +"Why, of course," cried Mrs. Clymer. "I wish you would tell us of it. +You mean Nannie, don't you?" + +The Southerner leaned slightly forward, with a look of interest. + +"It is so long ago," said Mrs. Curtis, who had been Constance Ridgely, +"but something has made me think of Nannie all the afternoon. My +friendship with Nannie began almost thirty years ago, when Miss Arthur +kept the Pleasant Street kindergarten next to No. 3. The school was a +dear; but I remember so well the odd mixture of admiration and dread I +felt for the big, tumultuous public school. The boys used to make faces +at us, but they were so daring and they turned somersaults so nimbly! +And I was devoured with curiosity regarding the little girls who came to +school without their nurses. I thought it must be grand! One little girl +I singled out. She used to wear a red jersey and a red tam-o'-shanter. +She wasn't precisely pretty--according to my childish, wax-dolly +standard of beauty--but there was something fascinating in the way her +silky mop of brown hair flung itself to the wind, in the flash of her +brown eyes and her white teeth and the feather-down lightness of her +motions. She was as reckless of her frock as her bones--I was trained to +be very careful of both. The fearless rush with which she would slide +down the high bank or skin up a tree to the very awful, oscillating +top--I can't describe the awesome joy of seeing her! And she was so gay; +she had the sweetest, merriest laugh in the world. I loved it. Ah, how +many times did I glue my demure little face, which hid so many wild +fancies, to a certain knot-hole in that high, high fence of Miss +Arthur's, which all our mothers praised because it protected our +privacy, watching the boys and girls, and _my_ girl run out to recess! +And, oh, the blow it was when the hour of recess at the kindergarten was +changed! Because the No. 3 boys stole Bennie Olmstead's roller skates, +and there was a combat, in which our injured and innocent boys were no +match for the wicked No. 3's; and Miss Betty, who attended to minor +matters of our physical comfort, being only the third kindergartner, who +was learning and received no salary, and of course had most of the +drudgery, washed at least four bloody noses and one bitten ear, and put +butchers' brown paper on half a dozen bruises, while the little girls +wept for sympathy and Bennie howled for his skates! I wept, too; but it +was because I could never any more look through the knot-hole for +Nannie. I knew her name, because I heard it so often. And then, in the +midst of my dejection, I met her. It was by accident. Tina had come for +me in the carriage, but Harland, having an errand at the harness shop, +had sent her on ahead, and we two were waiting for him on the +curb-stone. Of a sudden we heard an appalling outcry of canine yelps and +boyish yells, and I saw a sickening sight, a wretched little dog with a +tin can tied to his tail, which clattered against the bricks of the +sidewalk as he bounded; and in the can a huge fire-cracker spitting +fire! For sheer terror lest I should see the catastrophe, I covered up +my face. And _then_ I heard my Nannie's voice, 'Here, doggie! Here, poor +doggie!' I let my little coward hands drop. I saw her welcome the +terrified beast to the shelter of her skirts, while with one swift curve +she plucked out the hissing red stick and hurled it with admirable +certainty of aim straight at the pursuers. As they scampered away, she +told them what she thought of them. Before they could rally, Harland +came to the rescue with the carriage; and Tina pushed both of us into +it. It was one of those double phaetons which we all used to have then. +I don't know whether Tina's mercy would have included the dog; but he +included himself with a flying leap into Nannie's lap." + +"And that was how you met Nancy?" said Mrs. Clymer. "You took her home, +didn't you, and found her conversation on the way very entertaining?" + +"Entrancing. She was full of thrilling knowledge of the world. She went +to school all alone. Her father was a carpenter, and she had a hatchet +and a plane and a brace and bit all her very own. Her mother was dead, +but she lived with her aunty, and she invited us most politely to get +out and see her aunty, and her papa's shop in the back yard. 'We got a +lovely home,' said Nannie." + +"Was it?" laughed the youngest clubwoman. + +"I thought it was; and, yes, I think it was, now. So specklessly, +radiantly tidy. A tiny house of wood, but painted freshly in gray and +white, and with a most wonderful garden. That belonged to Nannie's aunt. +Nannie said she could make anything with a root grow. I remember she was +out amid the phlox--such brilliant, luxuriant phlox as it was! She had +on a white apron, which the sun made dazzling. By a wonderful +coincidence, the aunt went to Tina's church, and Tina knew her; so Tina +let me go inside the house, and the aunt gave us coffee hot from the +stove, and delicious little spice cakes just out of the oven; and we +carried out some to Harland; and it was a full half-hour before Tina's +conscience stirred, and we had to go. By that time Nannie and I were +very well acquainted. Yet I had always been amazingly slow about making +friends. + +"After this episode Nannie and I always nodded and grinned when we saw +each other, going or coming from school. The next month Nannie appeared +at our Sunday school and announced that she would always attend there if +she might be in Miss Browning's class. Miss Browning taught my class. +Fancy my happiness! It impressed me very much the way Nannie could make +people do what she wanted. In summer another wonder happened. Nannie's +father built our new stable. Nannie used to bring him his luncheon +daily. Before the summer ended we were great chums." + +"But did your mother approve of your intimacy?" asked Mrs. Waite, who +was bewildered by conduct so opposed to her recollections of the +Ridgelys. + +"My mother was a wise woman. One day she sent me away on some pretext, +and she asked Nannie into the house and showed her pictures and talked +to her. Nannie adored my mother; and mamma never threw any obstacles in +the way of my seeing Nannie, while Tina was always willing to take me to +the Marshes; of course I never went alone. Tina thought Nannie one of +the nicest little girls in town; and she had sense enough to see that +while I was most often listless and shy with other girls, I was always +happy with Nannie. I don't think I can quite express her charm. She was +clever, but clever people have bored me. She was pretty, too; and she +was a true, delicate-minded little gentlewoman, though her father was a +mechanic and her aunt helped the family income by taking in fine +washing; but it was none of those things. I think it was that she was so +_wholesome_! Always cheerful. Always fearless. By consequence she was +the most absolutely truthful being I ever knew. Aunt Kate"--to Mrs. +Clymer--"you heard about the red paint? Shall I tell them?" At Mrs. +Clymer's assent she continued, "It was a truly terrible experience. I +was never so scared in my life; and I was always getting scared when I +was little. Nannie's next-door neighbor was a little girl named Elsa +Clarke, whose father was a painter by trade. He was an easy-tempered +man, and sometimes used to let us paint. If we daubed ourselves (which +we seldom failed to do), he would scrub us off with turpentine. I had +some painful scenes with Tina; for even if the paint was gone, the scent +of roses, you know. She was going to put a ban on the whole business, +when Nannie contrived some oilcloth aprons out of a discarded table +covering. This appeased her. One day Elsa's father gave us the dregs of +a can of red paint. Another painter who was doing some work in the shop +glowered at him, and from him to a white window sash that he had just +finished. He was a very gruff old fellow, of whom I stood in dreadful +fear. I thought he was very much such a looking man as the ogre in 'Jack +and the Beanstalk.' 'Them kids will mess up something if you give 'em +paint, you'll see,' the ogre growled, 'but they better keep clear of +_my_ sash, if they know what's good for 'em!' With that he followed +Elsa's father out of the shop. We were left with our artistic fury. I +don't know exactly how the calamity came about, but Elsa wanted the +paint can which Nannie was using. If Elsa wanted anything and didn't get +it, she grew angry. It was her papa's shop and her papa's paint and she +had a right to have it, she _would_ have it! 'But he gave it to us all,' +I protested, rather shocked at the squabble. Nannie didn't say anything; +she went on slapping the paint on a box in vast content. Then Elsa flew +into a rage and laid hold of Nannie. I laid hold of her. And a dog in +the household, hearing our loud voices, bounded joyously into the fray. +And somehow Nannie tripped! The paint, the red, red paint made a ghastly +cascade over the snowy whiteness of the ogre's window frame. Stupefied +by the enormity of our mishap, we stood staring miserably at each other. +Elsa burst into tears. As for me, I could hear my heart thump. + +"'He's coming back,' gasped Elsa, 'and papa ain't with him. I saw him +box a little girl's ears once jest for using his brush--let's run! Let's +_run_! He'll think it was Jumper!' (Jumper was wagging his tail and +affectionately sympathizing.) + +"'Jumper didn't do it,' said Nannie. + +"But Elsa was sprinting across the yard. My own terror seemed to clutch +me and propel me without volition; I was outside and hurrying after Elsa +before I realized. But at the sound of a dreadful, menacing voice I +turned my head. Nannie had not fled. She was facing the brutal man who +had boxed a little girl's ears; and he was demanding who had done +_That_! The rumble of thunder was in his deep tones. I ran back; but I +was in such a panic I had to hold on to the bench to keep me on my feet. +Elsa, from the fortress of her kitchen, screamed that Jumper had done +it. + +"'Hay?' exploded the man. It seemed to me an appalling interjection. + +"'Jumper didn't do it,' said Nannie. 'I fell and the paint splashed. +I'll paint it over for you, all right.' + +"'_You!_' the ogre bellowed, lifting his fist in a passion. 'You've done +enough mischief!' I had been trying to speak, but I was so scared that +my mouth only made little choking sounds, but now I did sob, 'Please, +mister, we _made_ her do it, Elsa and I. Elsa caught her arm and I +caught Elsa's arm--I'll _pay_ you for it!' I had my little purse out in +my trembling fingers and would have given it all to him. Not Nannie. 'It +can't take you an hour to paint it over,' said she. 'Will you take +twenty-five cents--that's an hour's wages--and let _me_ paint it? I'm +awful sorry it happened.' + +"'I've a mind to lick you both,' grumbled the man. + +"But Nannie didn't flinch; she looked into his face, repeating, 'We're +awful sorry; and we'll pay you. It wouldn't do any good to spank us; and +I'll paint something else first, to show you I won't daub the glass.' + +"'Well, you _are_ a cool one,' said the man. I could hardly believe my +eyes; he was grinning. Actually he did let Nannie show him how neatly +she painted; and the end of it was, he taught us a great deal about +painting." + +"Didn't Nannie think you were plucky to run back?" said the Southerner. +"Truly, Mrs. Curtis, I think you were braver than she!" + +Mrs. Curtis shook her head. "I couldn't have done it but for Nannie. +Merely being in her presence stiffened my limp courage. I was absurdly +timid." + +"Well, I don't wonder you were fond of her," cried the youngest member. +"What were her people like?" + +"Her mother was dead and she was an only child. Her father was the +kindest, gentlest of men, with a placid shrewdness such as one may draw +from life rather than books. He loved beautiful things. Why, he taught +me more about the loveliness of shadows and trees than the great +artists, since. And I recognize now how fine was his passion for what he +called in his homely way 'a job good enough not to need putty.'" + +"I remember Marsh well," said Mrs. Clymer. "He _was_ a wonderful workman +and a particularly considerate person to have about. He always cleaned +up his shavings. I never saw the aunt. She was a nice sort, too, wasn't +she, Connie?" + +"Indeed she was! She was a widow with three children. The youngest, as +Nannie told me with somber importance, was 'bedrid'; she hadn't walked +for three years, and the doctor said she 'never would walk in this +world'; but Mr. Marsh had made her a most ingenious wheeled chair, which +was always at the window, with her little pale, smiling face above it. +Then there was little Ned, who was four, and Oscar, who was working his +way through college. They all spoke of Oscar with deep respect. He was +awfully clever, I was sure; and his mother had a handsome photograph of +him on the mantel, under his father's picture." + +"That was Jedidiah Marsh," explained Mrs. Waite. "I remember him. He was +a very handsome man and a plumber. He wasn't very much of a plumber as I +recall him; but he was an inventor always going to patent something, +which always turned out to have been discovered before. Finally he did +put some machine on the market, and died leaving the business in a +tangle, and lots of debts, which his widow and Caleb Marsh paid off to +the last cent of interest, although it took them years to do it." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Clymer; "he told Mr. Clymer once that maybe he wasn't +legally liable for Jed's debts, but there never was a Marsh yet that +anybody could find fault with for doing anything dishonest; and they +shouldn't begin with Jed, who was all right, whether his washing machine +was or wasn't. I have a sneaking idea myself that Caleb Marsh, who was +shrewd in his simple way, did not take Jed's wonderful genius seriously; +but Jed's wife did. Once I carried Nannie home when she had been to see +you, Connie; and I remember their neat little parlor, with the pictures +of Lincoln and Grant and the Rogers groups and some really fine, simple +furniture which Marsh had made himself. But I remember best the two +portraits over the mantel--a pretty girl I should have known was +Nannie's mother, only an enlarged photograph, but very well done, and an +oil portrait of Jedidiah, which had been done from a photograph by the +gifted daughter of a neighbor, who was learning to paint. It was pretty +awful. I wonder didn't Caleb Marsh think so, too." + +"If he did, he never said so, you may be sure," said Mrs. Curtis +quickly; "and somehow I have a kind of affection for that picture, too. +There were always flowers before both of the portraits; perhaps in +winter no more than some sprigs of lemon verbena or a pot of ivy, but +always some green thing. Do you know, the pictures, and the flowers +always before them, that little touch of faithful love, added an +intangible and plaintive charm to the homely attraction of the house. I +did love that room. It was so sunny, so spotless and peaceful, with the +geraniums and the heliotrope in the window, and the white muslin +curtains. There was a rug with a very bright and fierce-looking tiger on +it before the fireplace (Mr. Marsh _would_ have a fireplace), and Mr. +Marsh's grandmother's andirons glittered behind the big peacock fan in +summer time; and there used to float in through the window the lovely +faint odors of old-fashioned flowers--spice pinks and sweetbrier roses +and lemon verbenas." + +Mrs. Clymer sighed. "I wish there were a better ending to the story." + +"Does it end sadly?" asked the Southerner. "Did the little girls grow up +and forget each other?" + +Mrs. Curtis, who was looking absently over the lawn and the flowers, +down the shady street, on which longer and warmer shadows were creeping, +back perhaps in a reverie of her childhood, started a little; the +sensitive blush which years in the world had not given her power to +control, mantled her fair cheek; she turned and gave the Southerner's +light smile a serious, almost solemn gaze. When she spoke it was with a +gentle coldness, as if she felt she had been too frank with +strangers--at least so the hostess interpreted it. + +"_I_ didn't forget; and we were not separated for several years. I went +to the high school with Nannie; it was really I who went, for my +entreaties overcame my mother's aversion to the clamorous life of a +public school. We were so happy; and when I had the trouble with my +eyes, Nannie used to read my lessons to me. She learned a whole +different course so she could help me. You see, she was awfully clever. +The more I knew of other girls, the finer Nannie seemed to me. The--the +difference between the classes, the real thing which keeps them apart, +is their lack of a common ground of experience. They haven't anything to +talk about. I should have been as shy with another girl who worked for +her living as she would have been with me, but I knew Nannie so well--I +never knew any other woman friend so well, and only one man." + +"Whom you married?" said the Southerner with an apologetic accent. + +"Yes, poor dear," laughed Mrs. Curtis. "It wasn't treating him well, +perhaps, but he brought it on himself." + +"Did you go through the high school with your friend?" Mrs. Waite's deep +voice was heard again. "But no, surely you weren't a graduate?" + +"No; we went to Europe in my second year. I cried myself ill when we +parted. My only comfort was that Nannie and I had promised each other +that we would go to college together. Nannie was already earning money +by her carving. Still--it was bitter. Youth can suffer so easily and so +horribly!" + +"Yet," said Mrs. Clymer, "though I admit you were a woeful object, +Connie, I thought at the time, and I think now, that Nannie suffered the +most. She didn't shed a tear that morning when she came up to your house +to say good-by; and I went with you to the depot; but there was a look +in her eyes which haunted me. And when she stood in the driveway as we +rolled away, watching the carriage, and you turned and she waved her +hand and smiled--I felt as if I had seen a surgical operation." + +"And then? Oh, Mrs. Curtis, that wasn't the end of it?" cried the +youngest member. + +"Oh, no. I missed Nannie amid all the change and excitement; and I wrote +her often. At first she wrote me as often. Now I can appreciate how +hard she must have tried to collect the little items of news likely to +interest me. And they were all about girls whom she barely knew, and +things remote from her. Somehow she found out about everything. It was +she who first wrote about when Annie Baylor had scarlet fever, and she +who told first of that astounding happening, Mary Taine Willis' +engagement. Mary was only three years older than we; it was almost like +one of us being engaged. And her reports about the house and the grounds +and the horses, my father said, were clearer and more useful than those +of the man in charge. But somehow during the last year the letters grew +a little less open-hearted and affectionate; a queer film of constraint +froze over them, if I may call it that. And on my part I was conscious +of a mingling of dread in my delight at the prospect of seeing Nannie +when we had come. I knew she would be the same faithful, dear girl whom +I should always love; but my Nannie was more--she was the leader, she +had charm; I admired her so tremendously, I wondered should I admire her +in the same way. Maybe you think that was horrid of me?" + +"I don't know"--the Southern woman spoke before the others--"I know it +was natural. Well, did you find it different? _Had_ she changed?" + +"I don't remember; I only remember that, in the first half-hour, my only +fear was lest she should be disappointed in _me_. I admired everything +about her; her very clothes were so dainty; and I had expected to be +superior there, I fancy. But it wasn't that; it was my feeling that she +was finer and stronger than my other friends. You know the pretty +clothes, the pretty manners, are only signs of the real thing; and +Nannie had the real thing, I was sure. But there was always that +constraint about her. You would not believe," said Mrs. Curtis gently to +the Southerner, "you would not believe how absurdly this intangible +reserve of hers hurt me." + +"I think it was very nasty of her, myself," laughed the Southerner; "but +did it never occur to you that some other friend of yours might have +been making mischief? You were a very desirable chum, some one might +have filled your friend's head with notions of how different were your +classes and walks in life; and how you were too loyal and kind hearted +to desert or repel an old friend, but you might find such ties a drag on +you. If that happened she would be a little morbid about making +advances. She was probably proud in her own way." + +"There was Elsa Clarke," Mrs. Clymer suggested; "she was always trying +to be intimate with you; and if ever there was a sly little climber, it +was she." + +"Wait a minute!" exclaimed the hostess. "I am beginning to reminisce, +myself. Wasn't there a boy in the Marsh family, Nannie Marsh's brother +or cousin? Yes, her cousin, Oscar. Why, to be sure. He came back from +college and was a clerk in Norris Blanchard's store, and fell madly in +love with Gladys Blanchard. She treated him abominably, they did say. +Led him on, and then married that young man from Massachusetts; and +Oscar shot himself in the front yard while they were standing up under +the floral bell." + +"How ghastly," murmured the youngest member, "to kill himself--" + +"Oh, it didn't kill him, though they thought he would die. I don't know +but his uncle wondered sometimes if it wouldn't have been better. For +after he got up he took to drink and notions--wild, anarchistic, +socialistic--" + +"He couldn't take to them both at the same time," Mrs. Waite interrupted +with fervor. "They are absolutely antagonistic, socialism--" + +"Yes, yes, to be sure"--the hostess hastily turned a conversational +switch before the collision--"of course I didn't mean to say he believed +in _both_, only that he took to making fierce speeches at the populist +meetings, and wrote articles for the papers, girding at the rich. And he +used to get drunk. The poor Marshes felt awfully. I shouldn't be a bit +surprised if that was what made Nannie a little shy and stiff. Did she +tell you about Oscar's tragedy?" + +"Not until I found it out myself. I somehow had the feeling that I +wasn't so gladly welcomed as I used to be. And Mrs. Marsh was changed +and saddened. But the little chair was no longer by the window; and I +knew the mother grieved. Dear little Hattie, always so patient and so +pleased with every little thing. One day Nannie was walking home with +me, and we met Oscar. After that I knew. I will own up, when I saw his +condition, I--I told you I was a coward--I simply turned and ran away. +To be sure, Nannie had seen him also, and said suddenly, 'Good-by, +Connie; I can't go any farther'; but that is only a mitigation, not an +excuse. I was so ashamed of myself I hardly slept all night. Nannie was +coming to see me the next afternoon. I was awfully afraid she wouldn't +come, and almost as afraid to see her when she did come. And when she +began to talk, I couldn't think of anything better than to kiss her, +with my eyes shut--as if I were going to have a tooth pulled! We both +cried. It gave me a weird, earthquaky sensation to see Nannie cry. I had +never, through all our years of intimacy, seen her cry. But almost +immediately she pulled herself together, and said, 'Well, I'm not going +to stand it. Daddy has found a place in the country where Oscar can go +and learn the business and then be a partner. If he has a little +property of his own he will stop wanting to overturn things so bad. +So--he's going; and he did seem to feel bad about making aunty so +wretched; and he's promised to give up drinking _and_ talking; so I +don't know what I'm crying about, unless it is having to give up going +to college with you! But it's only putting it off for a year. I'll make +it all back by then; I'm going into the furniture factory this summer.' +But when I saw the family I realized for the first time what this +education, which we take so lightly, indeed often with weariness, means +to those who have to deny themselves for it. The love of it was a +passion with Nannie's people. They seemed to think a college was a +wonderful place, where one learned all the secrets of life and art and +knowledge. When they spoke of it their voices would drop reverentially, +as they dropped when they spoke of heaven. To have this glory for Nannie +put off another year seemed cruel to them. 'Well,' I suggested to Mr. +Marsh, 'at least it will be I who will have to miss her, and not you.' +'It's wicked to take such comfort,' said he, 'but I guess I can't help +taking it a mite. Nannie is so very comforting and pleasant to have +around.'" + +"He certainly was a nice man," said Mrs. Clymer. "Do you remember him +beaming at Nannie's graduation? I thought I should be bored, but I +wasn't; and you, my dear, were a little drama of delight by yourself, so +scared when she began, and so radiant presently; and darting such +furious glances at Elsa Clarke." + +"Well," retorted Mrs. Curtis, "wasn't she whispering all through the +essay to a boy she had with her! But she was on the stage afterward, +before any of us, and she had sent Nannie a most impressive and +expensive bouquet; and she was hugging her and making joyful noise over +her when my father and I came up. Father paid her the prettiest of +compliments and called her Miss Nannie. Her own father and her aunt and +Ned stood by, with Oscar, who had come in from the country for this +important occasion. Mr. Marsh did not say a word. But I never knew +before how many different kinds of smiles a man could smile. And +somehow, after that evening, although Nannie was so little affected by +the glamour of it all, I was provoked with her; somehow, she was more +like her old gay self with me. Why do you suppose, Mrs. Atherton?" + +"I suppose," ventured the Southerner, smiling, "because she felt that +her little triumph (no doubt she overvalued it, in spite of the level +head you give her); she felt it made her a little better worth your +friendship. But--what happened next? You went to college?" + +"Yes, I went; and we had to have that odious little Elsa with us, +because she was going, too. I was most dolefully homesick; and oh, how I +missed Nannie! I wrote her, if I weren't so afraid of the ferocious +cabmen who roared so at one, I should run away, and it was all her +fault--" + +"Your father did want--" Mrs. Curtis cut Mrs. Clymer's sentence off with +a quick "Ah, they wouldn't accept; they were quite as proud as we. +However, the time dragged itself away, and I went home for the Christmas +holidays. I found Nannie in very different circumstances, but quite as +cheerful. She was working in the factory, and earning good wages, and +she had all sorts of racy experiences with human nature to relate. How +the whole family hung on my college stories! And Oscar was doing well, +and becoming cheerful, and they could all talk proudly about him again! +They comforted me as much as my own people, and I went back with a show +of courage. Nannie wrote me every week. I don't know just when I began +to feel a change in the letters, not in their affection or their gaiety; +but she no longer told me so much about her studies (for she wanted to +keep up with me and enter in the second year); after a while she hardly +mentioned them; yet she _had_ shown the keenest interest. My people came +on east for me that summer, and as we made several visits, it was late +in the summer when we came home. Although I had noticed this change in +Nannie's letters, I had not dreamed what it really meant; and I was not +prepared for the shock I received. She greeted me with all her old +affection; but at my first inquiry about her savings, she answered, +'Yes, I have enough--if I go.' 'If!' I cried. 'Don't be talking of +if's!' 'Indeed, I ought not,' she answered very gravely, 'for there is +no if about it; I know that I oughtn't to go. It isn't fair to the +others.' 'But they want you to go!' I pleaded in inexpressible dismay. +'It will be the awfulest disappointment!' It seems to me that I still +remember every word of her reply. She said that she knew it, that her +education had been the whole family's day dream. But that, in the first +place, it would be harder than they would admit for them to have her go. +'If it were only this it would be hard,' she said, 'but we could bear +it; but--it isn't. What they couldn't bear would be to--to have me grow +away from them. I _couldn't_, truly; but--you know Elsa is at home now. +She talks of nothing but her college, her college friends, her high +marks at exams, her basketball team, and all that. She is always +complaining of her own people's plain ways. Connie, I can see so plainly +that when she has finished the education which her parents are pinching +themselves to give her she will use it to establish herself as far as +possible from them.' + +"'Oh, Elsa?' I sniffed. 'I can believe anything of Elsa. _You_ couldn't +be so horrid and snobbish!' + +"'She doesn't mean to be horrid, or know she is; she speaks of her +mother with tears in her eyes. It is only that she has gone into another +world from them, and wants to stay there. I don't want to go into any +other world than my father's and the others'. I don't want any better +taste than they have! I want better taste and I want them to have it, +but I want us all to get it together. Whatever I get I want to share +with them. I couldn't if I went away. I used to think I could bring it +all back in a lump; but I know better now. You can't pot culture and +give it away as you choose; you have to grow it from the seed. What I am +afraid of is that they should not get what I get. So far they have; why, +aunty knows more of Virgil from hearing me translate aloud than I do +myself; and dad is wonderful in geometry, and he has taught _me_ to love +Charles Lamb, whom he loved just from the extracts in the literature. +First he bought the Essays, then I bought him the Letters. It is that +way with so many things. You know'--she laughed--'you know we have some +long-legged Fra Angelico angels instead of the pictures of Lincoln and +Grant; they are in other frames, which my father made, and hang in the +hall; and the Rogers groups have gone up-stairs, and, Connie, Oscar and +dad and I have had a real artist paint a pastel of Uncle Jed as a +present for aunty, and we have it in the parlor now; and nobody's +feelings are hurt; we were all pleased together. That is the right way. +I can't take any other way. Not even to be with you, Connie. No, dear, I +can't go.' I am afraid I made it harder for her with my selfish grief, +and her father almost frantically opposed the sacrifice, he who was +always so tranquil; and Oscar was angry, and Ned cried. Oh, we gave poor +Nannie a frightful quarter of an hour; but she did not go." + +"What became of her? How did it turn out in the end?" asked the youngest +member. + +"I don't know," answered Mrs. Curtis. + +"Did her conduct make a breach between you?" Mrs. Waite showed the dawn +of disapproval on her brow. + +"Surely not. But in my next year we went abroad unexpectedly, on +account of my mother's health. We stayed four years; and while we were +away, my grandfather died, and the house here was sold. At first we both +wrote often; but, as the years went by, insensibly we wrote less often. +Both of us, I suppose. That same film of constraint was over Nannie's +letters that had been over her manner before. Then it went away. This +time it came, and did not go away. Then the letters ceased altogether. +When I--when I found I was going to marry Mr. Curtis, I wrote Nannie the +very first letter. There was no answer. I wrote again--not once, but +many times. After a long while my letters came back to me, unopened, +with the post-office inscription, 'Not to be found.' I wrote to Elsa, +who was home. I asked her for Nannie's address; for some word about her. +She wrote back that the Marshes had sold their house after Oscar's +trouble, to raise money for his defense; and they had all moved away, +she believed, to Dakota, but she didn't know where. She said Nannie +avoided everybody." + +"And what _was_ Oscar's trouble?" demanded Mrs. Waite. "I know there was +some iniquitous blunder of the law, but what exactly was it?" + +Mrs. Clymer, who had been watching Mrs. Curtis attentively, explained +while the other woman seemed searching for the right words. "Oscar was +convicted of burning the store of a rival merchant who had treated him +very treacherously. He had lost his temper, and threatened the man. What +he meant, he explained, was to give him a good hiding. But he was +overheard; and when, that night, the store burned, and Oscar was +discovered to have gone there, suspicion lighted on him. Of course, all +his former wild actions were brought up against him, although he had +quite reformed. There had been a number of incendiary fires, and you +know how people always want _somebody_ punished; poor Oscar Marsh was +sent to the penitentiary, after his people had spent almost their last +dollar to defend him. They moved away, and all trace of them was lost. +It is a wretched story. And really, Oscar was innocent. A year afterward +(I always credited it mostly to Nannie) it was discovered that the man +had set fire to the store himself. Nannie got the insurance company on +his trail. He fled. The governor pardoned Oscar. And that is all any of +us know." + +"It is a sad story," sighed Mrs. Waite. "I think she did wrong not to +educate herself." + +"I think she did quite right," said Mrs. Curtis. + +"But as it was, the sacrifice was so useless," urged the youngest +member. "She didn't lift them; they only all went under the waves +together." + +"Not necessarily," objected the Southerner. "Why be so dismal? Why not +be cheerful? They had their good trade and their good sense and their +love for each other. I am going to suppose that those things are more +than money, and that they went to work in a new place, rose little by +little, and then more and more, and are all prosperous and respected, +and Miss Nannie has married the young superintendent of her new factory, +who has now risen to be the main partner; he is of an old though +impoverished family--" + +"You think so much of family in the South, don't you?" interjected Mrs. +Waite. + +"Well, we have so many old and good but impoverished families there, you +see. I think the chances are she married such a boy; and they have made +money, and Oscar has a nice plantation near them, and is married to a +sweet little Southern girl, and his mother adores the baby; and Ned +goes to college, and Mr. Marsh is a prosperous builder, high in the +Scottish Rite, and growing used to his dress coat--" + +"But," said the hostess, "you are having them all south; they went to +Dakota." + +"Why, so they did! I forgot," cried the Southerner. "Maybe it was a +mistake; and anyhow, they would have done better to go south!" + +Everybody laughed and Mrs. Curtis' fine eyes lit up. "I perceive you are +a psychic, Mrs. Atherton," she said gaily. "And they _did_ go south. +Being a psychic, can't you tell me something? Why didn't Nannie answer +my letters?" + +The Southerner dropped her chin and looked upward in the pose of a seer; +no one noticed Mrs. Clymer's sudden movement or the ripple of quick +emotion in Mrs. Curtis' face. "That's easy," she responded. "I see a +slim girl with dark hair walking with another girl who answers to the +name of Elsa. The dark-haired girl gives her a letter, stamped, but not +addressed. She has sent a letter to her friend, which has not reached +her. Letters sometimes do not reach people who are hurrying through +Egypt or--or other places. This letter she gives to Elsa, who is to +marry the cousin of an acquaintance of the friend. She is to post +it--_voila tout!_" + +"She _was_ engaged to Bertha Miller's cousin; and she did try awfully +hard to be intimate with Constance," whispered Mrs. Clymer in the +hostess' ear; while everybody laughed again. + +"He drinks like a fish," returned the hostess irrelevantly. + +"Oh, Mrs. Atherton, don't stop, tell us more," begged the youngest +member. "I feel so interested in Nannie. Has she any children?" The +youngest member had just acquired the most remarkable baby in the world. + +"I reckon," jested the Southerner, "two or three. Two boys, let us +say--" + +"How nice!" cried Mrs. Curtis, coloring prettily. "_I_ have two boys." + +"And--I think a little girl, whom she has named Constance, Constance +Ridgely--Are we going, Mrs. Clymer?" + +Mrs. Clymer laid a kindly hand on her shoulder, saying, "Yes, my dear, I +must go; but as I am stopping on my way, I shall walk; and Constance +will take care of you." + +"Thank you, Aunt Kate," said Mrs. Curtis, so low the others--except the +Southerner--did not hear. They were alone in the carriage before she +made any sign of that which had stirred her profoundly. Then she turned +on her companion a pale face and eyes that were swimming in tears. + +"Yes, dear," said the Southerner, whose lips were smiling, but whose own +eyes were wet. + +"Oh--_Nannie!_" cried Constance Ridgely. And the faces of the two women +were strangely like the faces of the two little girls who had found each +other years and years ago. + + + + +THE OLD PARTISAN + +A STORY OF THE REPUBLICAN CONVENTION OF 1896 + + +I sat so far back in the gallery that my opinion of my delegate friend +dwindled with every session. Nevertheless my unimportant seat had its +advantages. I could see the vast assembly and watch the throbbing of the +Republican pulse if I could not hear its heart-beats. Therefore, +perhaps, I studied my neighbors more than I might study them under +different circumstances. The great wooden hall had its transient and +unsubstantial character stamped on every bare wooden joist and +unclinched nail. It was gaudy with flags and bunting and cheap +portraits. There were tin bannerettes crookedly marshaled on the floor, +to indicate the homes of the different states. A few delegates, +doubtless new to the business and over-zealous, were already on the +floor, but none of the principals were visible. They were perspiring and +arguing in those committee rooms, those hotel lobbies and crowded hotel +rooms where the real business of the convention was already done and +neatly prepared for presentation to the nation. I had nothing to keep me +from studying my neighbors. In front of me sat two people who had +occupied the same seats at every session that I was present, a young +girl and an old man. The girl wore the omnipresent shirt waist (of +pretty blue and white tints, with snowy cuffs and collar), and her green +straw hat was decked with blue cornflowers, from which I inferred that +she had an eye on the fashions. Her black hair was thick and glossy +under the green straw. I thought that she had a graceful neck. It was +very white. Whiter than her face, which kept a touch of sunburn, as if +she were often out in the open air. Somehow I concluded that she was a +shop-girl and rode a wheel. If I were wrong it is not likely that I +shall ever know. + +The old man I fancied, was not so old as he looked; his delicate, +haggard profile may have owed its sunken lines and the dim eye to +sickness rather than to years. He wore the heavy black broadcloth of the +rural politician, and his coat sagged over his narrow chest as if he had +left his waistcoat at home. On his coat lapel were four old-fashioned +Blaine badges. Incessantly he fanned himself. + +"It can't be they ain't going to nominate him to-day?" he asked rather +than asserted, his voice breaking on the higher notes, the mere wreck of +a voice. + +"Oh, maybe later," the girl reassured him. + +"Well, I wanted to attend a Republican convention once more before I +died. Your ma would have it I wasn't strong enough; but I knew better; +you and I knew better; didn't we, Jenny?" + +She made no answer except to pat his thin, ribbed brown hand with her +soft, white, slim one; but there was a world of sympathy in the gesture +and her silent smile. + +"I wonder what your ma said when she came down-stairs and found the +letter, and us gone," he cackled with the garrulous glee of a child +recounting successful mischief; "made me think of the times when you was +little and I stole you away for the circus. Once, your pa thought you +was lost--'member? And once, you had on your school dress and you'd tore +it--she did scold you that time. But we had fun when they used to let me +have money, didn't we, Jenny?" + +"Well, now I earn money, we have good times, too, grandpa," said Jenny, +smiling the same tender, comprehending smile. + +"We do that; I don't know what I would do 'cept for you, lambie, and +this is--this is a grand time, Jenny, you look and listen; it's a great +thing to see a nation making its principles and its president--and such +a president!" + +He half turned his head as he spoke, with a mounting enthusiasm, thus +bringing his flushing face and eager eyes--no longer dim--into the focus +of his next neighbor's bright gray eyes. The neighbor was a young man, +not very young, but hardly to be called elderly, of an alert bearing and +kindly smile. + +"I think him a pretty fair man myself," said the other with a jocose +understatement; "I come from his town." + +What was there in such a simple statement to bring a distinctly anxious +look into the young girl's soft eyes? There it was; one could not +mistake it. + +"Well!" said the old man: there was a flattering deference in his voice. +"Well, well. And--and maybe you've seen him lately?" The quavering +tones sharpened with a keener feeling; it was almost as if the man were +inquiring for some one on whom he had a great stake of affection. "How +did he look? Was he better, stronger?" + +"Oh, he looked elegant," said the Ohio man, easily, but with a +disconcerted side glance at the girl whose eyes were imploring him. + +"I've been a Blaine man ever since he was run the time Bob Ingersoll +nominated him," said the old man, who sighed as if relieved. "I was at +that convention and heard the speech--" + +"Ah, that was a speech to hear," said a man behind, and two or three men +edged their heads nearer. + +The old Republican straightened his bent shoulders, his winter-stung +features softened and warmed at the manifestation of interest, his voice +sank to the confidential undertone of the narrator. + +"You're right, sir, right; it was a magnificent speech. I can see him +jest as he stood there, a stoutish, good-looking man, smooth-faced, his +eye straight ahead, and an alternate that sat next me--I was an +alternate; I've been an alternate four times; I could have been a +delegate, but I says, 'No, abler men than me are wanting it; I'm willing +to fight in the ranks.' But I wished I had a vote, a free vote that +day, I tell you. The alternate near me, he says, 'You'll hear something +fine now; I've heard him speak.'" + +"You did, too, I guess." + +"We could hear from the first minute. That kinder fixed our attention. +He had a mellow, rich kind of voice that melted into our ears. We found +ourselves listening and liking him from the first sentence. At first he +was as quiet as a summer breeze, but presently he began to warm up, and +the words flowed out like a stream of jewels. It was electrifying: it +was thrilling, sir; it took us off our feet before we knew it, and when +he came to the climax, those of us that weren't yelling in the aisles +were jumping up and down on our chairs! I know I found myself prancing +up and down on my own hat on a chair, swinging somebody else's hat and +screaming at the top of my voice, with the tears running down my cheeks. +God! sir, there were men there on their feet cheering their throats out +that had to vote against Blaine afterward--had to, because they were +there instructed--no more free will than a checked trunk!" The light +died out of his face. "Yes, sir, a great speech; never so great a +speech, whoever made it; but it did no good, he wasn't nominated, and +when we did nominate him we were cheated out of our victory. Well, we'll +do better this day." + +"We will that," said the other man, heartily; "McKinley--" + +"You'll excuse me"--the old man struck in with a deprecating air, yet +under the apology something fiercely eager and anxious that glued the +hearer's eyes to his quivering old face--"You'll excuse me. I--I am a +considerable of an invalid and I don't keep the run of things as I used +to. You see, I live with my daughter, and you know how women folks are, +fretting lest things should make you sick, and my girl she worries so, +me reading the papers. Fact is I got a shock once, an awful shock"--he +shivered involuntarily and his dim eyes clouded--"and it worried her +seeing me read. Hadn't ought to; it don't worry Jenny here, who often +gets me a paper, quiet like; but you know how it is with women--it's +easier giving them their head a little--and so I don't see many papers, +and I kinder dropped off. It seems queer, but I don't exactly sense it +about this McKinley. Is he running against Blaine or jest for vice?" + +The girl, under some feminine pretext of dropping and reaching for her +handkerchief, threw upward a glance of appeal at the interlocutor. +Hurriedly she stepped into the conversation. "My grandfather read a +false report about--about Mr. Blaine's sickness, and he was not well at +the time, and it brought on a bad attack." + +"I understand," said the listener, with a grave nod of his head and +movement of his eyes in the girl's direction. + +"But about McKinley?" the old man persisted. + +"He's for vice-president," the girl announced, her eyes fixed on the +hesitating man from Canton. I have often admired the intrepid fashion in +which a woman will put her conscience at a moral hedge, while a man of +no finer spiritual fiber will be straining his eyes to find a hole +through which he can crawl. + +"McKinley is not opposed to Blaine, is he?" she asked the man. + +"The Republican party has no name that is more loved than that of James +G. Blaine," said the man, gravely. + +"That's so, that's so!" the old partisan assented eagerly; "to my mind +he's the logical candidate." + +The Canton man nodded, and asked if he had ever seen Blaine. + +"Once, only once. I was on a delegation sent to wait on him and ask him +to our town to speak--he was in Cincinnati. I held out my hand when my +turn came, and the chairman nearly knocked the breath out of me by +saying, 'Here's the man gave more to our campaign fund and worked harder +than any man in the county, and we all worked hard for you, too.' Well, +Mr. Blaine looked at me. You know the intent way he looks. He has the +most wonderful eyes; look right at you and seem to bore into you like a +gimlet. I felt as if he was looking right down into my soul, and I tell +you I was glad, for I choked up so I couldn't find a word, not a word, +and I was ready and fluent enough in those days, too, I can tell you; +but I stood there filling up, and squeezed his hand and gulped and got +red, like a fool. But he understood. 'I have heard of your loyalty to +Republican principles, Mr. Painter,' says he, in that beautiful voice of +his that was like a violin; and I burst in--I couldn't help it--'It +ain't loyalty to Republican principles, it's to you.' I said that right +out. And he smiled, and said he, 'Well, that's wrong, but it isn't for +me to quarrel with you there, Mr. Painter,' and then they pushed me +along; but twice while the talk was going on I saw him look my way and +caught his eye, and he smiled, and when we were all shaking hands for +good-by he shook hands with a good firm grip, and said he, 'Good-by, Mr. +Painter; I hope we shall meet again.'" + +The old man drew a long sigh. "Those few moments paid for everything," +he said. "I've never seen him since. I've been sick and lost money. I +ain't the man I was. I never shall be put on any delegation again, or be +sent to any convention; but I thought if I could only go once more to a +Republican convention and hear them holler for Blaine, and holler once +more myself, I'd be willinger to die. And I told Tom Hale that, and he +and Jenny raised the money. Yes, Jenny, I'm going to tell--he and Jenny +put off being married a bit so's I could go, and go on plenty of money. +Jenny, she worked a month longer to have plenty, and Tom, he slipped ten +dollars into my hand unbeknown to her, jest as we were going, so I'd +always have a dime to give the waiter or the porter. I was never one of +these hayseed farmers, too stingy to give a colored boy a dime when he'd +done his best. I didn't need no money for badges; I got my old +badges--see!" + +He pushed out the lapel of his coat, covered with old-fashioned frayed +bits of tinsel and ribbon, smiling confidently. The girl had flushed +crimson to the rim of her white collar; but there was not a trace of +petulance in her air; and, all at once looking at him, her eyes filled +with tears. + +"Tom's an awful good fellow," he said, "an awful good fellow." + +"I'm sure of that," said the Canton man, with the frank American +friendliness, making a little bow in Miss Jenny's direction; "but see +here, Mr. Painter, do you come from Izard? Are you the man that saved +the county for the Republicans by mortgaging his farm and then going on +a house-to-house canvass?" + +"That's me," the old man acquiesced, blushing with pleasure; "I didn't +think, though, that it was known outside--" + +"Things go further than you guess. I'm a newspaper man, and I can tell +you that I shall speak of it again in my paper. Well, I guess they've +got through with their mail, and the platform's coming in." + +Thus he brushed aside the old man's agitated thanks. + +"One moment," said the old man, "who--who's going to nominate him?" + +For the space of an eyeblink the kindly Canton man looked embarrassed, +then he said, briskly: "Foraker, Foraker, of Ohio--he's the principal +one. That's he now, chairman of the committee on resolutions. He's +there, the tall man with the mustache--" + +"Isn't that elderly man, with the stoop shoulders and the chin beard and +caved-in face, Teller?" It was a man near me, on the seat behind, who +spoke, tapping the Canton man with his fan, to attract attention; +already the pitiful concerns of the old man who was "a little off" (as I +had heard some one on the seat whisper) were sucked out of notice in the +whirlpool of the approaching political storm. + +"Yes, that's Teller," answered the Canton man, his mouth straightening +and growing thin. + +"Is it to be a bolt?" + +The Canton man nodded, at which the other whistled and communicated the +information to his neighbors, one of whom remarked, "Let 'em bolt and be +damned!" A general, subtle excitement seemed to communicate its +vibrations to all the gallery. Perhaps I should except the old partisan; +he questioned the girl in a whisper, and then, seeming to be satisfied, +watched the strange scene that ensued with an expression of patient +weariness. The girl explained parts of the platform to him and he +assented; it was good Republican doctrine, he said, but what did they +mean with all this talk against the money; were they having trouble with +the mining states again? The Canton man stopped to explain--he certainly +was good-humored. + +During the next twenty minutes, filled as they were with savage emotion, +while the galleries, like the floor, were on their chairs yelling, +cheering, brandishing flags and fists and fans and pampas plumes of red, +white and blue at the little band of silver men who marched through the +ranks of their former comrades; he stood, he waved his fan in his feeble +old hand, but he did not shout. "You must excuse me," said he, "I'm all +right on the money question, but I'm saving my voice to shout for +_him_!" + +"That's right," said the Canton man; but he cast a backward glance which +said as plainly as a glance can speak, "I wish I were out of this!" + +Meanwhile, with an absent but happy smile, the old Blaine man was +beating time to the vast waves of sound that rose and swelled above the +band, above the cheering, above the cries of anger and scorn, the +tremendous chorus that had stiffened men's hearts as they marched to +death and rung through streets filled with armies and thrilled the +waiting hearts at home: + + "Three cheers for the red, white and blue! + Three cheers for the red, white and blue! + The army and navy for ever, three cheers for the red, white and + blue!" + +But when the chairman had stilled the tumult and made his grim comment, +"There appear to be enough delegates left to transact business," the old +partisan cast his eyes down to the floor with a chuckle. "I can't see +the hole they made, it's so small. Say, ain't he a magnificent +chairman; you can hear every word he says!" + +"Bully chairman," said a cheerful "rooter" in the rear, who had enjoyed +the episode more than words can say, and had cheered the passing of +Silver with such choice quotations from popular songs as "_Good-by, my +lover, good-by_," and "_Just mention that you saw me_," and plainly felt +that he, too, had adorned the moment. "I nearly missed coming this +morning, and I wouldn't have missed it for a tenner; they're going to +nominate now." + +The old man caught his breath; then he smiled. "I'll help you shout +pretty soon," said he, while he sat down very carefully. + +The "rooter," a good-looking young fellow with a Reed button and three +or four gaudy badges decking his crash coat, nodded and tapped his +temple furtively, still retaining his expression of radiant good-nature. +The Canton man nodded and frowned. + +I felt that the Canton man need not be afraid. Somehow we were all +tacitly taking care that this poor, bewildered soul should not have its +little dream of loyal, unselfish satisfaction dispelled. + +"Ah, my countrymen," I thought, "you do a hundred crazy things, you +crush _les convenances_ under foot, you can be fooled by frantic +visionaries, but how I love you!" + +It was Baldwin of Iowa that made the first speech. He was one of the +very few men--I had almost said of the two men--that we in the galleries +had the pleasure of hearing; and we could hear every word. + +He began with a glowing tribute to Blaine. At the first sentence our old +man flung his gray head in the air with the gesture of the war horse +when he catches the first, far-off scream of the trumpet. He leaned +forward, his features twitching, his eyes burning; the fan dropped out +of his limp hand; his fingers, rapping his palm, clenched and loosened +themselves unconsciously in an overpowering agitation. His face was +white as marble, with ominous blue shadows: but every muscle was +astrain; his chest expanded; his shoulders drew back; his mouth was as +strong and firm as a young man. For a second we could see what he had +been at his prime. + +Then the orator's climax came, and the name--the magic name that was its +own campaign cry in itself. + +The old partisan leaped to his feet; he waved his hands above his head; +wild, strange, in his white flame of excitement. He shouted; and we all +shouted with him, the McKinley man and the Reed man vieing with each +other (I here offer my testimony as to the scope and quality of that +young Reed man's voice), and the air rang about us: "Blaine! Blaine! +James G. Blaine!" He shrieked the name again and again, goading into +life the waning applause. Then in an instant his will snapped under the +strain; his gray beard tilted in the air; his gray head went back on his +neck. + +The Canton man and I caught him in time to ease the fall. We were helped +to pull him into the aisle. There were four of us by this time, his +granddaughter and the Reed "rooter," besides the Canton man and myself. + +We carried him into the wide passageway that led to the seats. The Reed +young man ran for water, and, finding none, quickly returned with a +glass of lemonade (he was a young fellow ready in shifts), and with it +we bathed the old man's face. + +Presently he came back, by degrees, to the world; he was not conscious, +but we could see that he was not going to die. + +"He'll be all right in no time," declared the Reed man. "You had better +go back and get your seats, and keep mine!" + +I assured both men that I could not return for more than a short time, +having an engagement for luncheon. + +"That's all right," said the Reed man, turning to the Canton man, "I +ain't shouting when Foraker comes; you are. You go back and keep my +seat; I'll come in later on Hobart." + +So the kindly Canton man returned to the convention for which he was +longing, and we remained in our little corner by the window, the young +girl fanning the old man, and the young man on the watch for a boy with +water. He darted after one; and then the girl turned to me. + +No one disturbed us. Below the traffic of a great city roared up to us +and a brass band clanged merrily. The crowd hurried past, drawn by the +tidings that "the fight was on," and choked the outlets and suffocated +the galleries. + +"He's been that way ever since he read, suddenly, that Blaine was +dead"--she said, lowering her voice to keep it safe from his failing +ears--"he had a kind of a stroke, and ever since he's had the notion +that Blaine was alive and was going to be nominated, and his heart was +set on going here. Mother was afraid; but when--when he cried to go, I +could not help taking him--I didn't know but maybe it might help him; he +was such a smart man and such a good man; and he has had trouble about +mortgaging the farm; and he worked so hard to get the money back, so +mother would feel right. All through the hot weather he worked, and I +guess that's how it happened. You don't think it's hurt him? The doctor +said he might go. He told T--, a gentleman friend of mine who asked +him." + +"Oh, dear, no," I exclaimed, "it has been good for him." + +I asked for her address, which fortunately was near, and I offered her +the cab that was waiting for me. I had some ado to persuade her to +accept it; but when I pointed to her grandfather's pale face she did +accept it, thanking me in a simple but touching way, and, of course, +begging me to visit her at Izard, Ohio. + +All this while we had been sedulously fanning the old man, who would +occasionally open his eyes for a second, but gave no other sign of +returning consciousness. + +The young Reed man came back with the water. He was bathing the old +man's forehead in a very skillful and careful way, using my +handkerchief, when an uproar of cheering shook the very floor under us +and the rafters overhead. + +"Who is it?" the old man inquired, feebly. + +"Foraker! Foraker!" bellowed the crowd. + +"He's nominated him!" muttered the old man; but this time he did not +attempt to rise. With a smile of great content he leaned against his +grand-daughter's strong young frame and listened, while the cheers +swelled into a deafening din, an immeasurable tumult of sound, out of +which a few strong voices shaped the chorus of the Battle Cry of +Freedom, to be caught up by fifteen thousand throats and pealed through +the walls far down the city streets to the vast crowd without. + +The young Reed "boomer," carried away by the moment, flung his free hand +above his head and yelled defiantly: "Three cheers for the man from +Maine!" Instantly he caught at his wits, his color turned, and he lifted +an abashed face to the young girl. + +"But, really, you know, that ain't giving nothing away," he apologized, +plucking up heart. "May I do it again?" + +The old partisan's eye lighted. "Now they're shouting! That's like old +times! Yes, do it again, boy! Blaine! Blaine! James G. Blaine!" + +He let us lead him to the carriage, the rapturous smile still on his +lips. The "rooter" and I wormed our way through the crowd back to the +seats which the kind Canton man had kept for us. + +We were quite like old acquaintances now; and he turned to me at once. +"Was there ever a politician or a statesman, since Henry Clay, loved so +well as James G. Blaine?" + + + + +MAX--OR HIS PICTURE + + +A knock sounded on the principal's door. "That's Florence," she thought; +and she sighed in the same breath. The principal had secretly liked +Florence Raimund, the best of her two hundred girls, for three years; +and, sometimes, she suspected that Florence knew it. Miss Wing sat at +her desk. It was a large desk of oak, always kept in blameless order. No +one could recall seeing more than one letter at a time lying on the +blotter. Any others, yet unread, lay in the wicker tray to the left; the +letters read but not answered were in the wicker tray to the right; the +answered letters were in appropriate pigeonholes or in ashes, Miss Wing +being a firm believer in fire as a confidential agent. Above the desk +hung the most interesting object in the room, to the school-girls; in +fact it would be hard to gage justly the influence this one, mute and +motionless, had over their young imaginations; or how far it was +responsible for the rose-tinted halo that beyond doubt, glorified the +principal for them. The object was a picture, the picture of a young man +in the uniform of a captain in the German cuirassiers. His thick light +hair was brushed back from a fine and candid forehead. A smile creased +his cheek under the warlike curl of his mustachios. It was a smile so +happy and so friendly in its happiness, that it won the beholder. The +eyes were not large, but even in the black and white of a photograph +(the portrait was an ordinary cabinet _carte_) they seemed to sparkle. +The young fellow's figure was superb, and held with a military precision +and jauntiness. One said, looking at the whole presence, "This man is a +good fellow." Viewing him more closely, one might add, "And he is in +love." The picture was framed handsomely in a gilded frame. On the desk +below, an exquisite vase of Venice lifted a single, perfect rose. For +fifteen years a flower had always bloomed thus. Miss Wing had hung the +picture herself, fifteen years ago. Then, she was the new principal, and +the school was but half its size; and the village people exclaimed at +trusting "such a girl" with so much responsibility. During those fifteen +years the new building had been built, the school had grown and +flourished; and the gray had crept into Margaret Wing's bright hair. She +had so often put on mourning for her near kindred that she had assumed +it as her permanent garb. To the certain (and ecstatic) knowledge of the +school, she had refused divers offers of marriage from citizens of good +repute and substance. But during all the changing years, the picture had +kept its place and the fresh flowers had bloomed below. No girl could +remember the desk without the picture; and when the old girls visited +the school, their eyes would instinctively seek it in its old place; +always with a little moving of the heart. Yet no one ever alluded to it +to the principal; and no one, not her most trusted teacher, nor her best +loved pupil, had ever heard the principal speak of it. The name of the +pictured soldier, his story, his relation to Miss Wing; Miss Wing's +nearest kindred and friends knew as much about all these as the +school--and that was nothing. Nevertheless, the school tradition +reported part of a name on the authority of a single incident. Years ago +an accident happened to the picture. It was the principal's custom to +carry it with her on her journeys, however brief; always taking it down +and putting it back in its place herself. On this occasion the floor had +been newly polished, and in hanging the picture her chair on which she +stood slipped and she fell, while the picture dropped out of her grasp. +One of the girls, who was passing, ran to her aid; but she had crawled +toward the picture and would have it in her hands before she allowed the +girl to aid her to rise--a circumstance, you may be sure, not likely to +escape the sharp young eyes. Neither did these same eyes miss the +further circumstance that the jar had shifted the _carte_ in the frame +and a line of writing, hitherto hidden, was staring out at the world. +The hand was the sharp, minute German hand, but the words were English; +the girl took them in at an eyeblink, as she handed the picture to Miss +Wing: "_Thine for ever, Max._" Miss Wing made no comment; perhaps she +supposed that the girl had not seen, perhaps--in any case she was +silent. + +Of course, the new light flooded the school gossip immediately. But +there never came any more; every new girl was free to work her own will +on Miss Wing's romance. Was "Max" dead? Had they parted because of any +act on the woman's part? Surely he could not have been false, to receive +that daily oblation of flowers. It was more likely that she thus +expressed an imperishable regret. Youth, ever fanciful, played with all +manner of dainty and plaintive variations on the theme. Its very mystery +was its poignant charm; since each tender young soul created a new +romance and a new appeal. Elusive and pathetic, it hovered on the edge +of these young lives, like the perfume of a flower. And its influence +was the more potent that it asked for nothing. It is not too much to say +that the spectacle of that gentle and reticent faithfulness was the +strongest element in the school atmosphere. Certainly, because of it, +Miss Wing had greater power over her scholars. She was a woman of +ability and gentle force; by nature a little aloof, a little precise, +able to feel deeply, but not able to express her sympathies or her pain. +Without her mysterious sorrow, she would have seemed to young girls a +thought too admirable; they would have been chilled by her virtues; but +as it was, their perception that she had lived deeply, that she had +suffered, that she had been loved and had loved eternally, opened their +hearts. They would have admired her, now they adored her. By degrees, +and insensibly to herself, she became the confessor of her little +world. After they left school, her girls brought her their perplexities +of the heart. Wives came to her with cruel dilemmas which they shrank +from revealing to their own mothers--perhaps because the mothers could +not be trusted to plead for the erring husband so well; for a woman who +loves complains, not to be justified herself, but to hear her lover's +misconduct excused and his love proved against her doubts. Before they +left school, the girls confessed their faults and failings and strivings +of conscience with the same eagerness with which they asked counsel in +their innocent romances of friendship or the sorrows of trigonometry, +and they accepted any penance directed, not only with patience, but a +kind of exaltation natural to youth, which finds a secret joy in the +exercise of its own fortitude. + +To-day, however, Miss Wing sat before the picture which so many young +eyes had studied with such vague, yet ardent, sympathy, and pondered +over a confidence that had not come. The lack of its coming hurt her; +and the tap on her door was welcome, for she thought, "It is she--coming +to tell me. Oh, I hope he is the right man." + +At her response, the door swung open with a jerk, and the dark-eyed girl +who entered was catching her breath, although she tried to make the +quick intakes noiseless. There was a look of pale resolution on her +features. + +"Have you come to let me congratulate you, my dear?" said the principal, +rising. The girl colored scarlet. "I've come because I had to, because I +couldn't deceive you," she blurted. "Miss Wing, it isn't so. I let Miss +Parker think so; but I'm not engaged to him." + +"Sit down, dear," said Miss Wing. The soft cadence of her voice did not +roughen. She sat down when her guest sat, and leaned back in her desk +chair, folding her slim, white hands. There were flashing rings on her +hands; and the girls used to wonder which ring "Max" had given her. They +favored the sapphire, set between two diamonds, because of its beauty +("a real Cashmere, you know"), and because, whether she wore other rings +or not, this always kept its place. + +"Now, tell me," said Miss Wing. + +"I had a letter from him this morning; it was just a note in one of +Helen Grier's"--the girl's lithe form was erect in the chair, every +muscle tense; she looked past Miss Wing to the wall and spoke in +toneless voice; no one could see that she was driving straight on to her +purpose, over her own writhing nerves--"all he said was that he had been +called back to Germany--" + +"Is he a German? Miss Parker said his name was Cutler." + +"It is Butler," the girl said, flinging her head back, while a spark +crept into her liquid, troubled, dark eyes, "but he _is_ a German. Don't +you know the Butlers in 'Wallenstein?' You know he was a real man; and +he founded a family. He--my--my friend is the Count von Butler." Miss +Wing's chair, like other desk chairs, was set on a pivot; she turned +very slightly and slowly, at the same time resting her elbow on the +desk. The girl ventured a timid glance at her, and thought that she +looked sterner, wherefore her heart sank; but she only continued the +faster: "He isn't in America just to travel; he was sent by his +government to watch the Cuban war. He's very brave; and he isn't a bit +like a foreigner and hasn't any nasty supercilious notions about women. +Mr. Grier says he has a _future_. And really, Miss Wing, he is just +like a--a--a kind of knight." + +"Where did you meet him?" + +"At Helen's last summer. And he was going out to Minneapolis to see +papa, I--I think. But he got a cable of his uncle's death. And his two +little cousins died last year; so now he is the head of the family; and +he must go to Germany at once. For his father is dead, you know. So he +wrote (in Helen's letter, because he is so--so awfully proper!) asking +to let him come here and take me to drive--in the American fashion. I +know who put him up to that scheme; it was Helen. I had to ask Miss +Parker, because you were out; and she said if he wasn't a relation or +the man I was going to marry I couldn't go. 'Of course, if he were the +man you expect to marry,' she said, and--and I--I said, 'But he is!' +Just like that. I can't fancy how I came to say such a thing, but when +it was said I didn't know how to explain; and I was so awfully ashamed; +and, besides"--she lifted her eyes in the frank and direct gaze that +Miss Wing always liked--"besides, I do want to see him." + +"And do you expect him to ask you to marry him?" said Miss Wing, with a +deepening of the color on her cheek, which went out suddenly like the +flame of a lamp in the wind. + +Florence Raimund blushed again, but this time she laughed: "I don't +know. He is so awfully proper," said she, "and he hasn't had a chance to +ask papa; but--I think he wants to." + +"In that case, isn't he the man whom you expect to marry?" asked Miss +Wing dryly. "But it was deceiving her just the same. I am glad you came, +Florence." + +Here the girl looked up; and something in Miss Wing's eyes made her dash +across the room to fling herself on her knees before that lady with an +inarticulate gasp between a sob and a laugh, and the sentences came in a +rush: "I _had_ to come! I couldn't deceive you if I never saw him again. +And besides, I hoped you would think of some way!" + +"And you escape quite unpunished?" said Miss Wing gently. + +At which the black head sank lower, while a smothered voice mumbled: "Do +you think I--_liked_ it, coming to tell?" + +Miss Wing smoothed her hair. "It would have pained me very much if you +had not come. Tell me; whether he sees you or not, will he not write to +your father? Do you think his feeling is so slight that a disappointment +will turn it?" + +The black head threw itself up bravely and the fearless young eyes met +Miss Wing's pensive brown ones. "No, Miss Wing, I know it will make no +difference." + +Miss Wing stifled a sigh; it may be that she was not so sure of the firm +purpose of a lover; she spoke more gently: "It is only the +disappointment, then, if you can't see him?" + +The girl's face quivered a little. + +"Perhaps I am foolish," said Miss Wing, "but I think it _would_ be a +disappointment very hard to bear. Still, you must admit that parents do +not send their children to school expecting them to become engaged to be +married; on the contrary, there is a tacit pledge that we shall protect +our wards from any entanglement. But this did not happen at school; the +only question is, ought I to prevent it going any farther? My dear, do +you have confidence in me?" + +"Yes, Miss Wing," said the girl. + +"Of course, I do not think that I ought to consent to your driving alone +together." + +The girl drew a long sigh. "I suppose not," she breathed, in dismal +resignation. + +"But I should like him to come here, to see me; and then, if I find him +to be what your father would approve, you may see him here; and we shall +all have to explain things together, I fancy, to your father." + +The girl drew another, a very different, sigh, and impulsively kissed +Miss Wing's hand. She tried to speak, and could only murmur, "Oh, I do +love you!" + +"And so, if you will tell Graf von Butler--what is his Christian name, +Florence?" + +"Max," said the girl, very low, for she felt the presence of the +picture, on which she had not once turned her eyes. Before she spoke, +under a pretense of a pull at her skirt, she slipped her hand out of the +hand with the sapphire ring. Yet her excited young nerves vibrated at +the slight cough which came as the principal changed her position, +before she said, in her usual tone: "It is a fine name. Well, Florence, +you will tell Count Max von Butler that I shall hope to see him. +And--will you trust me?" + +The girl told her that she would trust her utterly, and she knew that +it would be right; and oh, she was so happy. And she came back to say, +with the tears in her eyes, "I shall be grateful to you as long as I +live." + +Miss Wing stood in the center of the room, smiling, until the door +closed. But then in a second she was at the door, almost fiercely, but +noiselessly, twisting the key in the lock. From the door she passed to +the windows and dropped the shades. At last, safe from every chance of +espial, she sat down again in her chair before the desk, leaned her +elbows on the desk, and looked desperately, miserably, into the joyous +face of the picture. She did not speak, but her thoughts took on words +and sank like hot lead into her heart. "Max Butler! Max Butler! The +little nephew he told me about. And _he_ has been alive all these years; +and happy; with little sons, while I--I have lied to these trusting +girls. It was wicked and shameless. I deceived myself; then I deceived +them. I wonder why. I knew what they were thinking. How dare I look that +honest child in the face! I suppose she wonders like the rest why I have +not told any one of my romance. And it is simply that there was nothing +to tell. Nothing." She looked into the soldier's happy eyes while her +lips curled and she murmured, drearily and bitterly, "I haven't even the +right to be angry with you, poor lad. What did you do? _You_ are not my +Max; I only made him up out of my heart--like children playing a game!" +Her mind drifted dizzily through shapeless and inconsequent visions of +the past. She was seeing again the grim pile of the ruined castle, the +masses of broken shadow, the intricate carving on arch and architrave +and plinth, the wavering mass of limbs and tree-trunks on the green +sward; and she, with her twisted ankle, was kneeling, trying to peer +through the shrubbery for her lost companions. Did he come by chance? +She had seen the handsome young officer daily, for a week. His +great-aunt was Margaret's right-hand neighbor at the pension table +d'hote, a withered relic of Polish nobility with fine, black eyes in a +face like a hickory nut; who wore shabby gowns and magnificent jewels, +frankly smoked cigarettes, and seemed to have a venomous tale ready to +fit any name mentioned in conversation--with one exception, her +nephew's. According to her, Max's father was a swine and his mother a +fool and his brother a popinjay, and his sister had no respect for her +betters; but Max had a heart. It was understood at the pension that she +was arranging a great match for him. In spite of the general disapproval +of his aunt, he was a favorite, he was so simple, amiable, and polite. +Even the American professor admitted that for a man "who had won the +iron cross in such a spectacular fashion, he was very modest and really +more like an American than a German officer," thus paying the +unconsciously arrogant compliment kept by every race for engaging +aliens. Margaret's first sight of him was not under the shelter of +conventionalities. It happened that the countess' ferocious pet (and the +terror of the pension), a Great Dane, was trying to eat up a little +girl, but fortunately had begun with her petticoats. The court of the +house was the scene of the fray; a large, timid cook, the only witness, +was waving a copper kettle full of the meringue that she was beating, in +one hand, and the great wire whip in the other, while she shrieked +impartially on Heaven and the police. Margaret heard the din. She ran to +the spot. Being a New England woman, she didn't scream; one swift glance +went from the child's writhing body and the dog's horrible head to the +wailing cook. In two strides she caught the kettle out of a fat and +agitated German hand and hurled the whole sticky, white mass full at the +dog's eyes; then, as the blinded and astounded beast flung his head back +to howl, and spattered the world with meringue, she snatched up the +child and sent her flying into the door and the cook. The dog was +smeared with meringue, she was smeared, the child was smeared, the cook +was smeared; and now a beautiful white and gold officer, who bounded +over the wall and fell upon the dog with his saber and two heels, was +smeared the most lavishly of all! No wonder Frau Mueller (visible aloft, +in an artless German toilet of ease and without her teeth), the countess +(who was a gazing stock, for the same reason), and Augustine, her maid, +the three Russians on the second floor, and the three Americans on the +third, filled the windows with polyglot consternation! The consequence +of it all was that when the Count von Butler was formally presented to +Miss Wing that evening, she blushed. She was too pale and listless to be +pretty, but when she blushed she was enchanting. Remembering the +meringue, she smiled and ventured an upward glance; and, for the first +time in her life, met the admiration in the eyes of a man. At this time +Margaret was thirty years old and had never been asked in marriage. She +had spent most of the thirty years in a boarding-school, as pupil or as +teacher; and she had brought from her cloistered life a single vivid +feeling, a passionate friendship which death had ended. The sapphire +ring was her poor friend's last token. + +To be thirty and never to have been sought like other girls, leaves a +chill in the heart. It may be lonely never to have loved, but it is +bleak never to have been loved. Margaret remembered her delicate, +girlish dreams with a recoil of humiliation; they seemed to her almost +immodest. She thought she was too old to wear hats, and wondered whether +she ought not to discard the pinks and light blues which poor Elly had +liked on her, for more sedate colors. But she wore pink after she met +Max Butler. Yet he never saw her save in the presence of others. He was +full of little, graceful attentions, but he showed the same attentions +to the portly clergyman's widow and the meritorious but cross-eyed +teacher of fifty, who formed Miss Wing's "party"; it was only his eyes, +his eyes always following her, approvingly, delighting, admiring, +pleading, speaking to her as they spoke to no other woman. She told +herself that it was just the pleasant, foreign way; and she wrote to her +friends in America, "The German officers have very agreeable, +deferential manners; I think they are much more gentle and polite and +have a higher respect for women than the French or Italians." And he +said no word, even of friendship, until that afternoon at the +Heidelberger Schloss. + +He came upon her almost immediately, scrambling up the bank at a rate +which had worked woe to his uniform. He was torn, he was scratched, he +was stained with mud and grass; and he was beaming with delight. "I have +seen you from below," he exclaimed in his careful English, "so I came +up. Will you excuse?" Then his mood changed, perceiving her plight, and +he insisted on tearing his handkerchief into strips to bind her ankle. +It seemed absurd to refuse his aid, which he offered quite simply; but +his hands trembled a little over the knots. "It will be most easy, I +think," said he, "that you should let me assist you a small way, to the +_restauracion_; so I can get the carriage, and you can have some ice +cream. Again, to-day, is it burned--" + +She had laughed and said that she never had heard of burned ice cream. +He laughed, too, and explained that it was burned as a custard, and +somehow under cover of this she let him put her hand on his shoulder and +his arm about her waist. She was grateful to him for the matter-of-fact +manner in which he did it all, saying, "You will have to be my comrade +that has been wounded, and I will help him off the field; so I did, +once, with my colonel; it is better than to wait until I could bring +help." In this fashion they walked for some twenty minutes. They were +minutes not entirely disfigured by her physical pain, for it was a +comfort to be helped by so strong and kind a friend. The comfort +brightened almost into pleasure, as they drove homeward in a shabby +_droschky_, with all the circuit of the horizon flooded with softest +rose and gold, reflecting the cloudless glory of the west. Borne along +through that unreal and lovely radiance, past the hills checkered with +vineyards and ripening grain, which the sunlight blazoned in green and +gold like the initials of an old missal; they talked as one friend would +talk to another. At least that was her phrase, and she admitted to +herself that she had not been so nearly happy since Elly died. "I didn't +know a man could be so--so kind," she said. + +He told her of his country and his home; and how he loved the hills that +his fathers had always owned, and the rugged, simple, faithful people; +he told her of the plans of his father and himself for them; he told her +of his father, who had the best heart in the world, but was credited +with a fierce temper simply because his voice was loud; and his mother, +who was so gentle that every one loved her; and his handsome sister, and +his brother, who was a diplomat and far cleverer than he; and his little +brother who died and would have no one carry him in his pain but Max +("Ah, he was the most clever and the most beautiful of us all!"), and +Max, his little nephew, who looked like the dead boy. "I hope you will +see my home and them all," he said; "to-morrow, I shall see them, then, +the same day, I shall be back here--with you." + +And then, by degrees, she won him to talk of his profession, of his +hopes, his ambitions, his ideals; of all those intimate and cherished +things which lie at the bottom of the soul and only rise for a friend's +eyes. It seemed to her that she could read his character in the hints +given by his words, as one would fill an outline sketch with perspective +and details. There was certainly a fascination in this revelation; +candor, after all, was a virtue, as well as reticence. Perhaps her new +friend was a little mediaeval, but he was as refined as if he had been +all modern. + +By now they were rattling through the modern town of Heidelberg, the +plain walls of which looked bare after the lawless pomp of carving and +form on the old castle; they had not even the bizarre, affected grace of +the architecture then decking American countrysides. But Margaret +thought how homelike and honest the houses looked; staunch and trusty, +like the German. Butler, just then, was praising American buggies, from +which he made a general transition to the customs of society. "In +America, is it not," says he, "the young ladies drive alone with young +men?" + +"Yes, very often. But not with you?" + +"Oh, no, _mein fraulein_, this is the first time I am alone with a young +lady!" + +She had called herself old for so long that there was a distinct +pleasure in being "a young lady" to him, and she had not time to +remember it partook of the nature of deceit, because he sent a wave of +confusion over her by continuing: "In America, also, one would propose +marriage to a lady, herself, before to her father?" + +"It is our custom," agreed Margaret, "but"--with her prim teacher's +air--"your custom is far more decorous." + +His face fell, then promptly brightened. "Perhaps it would be best to +speak to both, so near the same time one can. But this is another thing +you must explain me. How is it most preferable to the lady, that one +shall write or shall come--" + +"Oh, write," said Margaret quickly. How silly of her to suddenly feel so +frightened; she wished that she were in a room and not in a carriage +with him; involuntarily she shrank back into her own corner, and she +found that she was playing with the soiled and frayed edges of a tear in +the cloth of the side-curtain and watching her pearl-colored fingers. +Those gloves she had put on new, that day. How reckless! But she had not +the resolution to desist. His voice dragged a little, "Ah, yes, if she +would refuse, but if--_not_?" + +"In any case," said she. + +"Look!" he exclaimed, "at the sunset. Ah, is it not lovely?" + +Of a sudden they were looking, not at the sunset, but into each other's +eyes; and all about them was that wonderful, transfiguring glow, and it +seemed as if there were nothing in the whole world that he had not said. + +"Is it to the right, Herr Captain?" asked the driver, turning on his +seat to divide a benign and semi-intoxicated smile between them. + +Then it was hardly a moment until the yellow stucco of the pension +jumped at their eyes, around a corner; and there were the clergyman's +widow and the teacher at the door. They fell upon the carriage in a +clamor of explanation and sympathy; they were at her side when he bowed +over her hand and kissed it, saying, "_Aufwiedersehen_." + +That was all. There was never any more. He did not come again. Or if he +came, she was not there, since the next day they were on their way to +Bremen, summoned by cable to her sister's deathbed. She never heard from +him or of him again. Yet she had left her American address with his aunt +for any letters that might need to be forwarded, and a stiff little +note of thanks and farewell--a perfectly neutral note such as any friend +might give or receive. There followed weeks crowded with sorrow and +business (the sister was a widow without children, and she shared her +estate with her other sister); and Margaret imputed her deep depression +to these natural and sufficient causes. She rated herself for vanity in +reading her own meanings into a courteous young man's looks and his +intelligent interest in national difference of manners. She fostered her +shame with the New Englander's zest for self-torture. But one afternoon, +without warning, there fell upon her a deep and hopeless peace. It was +as if some invisible power controlled and changed all the currents of +her thought. She _knew_ that her friend was not faithless or careless; +he was dead. She began to weep gently, thinking pitifully of his old +father with the loud voice, and his fragile mother and the sister and +brother and the little nephew. "Poor people," she murmured, wishing, for +the first time in her life, to make some sign of her sorrow for them to +them, she who always paid her toll of sympathy, but dreaded it and knew +that she was clumsy. She remembered the day at the castle, and went +over again each word, each look. A sensation that she could not +understand, full of awe and sweetness, possessed her. It was +indescribable, unthinkable, but it was also irresistible. Under its +impulse she went to a trunk in another room, from which she had not yet +removed all the contents, and took out her Heidelberg photographs. She +said to herself that she would look at the scenes of that day. In her +search she came upon a package of her own pictures which had come the +morning of the day that she had gone. She could not remember any details +of receiving them, except that she had been at the photographer's the +day before and paid for them. When they came she was in too great +agitation (they were just packing) to more than fling them into a tray. +She could not tell why she took the _cartes_ out of the envelope and ran +them listlessly through her fingers; but at the last of the package she +uttered a cry. The last _carte_ was a picture of Max, with the +inscription in his own hand, "Thine for ever." It is not exact to say +that with the finding of the picture her doubt of his affection for her +vanished; for in truth, she had no doubts, the possession was too +absolute. But the sight came upon her as the presence of a mortal being, +alive and visible, comes on one when he enters a room. And there is no +question that it was a comfort; if she had really loved Max, at this +time, the knowledge of his death would have been her cruelest shock; for +then she could have no hope to meet him again in the world--no hope of +some explanation and the happiness of life together. But she was not in +love with the young German, she was touched by his admiration, she +admired him tenderly, she felt the moving of a subtle attraction which +she called friendship and which might pass into a keener feeling; but +she did not love him. Not then. Therefore, she felt a sweetness in her +pain; she could respect herself once more; she had a new and mystical +joy; for was she not beloved above women? Had not her lover come to her, +through what strange paths who may know, to comfort her? This is the +story of the picture. She could not tell it. Nor did she; but she hung +Max's portrait on the walls of her little parlor; and she hung opposite +a picture of the castle; and from that day, never a day passed that it +did not influence her. She used to think her thoughts before it. She +came to it with her grief for the loss of kindred and friends, with her +loneliness, with her anxieties, with her aspirations, her plans, her +cares for others, her slowly dawning interests and affections. She was a +reticent woman, who might never have allowed her heart to expand to her +husband himself, beyond a certain limit; but she hid nothing from Max. +In time, she fell into the habit of talking to the picture. She called +him Max. The first time she spoke his name she blushed. She made her +toilets for him more than for the world; but whether Max could admire +them or not, it is certain that the girls knew every change in her +pretty gowns. Her sense of having been loved had its effect on her +manner, and a deeper effect on her heart. At thirty she was a New +England nun; at forty she was the woman who understands. The love which +the shrinking and critical girl repelled at its first step toward her, +without knowing, the woman who pitied and who understood, attracted, +quite as unconsciously. + +"It is very queer, Max," she said, "that in my old age men should want +to marry me. But I like you best." + +Only the day before, she had said that; and she had said, "I am happy, +Max. Isn't it strange! But I am." Only yesterday--and now there was +nothing. The Max that she had grown to love, with the gradual, +imperceptible advance of affection, sweet to her shy nature--that Max +had never been. No doubt all the while, over in Germany, a stout and +phlegmatic German landlord had been caring for his vineyards and playing +the war lord in the landwehr and living very comfortably with the +doughfaced German girl whose hair was lighter than her complexion, whom +the countess wanted him to marry; a man as unlike the high-souled knight +of her fancy as--as she, herself, was unlike the girl's image! Worst of +all was her own weak, false behavior. "No," she cried, in an access of +bitterness, "the worst is that I can't feel _that_ the worst; I can only +feel I have lost him, for ever! I don't seem to mind that I have lost +myself!" + +Now she began to pace the room, trying to think clearly. Was it her duty +to tell Florence the story and let her tell the girls? The red-hot agony +of the idea seemed to her excited conscience an intimation that it _was_ +her duty from which she shrank because she was a selfish, hysterical, +dishonorable coward. Horrible as such abasement would be, if it were her +duty, she could do it; what she could not, what she _would_ not do, was +to tear the veil from that pure and mystical passion which had been the +flower of her heart. "Not if it cost me my soul," she said, with the +frozen quiet of despair; "it is awful, but I can't do it!" One thing did +remain; she could remove the picture. That false witness of what had +never been should go. No eyes should ever fall on it again. It should +never deceive more. She walked toward it firmly. She lifted her +hand--and it fell. "I can't!" she moaned. "I'll do it to-morrow." She +could not remember, in years, so weak a compromise offered her +conscience. + +But she felt a sense of respite, almost relief, once having decided, and +she recovered her composure enough to go to her chamber and bathe her +eyes. While she was thus engaged she heard a knock. "It is he," she said +quietly; "well, the sooner the better." + +It was he; he had come earlier than he expected, he explained; he was +most grateful for Miss Wing's kind message. He looked like his uncle, as +the members of a family will look alike. He was not so tall; he was not +so handsome. Perhaps most people would call him more graceful. And his +English was faultless; he must have spoken it from his childhood. In the +midst of his first sentences, before they had permitted him to take a +chair, his eyes traveled past Miss Wing's face. She perceived that he +saw the picture; she knew that she grew pale; but, to her amazement, a +calm like the calm which had wrapped her senses on the day of her +finding the picture, closed about her again. "I beg pardon?" said he. + +"Yes, that is Count von Butler's portrait," said she, in a clear voice, +without emotion. He was not so composed. "Then it _was_ you," he said. +Following her example, he took a chair and looked earnestly at the +pictured face. "When Miss Raimund spoke of you so warmly, I noticed that +the name was the same, and I determined to inquire, but it seemed to me +unlikely. Yet it is. Miss Wing, I have a message to you, from my uncle." + +She noticed that there were gold motes in the air; and his pleasant, +blond face seemed to wander through them; the room was full of sunlight. + +"I was with him when he died." + +That was a strange thing to hear when the message of his uncle's death +had come to him in another country; she hoped that her brain was not +going to play her false. + +"It was fifteen years ago last July, you know. I never knew how many +details you received, or only the bare fact in the papers." + +Fifteen years! fifteen years! What was that date he was giving? That was +the day on which she sailed for America, the day after--what was that +story he was telling of a visit and a fire and a child rescued and an +accident? But still she listened with the same iron composure. The next +words she heard distinctly. + +"It was like him to lose his life that way; and he did not grudge it. +Yet it was hard that I should be the only one of his blood with him. He +could speak with difficulty when he told me to take a lock of hair and +his signet ring to you. He dictated the address, himself, to me. 'You +must be sure and take it,' he said. 'It is to the lady that I hoped +would be my betrothed; you must tell grandmamma about it, too. She has +my picture and she knows--but tell her'--and then, I think his mind must +have wandered a little, for he smiled brightly at me, saying, '_I'll_ +tell her, myself,' and then the doctors came. He said nothing more, +only once, they told me, he murmured something about his betrothed. But +I had the ring; he took it off his finger and kissed it and gave it to +me. Child as I was, I knew that it was sacred. I wrapped it in the +paper, and afterward I put the lock of hair beside it. So soon as I +could, I went to Heidelberg, to the pension. You had gone and there was +no address, no trace--" + +"I left my address with the countess--" + +"My aunt is dead," said the young German gravely. "I would not criticize +her, but she had her own choice of a wife for my uncle; I do not think +one could trust her with addresses." + +"We all gave ours to her to give to Frau Mueller." + +"That is why, then, I could not find you. My grandmother also tried. But +you were gone. I thought of the banks, long after, but I found nothing. +Often it has seemed dreadful that you should learn of this only through +the papers. But I could not tell whether--_anything_. When I came to +America, I confess it was always in my mind. I always carried my uncle's +little packet with me. I will have it sent to you." + +"Excuse me," said Miss Wing gently. "Will you please bring me the glass +of water--I--am afraid--I can't walk to it." + +But she would not let him pour the water on his handkerchief to bathe +her head. She sipped the water, and very pale, but quite herself, +brought him back to his own matters. She found that it was a cousin, +miscalled an uncle, in the German manner, who had died. It did not seem +to her that Max's nephew could be unworthy of any girl; yet she +conscientiously questioned him regarding his worldly affairs, for +Florence was an only daughter whose father had great possessions and a +distrust of adventurers, and at last she sent him forth to walk in the +grove with his sweetheart. "And speak to her," she said, with a look +that sank into his heart; "it is the American way; don't wait to write, +the American way is best." + +So, at last, she was alone. Alone with her lover who had always been +true; whose love many waters could not quench, and it was stronger than +death. She often pondered, afterward, whether there had not been some +note written to her and sent with the photographs; whether the countess +might not have tampered with the package, taking the note, but not +suspecting the picture. But none of these puzzles troubled her to-day. +She stood in front of the picture. All the years, an obscure and +virginal shyness had withheld her from ever overstepping her first +attitude. She told him every thought of her heart in regard to others +and herself. He was her dearest friend. She called him "Max" and "my +friend." Recalling the French use of the latter term, she used it +sometimes with a little flutter of the heart. But those innocent +endearments that a woman keeps for her lover's portrait--to make amends +for not proffering them of free will to the poor fellow himself--these +it would have shocked her to imagine. She never touched the picture, +save reverently to dust it, to take it down when she went away, to +replace it in its station when she returned. But now, trembling, yet not +blushing, she took the picture into her hands. She looked long into its +eyes; she kissed it with a light and timid kiss, and swiftly hid the +smiling face against her heart, pressing the frame in both hands, and +touching it with her cheek bent over it, while she whispered: "You _did_ +tell me. You came back and told me. I love you. Max, my knight--my +husband!" + + + + +THE STOUT MISS HOPKINS' BICYCLE + + +There was a skeleton in Mrs. Margaret Ellis' closet; the same skeleton +abode also in the closet of Miss Lorania Hopkins. + +The skeleton--which really does not seem a proper word--was the dread of +growing stout. They were more afraid of flesh than of sin. Yet they were +both good women. Mrs. Ellis regularly attended church, and could always +be depended on to show hospitality to convention delegates, whether +clerical or lay; she was a liberal subscriber to every good work; she +was almost the only woman in the church aid society that never lost her +temper at the soul-vexing time of the church fair; and she had a larger +clientele of regular pensioners than any one in town, unless it were her +friend, Miss Hopkins, who was "so good to the poor" that never a tramp +slighted her kitchen. Miss Hopkins was as amiable as Mrs. Ellis, and +always put her name under that of Mrs. Ellis, with exactly the same +amount, on the subscription papers. She could have given more, for she +had the larger income; but she had no desire to outshine her friend, +whom she admired as the most charming of women. + +Mrs. Ellis, indeed, was agreeable as well as good, and a pretty woman to +the bargain, if she did not choose to be weighed before people. Miss +Hopkins often told her that she was not really stout; she merely was a +plump, trim little figure. Miss Hopkins, alas! was really stout. The two +waged a warfare against the flesh equal to the apostle's in vigor, +although so much less deserving of praise. + +Mrs. Ellis drove her cook to distraction with divers dieting systems, +from Banting's and Doctor Salisbury's to the latest exhortations of some +unknown newspaper prophet. She bought elaborate gymnastic appliances, +and swung dumbbells and rode imaginary horses and propelled imaginary +boats. She ran races with a professional trainer, and she studied the +principles of Delsarte, and solemnly whirled on one foot and swayed her +body and rolled her head and hopped and kicked and genuflected in +company with eleven other stout and earnest matrons and one slim and +giggling girl who almost choked at every lesson. In all these exercises +Miss Hopkins faithfully kept her company, which was the easier, as Miss +Hopkins lived in the next house, a conscientious Colonial mansion with +all the modern conveniences hidden beneath the old-fashioned pomp. + +And yet, despite these struggles and self-denials, it must be told that +Margaret Ellis and Lorania Hopkins were little thinner for their +warfare. Still, as Shuey Cardigan, the trainer, told Mrs. Ellis, there +was no knowing what they might have weighed had they not struggled. + +"It ain't only the fat that's _on_ ye, moind ye," says Shuey, with a +confidential sympathy of mien; '"it's what ye'd naturally be getting in +addition. And first ye've got to peel off that, and then ye come down to +the other." + +Shuey was so much the most successful of Mrs. Ellis' reducers that his +words were weighty. And when at last Shuey said, "I got what you need," +Mrs. Ellis listened. "You need a bike, no less," says Shuey. + +"But I never could ride one!" said Margaret, opening her pretty brown +eyes and wrinkling her Grecian forehead. + +"You'd ride in six lessons," pronounced Shuey. + +"But how would I _look_, Cardigan?" + +"You'd look noble, ma'am!" + +"What do you consider the best wheel, Cardigan?" + +Fear of being accused of advertising prevents my giving Cardigan's +answer; it is enough that the wheel glittered at Mrs. Ellis' door the +very next day, and that a large pasteboard box was delivered by the +expressman the very next week. He went on to Miss Hopkins', and +delivered the twin of the box, with a similar yellow printed card +bearing the impress of the same great firm on the inside of the box +cover. For Margaret had hied her to Lorania Hopkins the instant Shuey +was gone. She presented herself breathless, a little to the +embarrassment of Lorania, who was sitting with her niece before a large +box of cracker-jack. + +"It's a new kind of candy; I was just _tasting_ it, Maggie," faltered +she, while the niece, a girl of nineteen, with the inhuman spirits of +her age, laughed aloud. + +"You needn't mind me," said Mrs. Ellis cheerfully; "I'm eating potatoes +now!" + +"Oh, Maggie!" Miss Hopkins breathed the words between envy and +disapproval. + +Mrs. Ellis tossed her brown head airily, not a whit abashed. "And I had +beer for luncheon, and I'm going to have champagne for dinner." + +"Maggie, how do you dare? Did they--did they taste good?" + +"They tasted _heavenly_, Lorania. Pass me the candy. I am going to try +something new--the thinningest thing there is. I read in the paper of +one woman who lost forty pounds in three months, and is losing still!" + +"If it is obesity pills, I--" + +"It isn't; it's a bicycle. Lorania, you and I must ride! Sibyl Hopkins, +you heartless child, what are you laughing at?" + +Lorania rose; in the glass over the mantel her figure returned her gaze. +There was no mistake (except that, as is often the case with stout +people, _that_ glass always increased her size), she was a stout lady. +She was taller than the average of women, and well proportioned, and +still light on her feet; but she could not blink away the records; she +was heavy on the scales. Did she stand looking at herself squarely, her +form was shapely enough, although larger than she could wish; but the +full force of the revelation fell when she allowed herself a profile +view, she having what is called "a round waist," and being almost as +large one way as another. Yet Lorania was only thirty-three years old, +and was of no mind to retire from society, and have a special phaeton +built for her use, and hear from her mother's friends how much her +mother weighed before her death. + +"How should _I_ look on a wheel?" she asked, even as Mrs. Ellis had +asked before; and Mrs. Ellis stoutly answered, "You'd look _noble_!" + +"Shuey will teach us," she went on, "and we can have a track made in +your pasture, where nobody can see us learning. Lorania, there's nothing +like it. Let me bring you the bicycle edition of _Harper's Bazar_." + +Miss Hopkins capitulated at once, and sat down to order her costume, +while Sibyl, the niece, revelled silently in visions of a new bicycle +which should presently revert to her. "For it's ridiculous, auntie's +thinking of riding!" Miss Sibyl considered. "She would be a figure of +fun on a wheel; besides, she can never learn in this world!" + +Yet Sibyl was attached to her aunt, and enjoyed visiting Hopkins Manor, +as Lorania had named her new house, into which she moved on the same day +that she joined the Colonial Dames, by right of her ancestor the great +and good divine commemorated by Mrs. Stowe. Lorania's friends were all +fond of her, she was so good-natured and tolerant, with a touch of dry +humor in her vision of things, and not the least a Puritan in her frank +enjoyment of ease and luxury. Nevertheless, Lorania had a good, +able-bodied New England conscience, capable of staying awake nights +without flinching; and perhaps from her stanch old Puritan forefathers +she inherited her simple integrity, so that she neither lied nor +cheated--even in the small whitewashed manner of her sex--and valued +loyalty above most of the virtues. She had an innocent pride in her +godly and martial ancestry, which was quite on the surface, and led +people who did not know her to consider her haughty. + +For fifteen years she had been an orphan, the mistress of a very large +estate. No doubt she had been sought often in marriage, but never until +lately had Lorania seriously thought of marrying. Sibyl said that she +was too unsentimental to marry. Really she was too romantic. She had a +longing to be loved, not in the quiet, matter-of-fact manner of her +suitors, but with the passion of the poets. Therefore the presence of +another skeleton in Mrs. Ellis' closet, because she knew about a certain +handsome Italian marquis who at this period was conducting an +impassioned wooing by mail. Margaret did not fancy the marquis. He was +not an American. He would take Lorania away. She thought his very virtue +florid, and suspected that he had learned his love-making in a bad +school. She dropped dark hints that frightened Lorania, who would +sometimes piteously demand, "Don't you think he _could_ care for +me--for--for myself?" Margaret knew that she had an overweening distrust +of her own appearance. How many tears she had shed first and last over +her unhappy plumpness it would be hard to reckon. She made no account of +her satin skin, or her glossy black hair, or her lustrous violet eyes +with their long black lashes, or her flashing white teeth; she glanced +dismally at her shape and scornfully at her features, good, honest, +irregular American features, that might not satisfy a Greek critic, but +suited each other and pleased her countrymen. And then she would sigh +heavily over her figure. Her friend had not the heart to impute the +marquis' beautiful, artless compliments to mercenary motives. After all, +the Italian was a good fellow, according to the point of view of his own +race, if he did intend to live on his wife's money, and had a very +varied assortment of memories of women. + +But Margaret dreaded and disliked him all the more for his good +qualities. To-day this secret apprehension flung a cloud over the +bicycle enthusiasm. She could not help wondering whether at this moment +Lorania was not thinking of the marquis, who rode a wheel and a horse +admirably. + +"Aunt Lorania," said Sibyl, "there comes Mr. Winslow. Shall I run out +and ask him about those cloth-of-gold roses? The aphides are eating them +all up." + +"Yes, to be sure, dear; but don't let Ferguson suspect what you are +talking of; he might feel hurt." + +Ferguson was the gardener. Miss Hopkins left her note to go to the +window. Below she saw a mettled horse, with tossing head and silken +skin, restlessly fretting on his bit and pawing the dust in front of the +fence, while his rider, hat in hand, talked with the young girl. He was +a little man, a very little man, in a gray business suit of the best cut +and material. An air of careful and dainty neatness was diffused about +both horse and rider. He bent toward Miss Sibyl's charming person a +thin, alert, fair face. His head was finely shaped, the brown hair worn +away a little on the temples. He smiled gravely at intervals; the smile +told that he had a dimple in his cheek. + +"I wonder," said Mrs. Ellis, "whether Mr. Winslow can have a penchant +for Sibyl?" + +Lorania opened her eyes. At this moment Mr. Winslow had caught sight of +her at the window, and he bowed almost to his saddle-bow; Sibyl was +saying something at which she laughed, and he visibly reddened. It was a +peculiarity of his that his color turned easily. In a second his hat was +on his head and his horse bounded half across the road. + +"Hardly, I think," said Lorania. "How well he rides! I never knew any +one ride better--in this country." + +"I suppose Sibyl would ridicule such a thing," said Mrs. Ellis, +continuing her own train of thought, and yet vaguely disturbed by the +last sentence. + +"Why should she?" + +"Well, he is so little, for one thing, and she is so tall. And then +Sibyl thinks a great deal of social position." + +"He is a Winslow," said Lorania, arching her neck unconsciously--"a +lineal descendant from Kenelm Winslow, who came over in the _May_--" + +"But his mother--" + +"I don't know anything about his mother before she came here. Oh, of +course I know the gossip that she was a niece of the overseer at a +village poorhouse, and that her husband quarrelled with all his family +and married her in the poorhouse, and I know that when he died here she +would not take a cent from the Winslows, nor let them have the boy. She +is the meekest-looking little woman, but she must have an iron streak in +her somewhere, for she was left without enough money to pay the funeral +expenses, and she educated the boy and accumulated enough money to pay +for this place they have. + +"She used to run a laundry, and made money; but when Cyril got a place +in the bank she sold out the laundry and went into chickens and +vegetables; she told somebody that it wasn't so profitable as the +laundry, but it was more genteel, and Cyril being now in a position of +trust at the bank, she must consider _him_. Cyril swept out the bank. +People laughed about it, but, do you know, I rather liked Mrs. Winslow +for it. She isn't in the least an assertive woman. How long have we been +up here, Maggie? Isn't it four years? And they have been our next-door +neighbors, and she has never been inside the house. Nor he either, for +that matter, except once when it took fire, you know, and he came in +with that funny little chemical engine tucked under his arm, and took +off his hat in the same prim, polite way that he takes it off when he +talks to Sibyl, and said, 'If you'll excuse me offering advice, Miss +Hopkins, it is not necessary to move anything; it mars furniture very +much to move it at a fire. I think, if you will allow me, I can +extinguish this.' And he did, too, didn't he, as neatly and as coolly as +if it were only adding up a column of figures. And offered me the engine +as a souvenir of the occasion afterward." + +"Lorania, you never told me that!" + +"It seemed like making fun of him, when he had been so kind. I declined +as civilly as I could. I hope I didn't hurt his feelings. I meant to pay +a visit to his mother and ask them to dinner, but you know I went to +England that week, and somehow when I came back it was difficult. It +seems a little odd we never have seen more of the Winslows, but I fancy +they don't want either to intrude or to be intruded on. But he is +certainly very obliging about the garden. Think of all the slips and +flowers he has given us, and the advice--" + +"All passed over the fence. It is funny our neighborly good offices +which we render at arm's-length. How long have you known him?" + +"Oh, a long time. He is cashier of my bank, you know. First he was +teller, then assistant cashier, and now for five years he has been +cashier. The president wants to resign and let him be president, but he +hardly has enough stock for that. But Oliver says" (Oliver was Miss +Hopkins' brother) "that there isn't a shrewder or straighter banker in +the state. Oliver likes him. He says he is a sandy little fellow." + +"Well, he is," assented Mrs. Ellis. "It isn't many cashiers would let +robbers stab them and shoot them and leave them for dead rather than +give up the combination of the safe!" + +"He wouldn't take a cent for it, either, and he saved ever so many +thousand dollars. Yes, he _is_ brave. I went to the same school with him +once, and saw him fight a big boy twice his size--such a nasty boy, who +called me 'Fatty,' and made a kissing noise with his lips just to scare +me--and poor little Cyril Winslow got awfully beaten, and when I saw him +on the ground, with his nose bleeding and that big brute pounding him, I +ran to the water-bucket, and poured the whole bucket on that big +bullying boy and stopped the fight, just as the teacher got on the +scene. I cried over little Cyril Winslow. He was crying himself. 'I +ain't crying because he hurt me,' he sobbed; 'I'm crying because I'm so +mad I didn't lick him!' I wonder if he remembers that episode?" + +"Perhaps," said Mrs. Ellis. + +"Maggie, what makes you think he is falling in love with Sibyl?" + +Mrs. Ellis laughed. "I dare say he _isn't_ in love with Sibyl," said +she. "I think the main reason was his always riding by here instead of +taking the shorter road down the other street." + +"Does he always ride by here? I hadn't noticed." + +"Always!" said Mrs. Ellis. "_I_ had noticed." + +"I am sorry for him," said Lorania, musingly. "I think Sibyl is very +much taken with that young Captain Carr at the Arsenal. Young girls +always affect the army. He is a nice fellow, but I don't think he is the +man Winslow is. Now, Maggie, advise me about the suit. I don't want to +look like the escaped fat lady of a museum." + +Lorania thought no more of Sibyl's love affairs. If she thought of the +Winslows, it was to wish that Mrs. Winslow would sell or rent her +pasture, which, in addition to her own and Mrs. Ellis' pastures thrown +into one, would make such a delightful bicycle track. + +The Winslow house was very different from the two villas that were the +pride of Fairport. A little story and a half cottage peeped out on the +road behind the tall maples that were planted when Winslow was a boy. +But there was a wonderful green velvet lawn, and the tulips and sweet +peas and pansies that blazed softly nearer the house were as beautiful +as those over which Miss Lorania's gardener toiled and worried. + +Mrs. Winslow was a little woman who showed the fierce struggle of her +early life only in the deeper lines between her delicate eyebrows and +the expression of melancholy patience in her brown eyes. + +She always wore a widow's cap and a black gown. In the mornings she +donned a blue figured apron of stout and serviceable stuff; in the +afternoon, an apron of that sheer white lawn used by bishops and smart +young waitresses. Of an afternoon, in warm weather, she was accustomed +to sit on the eastern piazza, next to the Hopkins place, and rock as she +sewed. She was thus sitting and sewing when she beheld an extraordinary +procession cross the Hopkins lawn. First marched the tall trainer, Shuey +Cardigan, who worked by day in the Lossing furniture factory, and gave +bicycle lessons at the armory evenings. He was clad in a white sweater +and buff leggings, and was wheeling a lady's bicycle. Behind him walked +Miss Hopkins in a gray suit, the skirt of which only came to her +ankles--she, always so dignified in her toilets. + +"Land's sakes!" gasped Mrs. Winslow, "if she ain't going to ride a bike! +Well, what next?" + +What really happened next was the sneaking (for no other word does +justice to the cautious and circuitous movements of her) of Mrs. Winslow +to the stable, which had one window facing the Hopkins pasture. No cows +were grazing in the pasture. All around the grassy plateau twinkled a +broad brownish-yellow track. At one side of this track a bench had been +placed, and a table, pleasing to the eye, with jugs and glasses. Mrs. +Ellis, in a suit of the same undignified brevity and ease as Miss +Hopkins', sat on the bench supporting her own wheel. Shuey Cardigan was +drawn up to his full six feet of strength, and, one arm in the air, was +explaining the theory of the balance of power. It was an uncanny moment +to Lorania. She eyed the glistening, restless thing that slipped beneath +her hand, and her fingers trembled. If she could have fled in secret she +would. But since flight was not possible, she assumed a firm expression. +Mrs. Ellis wore a smile of studied and sickly cheerfulness. + +"Don't you think it is very _high_?" said Lorania. "I can _never_ get up +on it!" + +"It will be by the block at first," said Shuey, in the soothing tones of +a jockey to a nervous horse; "it's easy by the block. And I'll be +steadying it, of course." + +"Don't they have any with larger saddles? It is a _very_ small saddle." + +"They're all of a size. It wouldn't look sporty larger; it would look +like a special make. Yous wouldn't want a special make." + +Lorania thought that she would be thankful for a special make, but she +suppressed the unsportsmanlike thought. "The pedals are very small, too, +Cardigan. Are you _sure_ they can hold me?" + +"They could hold two of ye, Miss Hopkins. Now sit aisy and graceful as +ye would on your chair at home, hold the shoulders back, and toe in a +bit on the pedals--ye won't be skinning your ankles so much then--and +hold your foot up ready to get the other pedal. Hold light on the +steering-bar. Push off hard. _Now!_" + +"Will you hold me? I'm going--Oh, it's like riding an earthquake!" + +Here Shuey made a run, letting the wheel have its own wild way--to teach +the balance. "Keep the front wheel under you!" he cried cheerfully. +"Niver mind _where_ you go. Keep a-pedalling; whatever you do, keep +a-pedalling!" + +"But I haven't got but one pedal!" gasped the rider. + +"Ye lost it?" + +"No; I _never had_ but one! Oh, don't let me fall!" + +"Oh, ye lost it in the beginning; now, then, I'll hold it steady, and +you get both feet right. Here we go!" + +Swaying frightfully from side to side, and wrenched from capsizing the +wheel by the full exercise of Shuey's great muscles, Miss Hopkins reeled +over the track. At short intervals she lost her pedals, and her feet, +for some strange reason, instead of seeking the lost, simply curled up +as if afraid of being hit. She gripped the steering-handles with an iron +grasp, and her turns were such as an engine makes. Nevertheless Shuey +got her up the track for some hundred feet, and then by a herculean +sweep turned her round and rolled her back to the block. It was at this +painful moment, when her whole being was concentrated on the effort to +keep from toppling against Shuey, and even more to keep from toppling +away from him, that Lorania's strained gaze suddenly fell on the +frightened and sympathetic face of Mrs. Winslow. The good woman saw no +fun in the spectacle, but rather an awful risk to life and limb. Their +eyes met. Not a change passed over Miss Hopkins' features; but she +looked up as soon as she was safe on the ground, and smiled. In a +moment, before Mrs. Winslow could decide whether to run or to stand her +ground, she saw the cyclist approaching--on foot. + +"Won't you come in and sit down?" she said, smiling. "We are trying our +new wheels." + +And because she did not know how to refuse, Mrs. Winslow suffered +herself to be handed over the fence. She sat on the bench beside Miss +Hopkins in the prim attitude which had pertained to gentility in her +youth, her hands loosely clasping each other, her feet crossed at the +ankles. + +"It's an awful sight, ain't it?" she breathed, "those little shiny +things; I don't see how you ever git on them." + +"I don't," said Miss Hopkins. "The only way I shall ever learn to start +off is to start without the pedals. Does your son ride, Mrs. Winslow?" + +"No, ma'am," said Mrs. Winslow; "but he knows how. When he was a boy +nothing would do but he must have a bicycle, one of those things most as +big as a mill wheel, and if you fell off you broke yourself somewhere, +sure. I always expected he'd be brought home in pieces. So I don't think +he'd have any manner of difficulty. Why, look at your friend; she's most +riding alone!" + +"She could always do everything better than I," cried Lorania, with +ungrudging admiration. "See how she jumps off! Now I can't jump off any +more than I can jump on. It seems so ridiculous to be told to press hard +on the pedal on the side where you want to jump, and swing your further +leg over first, and cut a kind of figure eight with your legs, and turn +your wheel the way you don't want to go--all at once. While I'm trying +to think of all those directions I always fall off. I got that wheel +only yesterday, and fell before I even got away from the block. One of +my arms looks like a Persian ribbon." + +Mrs. Winslow cried out in unfeigned sympathy. She wished Miss Hopkins +would use her linament that she used for Cyril when he was hurt by the +burglars at the bank; he was bruised "terrible." + +"That must have been an awful time to you," said Lorania, looking with +more interest than she had ever felt on the meek little woman; and she +noticed the tremble in the decorously clasped hands. + +"Yes, ma'am," was all she said. + +"I've often looked over at you on the piazza, and thought how cozy you +looked. Mr. Winslow always seems to be home evenings." + +"Yes, ma'am. We sit a great deal on the piazza. Cyril's a good boy; he +wa'n't nine when his father died; and he's been like a man helping me. +There never was a boy had such willing little feet. And he'd set right +there on the steps and pat my slipper and say what he'd git me when he +got to earning money; and he's got me every last thing, foolish and all, +that he said. There's that black satin gown, a sin and a shame for a +plain body like me, but he would git it. Cyril's got a beautiful +disposition, too, jest like his pa's, and he's a handy man about the +house, and prompt at his meals. I wonder sometimes if Cyril was to git +married if his wife would mind his running over now and then and setting +with me awhile." + +She was speaking more rapidly, and her eyes strayed wistfully over to +the Hopkins piazza, where Sibyl was sitting with the young soldier. +Lorania looked at her pityingly. + +"Why, surely," said she. + +"Mothers have kinder selfish feelings," said Mrs. Winslow, moistening +her lips and drawing a quick breath, still watching the girl on the +piazza. "It's so sweet and peaceful for them, they forget their sons may +want something more. But it's kinder hard giving all your little +comforts up at once when you've had him right with you so long, and +could cook just what he liked, and go right into his room nights if he +coughed. It's all right, all right, but it's kinder hard. And beautiful +young ladies that have had everything all their lives might--might not +understand that a homespun old mother isn't wanting to force herself on +them at all when they have company, and they have no call to fear it." + +There was no doubt, however obscure the words seemed, that Mrs. Winslow +had a clear purpose in her mind, nor that she was tremendously in +earnest. Little blotches of red dabbled her cheeks, her breath came more +quickly, and she swallowed between her words. Lorania could see the +quiver in the muscles of her throat. She clasped her hands tight lest +they should shake. "He is in love with Sibyl," thought Lorania. "The +poor woman!" She felt sorry for her, and she spoke gently and +reassuringly: + +"No girl with a good heart can help feeling tenderly toward her +husband's mother." + +Mrs. Winslow nodded. "You're real comforting," said she. She was silent +a moment, and then said, in a different tone: "You ain't got a large +enough track. Wouldn't you like to have our pasture too?" + +Lorania expressed her gratitude, and invited the Winslows to see the +practice. + +"My niece will come out to-morrow," she said, graciously. + +"Yes? She is a real fine-appearing young lady," said Mrs. Winslow. + +Both the cyclists exulted. Neither of them, however, was prepared to +behold the track made and the fence down the very next morning when they +came out, about ten o'clock, to the west side of Miss Hopkins' +boundaries. + +"As sure as you live, Maggie," exclaimed Lorania, eagerly, "he's got it +all done! Now, that is something like a lover. I only hope his heart +won't be bruised as black and blue as I am with the wheel!" + +"Shuey says the only harm your falls do you is to take away your +confidence," said Mrs. Ellis. + +"He wouldn't say so if he could see my _knees_!" retorted Miss Hopkins. + +Mrs. Ellis, it will be observed, sheered away from the love affairs of +Mr. Cyril Winslow. She had not yet made up her mind. And Mrs. Ellis, who +had been married, did not jump at conclusions regarding the heart of man +so readily as her spinster friend. She preferred to talk of the bicycle. +Nor did Miss Hopkins refuse the subject. To her at this moment the most +important object on the globe was the shining machine which she would +allow no hand but hers to oil and dust. Both Mrs. Ellis and she were +simply prostrated (as to their mental powers) by this new sport. They +could not think nor talk nor read of anything but _the wheel_. + +Between their accidents, they obtained glimpses of an exquisite +exhilaration. And there was also to be counted the approval of their +consciences, for they felt that no Turkish bath could wring out moisture +from their systems like half an hour's pumping at the bicycle treadles. +Lorania during the month had ridden through one bottle of liniment and +two of witch hazel, and by the end of the second bottle could ride a +short distance alone. But Lorania could not yet dismount unassisted, and +several times she had felled poor Winslow to the earth when he rashly +adventured to stop her. Captain Carr had a peculiar, graceful fling of +the arm, catching the saddle bar with one hand while he steadied the +handles with the other. He did not hesitate in the least to grab +Lorania's belt if necessary. But poor modest Winslow, who fell upon the +wheel and dared not touch the hem of a lady's bicycle skirt, was as one +in the path of a cyclone, and appeared daily in a fresh pair of white +trousers. + +"Yous have now," Shuey remarked impressively, one day--"yous have now +arrived at the most difficult and dangerous period in learning the +wheel. It's similar to a baby when it's first learned to walk but ain't +yet got sense in walking. When it was little it would stay put wherever +ye put it, and it didn't know enough to go by itself, which is similar +to you. When I was holding ye you couldn't fall, but now you're off +alone depindent on yourself, object-struck by every tree, taking most +of the pasture to turn in, and not able to git off save by falling--" + +"Oh, couldn't you go with her somehow?" exclaimed Mrs. Winslow, appalled +at the picture. "Wouldn't a rope round her be some help? I used to put +it round Cyril when he was learning to walk." + +"Well, no, ma'am," said Shuey, patiently. "Don't you be scared; the +riding will come; she's getting on grandly. And ye should see Mr. +Winslow. 'Tis a pleasure to teach him. He rode in one lesson. I ain't +learning him nothing but tricks now." + +"But, Mr. Winslow, why don't you ride here--with us?" said Sibyl, with +her coquettish and flattering smile. "We're always hearing of your +beautiful riding. Are we never to see it?" + +"I think Mr. Winslow is waiting for that swell English cycle suit that I +hear about," said the captain, grinning; and Winslow grew red to his +eyelids. + +Lorania gave an indignant side glance at Sibyl. Why need the girl make +game of an honest man who loved her? Sibyl was biting her lips and +darting side glances at the captain. She called the pasture practice +slow, but she seemed, nevertheless, to enjoy herself sitting on the +bench, the captain on one side and Winslow on the other, rattling off +her girlish jokes, while her aunt and Mrs. Ellis, with the anxious, set +faces of the beginner, were pedalling frantically after Cardigan. +Lorania began to pity Winslow, for it was growing plain to her that +Sibyl and the captain understood each other. She thought that even if +Sibyl did care for the soldier, she need not be so careless of Winslow's +feelings. She talked with the cashier herself, trying to make amends for +Sibyl's absorption in the other man, and she admired the fortitude that +concealed the pain that he must feel. It became quite the expected thing +for the Winslows to be present at the practice; but Winslow had not yet +appeared on his wheel. He used to bring a box of candy with him, or +rather three boxes--one for each lady, he said--and a box of peppermints +for his mother. He was always very attentive to his mother. + +"And fancy, Aunt Margaret," laughed Sibyl, "he has asked both auntie and +me to the theater. He is not going to compromise himself by singling one +of us out. He's a careful soul. By the way, Aunt Margaret, Mrs. Winslow +was telling me yesterday that I am the image of auntie at my age. Am I? +Do I look like her? Was she as slender as I?" + +"Almost," said Mrs. Ellis, who was not so inflexibly truthful as her +friend. + +"No, Sibyl," said Lorania, with a deep, deep sigh, "I was always plump; +I was a chubby _child_! And oh, what do you think I heard in the crowd +at Manly's once? One woman said to another, 'Miss Hopkins has got a +wheel.' 'Miss Sibyl?' said the other. 'No; the stout Miss Hopkins,' said +the first creature; and the second--" Lorania groaned. + +"What _did_ she say to make you feel that way?" + +"She said--she said, 'Oh, my!'" answered Lorania, with a dying look. + +"Well, she was horrid," said Mrs. Ellis; "but you know you have grown +thin. Come on; let's ride!" + +"I _never_ shall be able to ride," said Lorania, gloomily. "I can get +on, but I can't get off. And they've taken off the brake, so I can't +stop. And I'm object-struck by everything I look at. Some day I shall +look down hill. Well, my will's in the lower drawer of the mahogany +desk." + +Perhaps Lorania had an occult inkling of the future. For this is what +happened: That evening Winslow rode on to the track in his new English +bicycle suit, which had just come. He hoped that he didn't look like a +fool in those queer clothes. But the instant he entered the pasture he +saw something that drove everything else out of his head, and made him +bend over the steering-bar and race madly across the green; Miss +Hopkins' bicycle was running away down hill! Cardigan, on foot, was +pelting obliquely, in the hopeless thought to intercept her, while Mrs. +Ellis, who was reeling over the ground with her own bicycle, wheeled as +rapidly as she could to the brow of the hill, where she tumbled off, +and, abandoning the wheel, rushed on foot to her friend's rescue. + +She was only in time to see a flash of silver and ebony and a streak of +brown dart before her vision and swim down the hill like a bird. Lorania +was still in the saddle, pedalling from sheer force of habit, and +clinging to the handle-bars. Below the hill was a stone wall, and +farther was the creek. There was a narrow opening in the wall where the +cattle went down to drink; if she could steer through that she would +have nothing worse than soft water and mud; but there was not one +chance in a thousand that she could pass that narrow space. Mrs. +Winslow, horror-stricken, watched the rescuer, who evidently was cutting +across to catch the bicycle. + +"He's riding out of sight!" thought Shuey, in the rear. He himself did +not slacken his speed, although he could not be in time for the +catastrophe. Suddenly he stiffened; Winslow was close to the runaway +wheel. + +"Grab her!" yelled Shuey. "Grab her by the belt! _Oh, Lord!_" + +The exclamation exploded like the groan of a shell. For while Winslow's +bicycling was all that could be wished, and he flung himself in the path +of the on-coming wheel with marvelous celerity and precision, he had not +the power to withstand the never yet revealed number of pounds carried +by Miss Lorania, impelled by the rapid descent and gathering momentum at +every whirl. They met; he caught her; but instantly he was rolling down +the steep incline and she was doubled up on the grass. He crashed +sickeningly against the stone wall; she lay stunned and still on the +sod; and their friends, with beating hearts, slid down to them. Mrs. +Winslow was on the brow of the hill. She blesses Shuey to this day for +the shout he sent up, "Nobody killed, and I guess no bones broken." + + * * * * * + +When Margaret went home that evening, having seen her friend safely in +bed, not much the worse for her fall, she was told that Cardigan wished +to see her. Shuey produced something from his pocket, saying: "I picked +this up on the hill, ma'am, after the accident. It maybe belongs to him, +or it maybe belongs to her; I'm thinking the safest way is to just give +it to you." He handed Mrs. Ellis a tiny gold-framed miniature of Lorania +in a red leather case. + + * * * * * + +The morning was a sparkling June morning, dewy and fragrant, and the +sunlight burnished the handles and pedals of the friends' bicycles +standing on the piazza unheeded. It was the hour for morning practice, +but Miss Hopkins slept in her chamber, and Mrs. Ellis sat in the little +parlor adjoining, and thought. + +She did not look surprised at the maid's announcement that Mrs. Winslow +begged to see her for a few moments. Mrs. Winslow was pale. She was a +good sketch of discomfort on the very edge of her chair, clad in the +black silk which she wore Sundays, her head crowned with her bonnet of +state, and her hands stiff in a pair of new gloves. + +"I hope you'll excuse me not sending up a card," she began. "Cyril got +me some going on a year ago, and I _thought_ I could lay my hand right +on 'em, but I'm so nervous this morning I hunted all over, and they +wasn't anywhere. I won't keep you. I jest wanted to ask if you picked up +anything--a little red Russia-leather case--" + +"Was it a miniature--a miniature of my friend Miss Hopkins?" + +"I thought it all over, and I came to explain. You no doubt think it +strange; and I can assure you that my son never let any human being look +at that picture. I never knew about it myself till it was lost and he +got up out of his bed--he ain't hardly able to walk--and staggered over +here to look for it, and I followed him; and so he _had_ to tell me. He +had it painted from a picture that came out in the papers. He felt it +was an awful liberty. But--you don't know how my boy feels, Mrs. Ellis; +he has worshipped that woman for years. He ain't never had a thought of +anybody but her since they was children in school; and yet's he's been +so modest and so shy of pushing himself forward that he didn't do a +thing until I put him on to help you with this bicycle." + +Margaret Ellis did not know what to say. She thought of the marquis; and +Mrs. Winslow poured out her story: "He ain't never said a word to me +till this morning. But don't I _know_? Don't I know who looked out so +careful for her investments? Don't I know who was always looking out for +her interest--silent, and always keeping himself in the background? Why, +she couldn't even buy a cow that he wa'n't looking round to see that she +got a good one! 'Twas him saw the gardener, and kept him from buying +that cow with tuberculosis, 'cause he knew about the herd. He knew by +finding out. He worshipped the very cows she owned, you may say, and +I've seen him patting and feeding up her dogs; it's to our house that +big mastiff always goes every night. Mrs. Ellis, it ain't often that a +woman gits love such as my son is offering, only he da'sn't offer it, +and it ain't often a woman is loved by such a good man as my son. He +ain't got any bad habits; he'll die before he wrongs anybody; and he +has got the sweetest temper you ever see; and he's the tidiest man about +a house you could ask, and the promptest about meals." + +Mrs. Ellis looked at her flushed face, and sent another flood of color +into it, for she said, "Mrs. Winslow, I don't know how much good I may +be able to do, but I am on your side." + +Her eyes followed the little black figure when it crossed the lawn. She +wondered whether her advice was good, for she had counseled that Winslow +come over in the evening. + +"Maggie," said a voice. Lorania was in the doorway. "Maggie," she said, +"I ought to tell you that I heard every word." + +"Then _I_ can tell _you_," cried Mrs. Ellis, "that he is fifty times +more of a man than the marquis, and loves you fifty thousand times +better!" + +Lorania made no answer, not even by a look. What she felt Mrs. Ellis +could not guess. Nor was she any wiser when Winslow appeared at her +gate, just as the sun was setting. + +"I didn't think I would better intrude on Miss Hopkins," said he, "but +perhaps you could tell me how she is this evening. My mother told me +how kind you were, and perhaps you--you would advise me if I might +venture to send Miss Hopkins some flowers." + +Out of the kindness of her heart Mrs. Ellis averted her eyes from his +face; thus she was able to perceive Lorania saunter out of the Hopkins +gate. So changed was she by the bicycle practice that, wrapped in her +niece's shawl, she made Margaret think of the girl. An inspiration +flashed to her; she knew the cashier's dependence on his eye-glasses, +and he was not wearing them. + +"If you want to know how Miss Hopkins is, why not speak to her niece +now?" she said. + +He started. He saw Miss Sibyl, as he supposed, and he went swiftly down +the street. "Miss Sibyl," he began, "may I ask how is your aunt?"--and +then she turned. + +She blushed, then she laughed aloud. "Has the bicycle done so much for +me?" said she. + +"The bicycle didn't need to do _anything_ for you!" he cried, warmly. + +Mrs. Ellis, a little distance in the rear, heard, turned, and walked +thoughtfully away. "They're off," said she--she had acquired a sporting +tinge of thought from Shuey Cardigan. "If with that start he can't make +the running, it's a wonder." + +"I have invited Mr. Winslow and his mother to dinner," said Miss +Hopkins, in the morning. "Will you come too, Maggie?" + +"I'll back him against the marquis," thought Margaret, gleefully. + +A week later Lorania said: "I really think I must be getting thinner. +Fancy Mr. Winslow, who is so clear-sighted, mistaking me for Sibyl! He +says--I told him how I had suffered from my figure--he says it can't be +what he has suffered from his. Do you think him so very short, Maggie? +Of course he isn't tall, but he has an elegant figure, I think, and I +never saw anywhere such a rider!" + +Mrs. Ellis answered, heartily: "He isn't very small, and he is a +beautiful figure on the wheel!" And added to herself, "I know what was +in that letter she sent yesterday to the marquis! But to think of its +all being due to the bicycle!" + + + + +THE SPELLBINDER + + +Not long since the writer had occasion to pass through the scene of this +story. It would be hard to find anywhere a more pleasant and prosperous +land. Fertile fields and shady country roads and pastures where sleek +cattle are contentedly grazing; great stacks of green alfalfa; +farmhouses with flowers and vines, as well as thriving kitchen gardens; +windmills that pipe houses with water as well as fill the barn troughs; +automobiles and good roads--there could hardly be a greater contrast. +And it is pleasant to hear that the pioneers who suffered incredible +hardships during the lean years are now reaping the reward of their +toil, courage and versatile, indomitable ingenuity. + + * * * * * + +The frozen soil rattled under the horses' hoofs; the wagon wheels +rattled on their own account. A December wind was keen enough to make +the driver wrap his patched quilt closer and pull his battered straw hat +lower over his ears. He was a man of thirty, with high, tanned features +and eyes that would have been handsome but for their sullen frown. + +"I should call it getting good and ready for a blizzard," observed the +other man on the board (seat the wagon had none); "maybe he won't come." + +"He'll come fast enough," returned the driver; "you don't catch buzzards +staying in for weather!" + +"I don't know. He's a pretty luxurious young scoundrel. Bixby says he +had a letter from him--very particular about a fire in his room, and +plenty of hot water and towels. Bixby is worried lest the boys make a +fuss with him in his hotel." + +"Bixby is a coward from Wayback," was the driver's single comment or +reply. The other man eyed the dark profile at his shoulder, out of the +tail of his eye rubbing his hands up and down his wrists under his +frayed sleeves. He was a young man, shorter of stature than the driver. +He had a round, genial, tanned face, and a bad cold on him. His hands +were bare because he had lent his mittens to the driver; but he wore a +warm, if shabby greatcoat and a worn fur cap. + +"I don't suppose," he said in a careless tone, "you fellows mean to do +more than scare the lad well." + +"We scared the last man. Doc Russell got him fairly paralyzed; told him +'bout the Shylock that turned out the Kinneys, and Miss Kinney's dying +in the wagon, she was so weak; and Kin--somebody ('course he didn't +mention names) shooting that man; and their arresting Kinney, and the +jury acquitting him without leaving the box. Oh, he told a lot of +stories. Some of 'em, I guess, he made up out of his own head; but that +Iowa lawyer swallered the whole batch, hide and hoofs and all. And he +couldn't git out of town quick enough! But what's the good? Here's this +young dude come again. Say, did you know it's his pa that owns most of +the stock in the trust?" + +"No?" + +"Yes, sir. He's got the upper hand of 'em all. They've bought up every +last bit of foreclosed land 'round here. Yes, we was so mighty smart, we +fixed it that nobody'd dare to buy; and nobody 'round here _would_ dare, +even s'posing they got the money, which they ain't--" + +"There certainly ain't much loose money 'round here, Wesley. At least, +when I ran the paper I didn't find it; I was glad to rent an abandoned +farm and trade my subscription list for enough corn to pay the first +instalment on some stock and a cultivator." + +"Did you pay any more?" + +"No; times got worse instead of better. I'd have lost the stock and the +cultivator and every blamed thing in the way of implement I've got if it +hadn't been for you fellows running the implement man out of the +country; he'd a chattel mortgage that was a terror. But what were you +saying about the land? Nobody would buy?" + +"Of course nobody would buy, and we hugged ourselves we was so durned +slick. Oh, my! Now, here comes along one of them bloody trusts that's +eating this country up, and goes to the land company and buys the +foreclosed land for a song. It goes all the cheaper because its known +far and wide that we elected the sheriff not to enforce writs, but to +resist 'em; and the same with all the officers; and we're ready to shoot +down any man that tries to push us off the earth. That scared folks, and +the investment company sold cheap as dirt. They knew they couldn't git +anybody to take up a farm 'round here. Look a' there!" He jerked the +point of the switch that served for whip in the direction of a dark +bulk looming against the glowing belt of red in the west. The outlines +of a ruined chimney toppled over the misshapen roof. The door and window +openings gaped forlornly; doors and windows were gone long since, +wrenched off for other needs. Bit by bit the house had been nibbled +at--here a porch platform taken, there a patch of weather-boarding, +shingles pulled from the roof, the corn crib a wreck, the outbuildings +carried away piece-meal--until, a sadder ruin than fire leaves, it faced +the sunset and the prairie. + +"That farm belonged to as hard-working, smart a feller as ever handled a +plow. Look at them fields, gone to desolation like everything else, but +the furrows used to be as straight's a line with a ruler. He fought the +hard times and the drought till his wife died, and then he said to me, +'I'm beat; I'm going to take the baby back to Winnie's folks. If I'd +only gone last year I could have took Winnie, too. The company kin have +my farm, and I hope to God it'll be the curse to them it's been to me!' +There the farm is. And look further down"--shifting the switch to +another direction--"there's another dropping to pieces. Lord, when I +think of the stories they told me about the crops when I fust came and +put in four hundred dollars that I'd worked hard for in a saw-mill, and +I think how we used to set 'round the fire evenings, my wife and I, +talking about how the town was a-growing and what it would be when the +trees was growed and our children was going to school, and how we'd have +a cabinet organ and we'd have a top buggy, and we'd send for her mother, +who didn't jest like it with Bill's wife--we was jest like children, +making believe! But that ain't what I was driving at. Here it is. We +calculated that we'd be let alone, because the poor, miserable remnants +of stock and machines and farms we got simply wasn't worth outside folks +taking, and inside folks wouldn't risk their lives by dispossessing us. +That's how we sized it up, ain't it?" + +"I don't see yet what you're after, Wesley." + +"You will. We reasoned that way. But along comes this company, +this--trust, that's clean against the laws and don't give a curse for +that, and it buys up the whole outfit. I tell you, Mr. Robbins, there +ain't five men in this community that that trust ain't got the legal +right to turn out on the prairies to-morrow. They've all been +foreclosed, and the year of grace is up. Most of us here ain't got no +show at all--legally. And so they send a man down here to see about +gitting out writs and finishing us up." + +"But who'll they get to buy, Wesley Orr?" + +"They're not needing much buying. They're on to a new scheme--going to +turn all these farms into big pastures and fatten cattle with alfalfa, +raise it and ship it; then the lower part of the county, down below +town, they intend to run a ditch through from the river and irrigate it. +They will fetch in a colony who'll pay them about ten times what they +paid, I expect, and--" + +"But we won't let them--" + +"Depends on how many guns the colony's got and how much fight there's in +it. They'll try it, anyhow, unless--" + +"Unless--" repeated Robbins uneasily. + +"Unless they're scared off, _unless they think it's death for a man to +tackle us_." + +Robbins rubbed his hands harder; he bit his lip. A little space of +silence fell between them. Off to the south, where the little town was +set like an island in the darkening prairie, the lights began to +twinkle; they were yellow and scattered. Even at that distance one +could tell that they burned few to the house. + +"I kinder wish," said Robbins, "that he came from another town." + +"What's the difference about the town?" + +"Oh, none, I guess. But that town, it's in Iowa, and it sent the best +things we've ever had. One woman put in a lot of jams and jellies and +tea--such tea! My wife was sick then, and I didn't know but I'd lose +her. I gave her some of that tea and some jam, and she began to pick up +from that day. It was a quince jam, and made her think of home, she +said. Her father was a Connecticut man, and they had an orchard with +quince trees in it--I remember--" He did not finish the sentence, but he +sighed as he absently ran his eye over the gaps in the harness mended +with rope. + +"I bet _he_ didn't have nothing to do with that box," said Orr; "most +like, the people sent us that were poor folks themselves, and had to +pinch to make up for the things they sent us. 'Tain't the rich people +are sorriest for poor folks. This young Wallace--his father's the owner +of a big paper, and rich besides, and he's got this boy in training for +editor; and when that first duck couldn't do nothing out here, the old +man said he'd buy in, and the young one thought it a mighty smart thing +to do to come over here and turn a lot of half-starved women and +children out in winter. What's _he_ care? What do any of these rich +folks care?" + +"I don't think you're fair, Wesley," said Robbins. "All the rich folks +aren't mean. I know more about them than you." He spoke with a dawning +of pride in his tone, which deepened a little. + +"Yes, I know you used to belong to them," said Orr, "and I guess you +were decent to the poor. But you'll admit you didn't have no notion how +it cuts to work every muscle in you and to lay awake thinking yourself +half crazy to puzzle out better ways to make money and yet to feel every +year you're a-sinking deeper in the slough! I've worked five years here, +and 'cepting the first year, every single year has piled interest on the +mortgage. Every year we've had less clothes to wear and poorer stuff to +eat, and it's been mend instead of buy, and we've had more debts and +more worries every year. I tell you, Mr. Robbins, I thought it would +_kill_ me, once, to come on the county. I'd 'a' said I'd starve first; +but you can't see your wife and children starve. I went in last winter, +and asked for relief. I'd that old hound dog of mine with me; you knowed +him. He'd been a good dog. He come with us when we come here, running +under the wagon. All the children had played with him. I took him into +town, and I asked every one I knowed would he have that dog for a gift; +I showed off all his tricks, feeling like I was dirty mean deceiving +him, for I done it so somebody would be willing to take him home and +feed him and take care of him, for it's God's truth I hadn't enough for +him and the children too. But nobody wanted him; he was pretty old, and +he wasn't never handsome. And one store I was in, as I went out I heard +a drummer that was trying to sell goods say, 'I saw that feller at the +Relief, but I notice he's able to keep a dog. Lets the children go +hungry ruther'n the dog, I guess.' I kinder turned on him, then I turned +back again, and I whistled to Sport, and I looked at him and saw how his +ribs showed and his eyes was kinder sunk. He wagged his tail and yelped +like he used to, seeing me look at him; and then I went straight to that +drug-store Billy used to keep--Billy Harvey. He moved away last year; +he was a good friend of mine. I said to him, 'Billy, you got something +that would kill a dog in a flash, so he'd never suffer or know what hurt +him?' And Billy--he understood, and he said he had. 'You jest put it on +his tongue and he'd never know what killed him.' Billy was sorry for me. +He gave it to me for nothing, and he gave me some bones and corn bread +and milk; so Sport had a good dinner. And he come right up to me and +looked me in the eyes, wagging his tail. His eyes was kinder dim, but +they was just as loving as ever. And he was wagging his tail when he +dropped. Then I went home, and the children asked me where was Sport, +and little Peggy cried--oh, Lord!" + +"It was awful hard on you, Wesley," said Robbins gently. + +"I suppose it wasn't nothing to what some men have suffered. There was +poor Tommy Walker, give up his farm when it was foreclosed--thought he +had to--and went off tramping to Kansas City, and after he'd tramped a +week there, looking for a job, give it up and jumped into the river. And +you know how old man Osgood killed himself, honest a old man as ever +lived; always kept his machines under cover, too; _he_ couldn't stand +it. They found it harder--and lots more, too; but I've found it hard +enough. And I know I'd shoot that sneaking, sneering young Shylock, and +not mind it near so much as I minded killing poor Sport." + +"I don't know but we'd all better quit," said the younger man with a +sigh. "This isn't a living country. Three years of drought would break +any country up. It's not meant to live in. We had a fair crop this year, +but it's so low; and freights, though they're lower, are pretty high. I +don't see any way out of it. And I declare I think if we run this young +fellow off we'll only get a bad name for the place." + +"I don't care for bad names," said the other sullenly. "I got a wife and +three children; I was foreclosed a year ago--so's you, so's a lot of the +boys; we're at the end of our string now--legally. So what did we say? +We said we didn't care, was it legal or illegal; that laws was made to +skin the poor man; and we elected a sheriff we could depend on not to +enforce the laws, and we druv off the bloodsuckers they sent out here. +They say one feller was killed. I don't know. Guess that's one of Doc +Russell's stories. The boys talk a lot about the cause of all this here +trouble, and how we're going to have a revolution, and how referendum +and initiendum will help, and how free silver will help--I guess, +myself, a little more rain three years ago when corn was up would have +helped more'n anything--and they talk how they're fighting the battles +of the poor man, and the Eastern bloodsuckers has ruined us, and the +Shylocks are devouring us, and they holler the roof off. I listen to +'em, but I don't believe 'em any more than you do." + +"But," interrupted the other man eagerly, "I voted with the people's +party--" + +"Of course you did. We was going to be unanimous, and you dass'n't stand +out; but you didn't believe in it. Me neither. I ain't makin' any +pretense, but I'll tell you it's jest here--I'm down to bed-rock. If I +let my farm be took away and my stock, what's going to become of my wife +and children? You can call it stealing, or resisting the law, or +anything you please, but I'll kill that feller before I'll let him turn +me out." + +"Don't you think we can scare him off? Killing's a nasty word." + +"My father was with John Brown; he helped kill a man. He never lost no +sleep about it; I shan't neither. Look here, Mr. Robbins, I got lots of +time to think, winters--lots. Remorse and all them fine feelings you +read of, they don't belong to folks that are way down in the dirt. You +got to have something to eat and wear, and not have your stomach sassing +you, and you half froze most of the time; when your body is in sech a +fix it's keeping your mind so full there ain't any show for any other +feelings. And look a' here, there's worse"--his voice sank. "Why, you +git to that pass you ain't able to feel for your own wife and babies. +When this morning Peggy kept hushing the baby, and she was fretting and +moaning, and Peggy says to me, couldn't I git a little crackers in town; +maybe the baby could eat them? I didn't feel nothing 'cept a numb +aching. I kept saying, 'I'd 'a' felt that, once!' But I didn't feel it +now. And, all of a sudden, it come to me 'twas because I was gitting +_past_ feeling--like you do when you're froze, jest before you die. I +read a story once, when I was a little shaver, that kept me awake nights +many a time. It was about a Russian nobleman out sleigh-riding with his +children, three of 'em, on one of them steppes; and the wolves chased +them. The father had a pistol, and he would shoot one of the wolves, and +then the cowardly cusses would stop to tear the wounded critter to +pieces and eat him, giving the folks in the sleigh a little more time; +but every time the distance between the wolves and them when they +stopped was a little smaller; but they were getting closer to the town, +and they could see the lights. So the father, he kept on shooting, until +the wolves were jumping up and grabbing at the sleigh, and the last time +he shot a wolf he used up his last cartridge; then, when they come after +him again, when the lights were nearer, and he knew if he could stop 'em +once more he could escape, he--he throwed out one of the children; +because it was this way: if he jumped out himself the children were so +little they couldn't drive, and they'd be tipped up, and all three of +them lost, so he throwed out the child he loved the best, and they got +to town safely; but he went raving crazy. Well, I thought of him, and I +said, if baby died there'd be the more chance for the others--" + +"Look here, Wesley," his companion interrupted, "_quit it_! You're +getting light-headed. Get rid of such fool thoughts as those or you'll +be going off to the insane asylum; and mighty little use your family +will have of you _there_!" + +Orr gave him no answer. Robbins watched his impassive face and frowned. + +"He's not bad-hearted, but he's desperate. You can't appeal to a +desperate man," he thought, "and the other boys are the same way. +There'll be wild work there to-night, unless that young fool has the +papers with him and will give them up. You're a fool, George Robbins, to +mix yourself up in it on the chance of getting a few dollars from a +Kansas City paper for a telegram!" + +Silently the two men looked at the nearing lights, while the wagon +creaked and swayed and rattled over the road. + +"We got to save the lantern to go home by," Orr remarked at last, "else +I'd light up; they ain't got any more lights in the streets. But I guess +we can see." + +There were enough lights in the windows to reveal the wide untidiness of +the street, the black, boarded windows of the empty shops, the gaps in +the sidewalk, the haggard gardens, where savage winds had blown the +heart out of deserted rose-trees and geraniums. In general the sky-line +was low and the roofs the simplest peaks; but it was broken in a few +places by three and four storied brick buildings of the florid pomp on +which a raw Western town loves to lavish its money. Now they loomed, +dark and silent, landmarks of vanished ambition. Robbins, who was a man +of parts and education, with a fanciful turn, felt the air of defeat and +desolation hanging over the town choke him like miasma. To him the +dreariness was the more poignant for the half a dozen little shops that +still flickered their challenge to fate in the guise of a dim coal-oil +lamp in the window. There appeared to be no customers at these dismal +marts; in some cases not even the shop-keeper was visible, and only the +stove in the rear of the room kept a lonesome red eye on the shelves. +The sole sparks of life in the place were at the hotel. It had been +built "during the boom"--a large rectangle of wood, with a cheap and +gaudy piazza, all painted four shades of green, which the climate had +burned and blistered and bleached into one sickly, mottled brown. Long +ago the stables of the hostelry had been abandoned, but this night the +stable yard was full of wagons. + +The upper story of the hotel was dark, and the greater part of the lower +story; but the kitchen was bright, and yellow light leaked through every +chink and crack in the office blinds. + +"Boys have turned out well, I guess," said Robbins. + +"They _better_ turn out!" said Orr. + +No word was spoken by either while they unhitched their horses, led them +within the sheds, and tied them among the sorry company already housed. +Robbins noted that after Orr had laid the blanket which had served them +for robe on one thin back, he flung his own quilt over the other. Then +they stumbled (for they were unwieldy with cold) through the yard to the +hotel. + +The office was full of men, gathered about the stove, talking to each +other. The innkeeper sat behind his counter, affecting to busy himself +with a blotted ledger. Originally he had been a stout man, but he had +lost flesh of late years. He was wrinkled and flabby, and the furtive +eyeshots that he cast toward the stove were anxious beyond his +concealing. Any one, however, could perceive that matters of heavy +import were being discussed. The miserably clad men about the stove all +looked sullen. There was none of the easy-going badinage so habitual +with Westerners. They exchanged glances rather than words; what words +were spoken were uttered in low tones. + +"Where is he?" said Orr, in the same undertone to a large man in a +buffalo coat. The large man was the sheriff of the county. He jerked his +thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the dining-room. + +"What's he like?" + +"Little feller with a game leg." + +Orr frowned. Robbins felt uncomfortable. A gaunt man on the outskirts of +the circle added: "He's powerful slick, though; you can bet your life. +That girl Susy is all won over already; and she's suspecting something, +sure's shooting. I guess she's warned him there's something in the air." + +"Well, if there is, I don't know it," said the sheriff. + +"You never _will_ know anything about it, either," a gray-haired man +added. + +"That's right, Kinney," two or three spoke at once. But immediately a +silence fell on them. Robbins, who felt himself an outsider, could see +that the others drew closer together. Once or twice he caught sinister +murmurs. He began to wish that he had not come. + +"It would be no earthly use for me to chip in and try to soften them," +he thought. "They're crazy with defeat and misery and the fool stuff +campaign orators have crammed down their throats." + +Just then the dining-room door opened, and Robbins was the only one of +the group to turn his head. The other men gazed at the fire, and the +heavy silence grew heavier. + +The man who came out of the room was young, slight of figure, and he +limped a little. Nevertheless, there was nothing of dejection in his +bearing or his face. He was freckled to a degree, smooth-shaven, and his +teeth were beautiful. He had fine eyes also, a deep blue, flashing like +steel as they moved from one object to another. The eyes were keen, +alert, and determined; but being set rather wide apart under his light +brows, they gave the face a candid, almost artless, look, and when he +smiled the deep dimple in his cheek made it as merry as a child's. + +"Good evening, gentlemen," said he cheerfully. No one responded. Robbins +made a gurgle in his throat, which the newcomer generously accepted for +salutation, promptly approaching the fire at Robbins' elbow. + +"Cold weather," said he. Two or three of the company lifted their heads +and eyed the speaker. Robbins wondered were they as keenly conscious as +he of the young fellow's trimly fitted clothes, what good quality that +rough plaided brown stuff was, how dainty was his linen. He looked at +the home people's ragged coats, he thought of the poverty that he knew, +and the reflection of a sneer was on his own lips, and, somehow, a lump +in his throat. + +"Too cold weather for folks to travel unless they're wanted bad!" said +the gray-haired man on the edge of the company. There was a thrill of +some strong feeling in his deep voice. + +"It does seem that way," agreed the young man with undiminished +vivacity. "I am glad to get to a shelter. By the way, I hear this is a +dry town. Will some of you gentlemen have something with me?" He had +pulled out a flask and was flashing his brilliant smile at Robbins. + +"No, thank you, I don't drink," said Robbins; but he felt his throat +itching at the sight. + +"We'll drink your licker after we've finished our business with you," +the gray man struck in. He was old Captain Sparks, who had been very +bitter since his eldest son went crazy with overwork and sunstroke and +killed himself. The other men laughed. They looked at each other; they +looked with goading hate in their dull eyes at the stranger; and they +laughed. + +"Here, Johnny," said the young man, taking no notice, "run up to +twenty-five and fetch me the bag there, the black one. If we are to +drink to our business, I want you all to join. You are all interested, I +take it? And get some glasses while you are about it." + +The boy whom he addressed, the landlord's son, a lad of twelve, had been +busy staring at the stranger ever since he entered the room. He ran +away, but as he ran could not restrain himself from flinging one or two +glances back over his shoulder. + +"Don't you smoke, either?" said the stranger to Robbins, his hand to his +breast pocket. + +"Only a pipe," answered Robbins. He wished that he didn't feel an +absurd, morbid sympathy for the poor fool's pluck sneaking into his +consciousness. + +"What are we waiting for?" The captain whispered it to a mild-eyed, +short-bearded man next him; but the captain's whisper carried far. "Aw, +give him rope!" suggested the mild-eyed man; "maybe he ain't so sandy's +he seems." + +Not seeming to recognize any chill in his reception, the young stranger +approached the stove. No one moved to admit him to the inner circle; +this, also, he did not seem to observe. "This whole country looks as if +you had been having hard times," he continued. His voice had full, rich, +magnetic notes, but its unfamiliar intonations jarred on his hearers; +they knew them to belong to the East, and they hated the East. "It's +pretty sad to ride through miles and miles of farming country and see +the burned fence-posts that caught fire from the cinders, just lying +where they fell, and the smoke not coming out of one farm-house chimney +in six. It looks as if the farmers out this way had simply given up the +fight." + +"You've hit it," said the mild-eyed man; "they have. Some of them have +moved away and some of them have killed themselves, after they've lost +their stock on chattel mortgages and lost their land to the improvement +company. There ought to be lots of ghosts on those abandoned farms and +in those houses where the fences are down. This country is full of +ghosts. We ain't much better than ghosts ourselves." + +"It was the three dry years, I suppose." + +"That and the mortgage sharks and the Shylocks from the East," old +Captain Sparks interrupted in a venomous tone; "what pickings the +drought left they got." + +"Pretty rough!" said the stranger, declining the combat again. "There's +one man I want to meet here; his name is Russell--Doctor Russell." + +The mild-eyed man explained that his name was Russell; the other men +looked puzzled and suspicious. "What's his little game?" whispered the +captain. "It won't go, whatever it is," said the man next him. Robbins +heard question and answer distinctly; but the young fellow near him did +not wince. "Are you the one that wrote to Fairport, Doctor Russell? I +guess you must be." + +"Yes, I wrote to Fairport," said Russell. + +"Well, I hope you liked the barrel we sent, and the boxes. They were +going to send them to another place, but your letter decided us. That's +my church, you know, which sent them. And, for that matter, it was your +letter first turned my father's attention to investing in your part of +the country. Oh, tell me, where did that tea go? My mother _would_ send +her best London mixture--" + +"Was it your mother?" Robbins spoke. With a red face and a flash of his +eyes at the sullen group about him, he withdrew his chair, making a +clear passage to the stove. "I'd like to thank her, then, and her son +for her; that tea and that quince jam--whose was the quince jam?" + +"I rather think my mother put that in, too." + +"Well, it almost cured my wife; it was better than medicine, that and +the tea, for, not to mention that we couldn't get any medicine, it put +heart into her as medicine couldn't. I wonder was it your mother, or who +was it put in that volume of college songs? _I_ got that. You wouldn't +think it, but I'm a university man--Harvard--" + +The young fellow caught his hand and gripped it hard. "Harvard? So am +I--Martin Wallace, '92." + +"My name is George Robbins, and I'm a good deal farther back; and, as +you can see, I'm down on my luck. But there's no need going into my +hard-luck story; it's like a lot of our stories here. You see where we +are--hardly shoes to our feet; not because we have been shiftless or +idle, or have wronged anybody; yet the cutthroats and thieves in the +penitentiary have had better fare and suffered less with cold and hunger +than we have. And it's not that we are fools, either; we're not +uneducated. There are at least three other college men in our community; +there's Doc Russell--" + +"I _am_," drawled Russell; "much good it's done me; but I won honors at +the University of Iowa." + +"I didn't win any honors, but I went to the State University--was +graduated there before I went to Harvard. But--you aren't Teddy Russell, +Teddy Russell of the Glee Club and the football eleven?" + +"Yes, I am Teddy Russell." + +"E. D. Russell, of course; why didn't I guess? You were there two years +before me, but I daresay they are talking of you still; and the way you +won a touchdown with a broken rib on you, and the time all the rest of +the Glee Club missed the train at Fairport, going to Lone Tree, and you +went on with the banjoes and were the whole thing for three-quarters of +an hour! Well, I'm glad to meet you, Doctor. Let us have a good song or +two together after business." + +Russell unconsciously felt for the cravat which was not round his soiled +and frayed collar; he buttoned his wreck of a frock coat. "Yes, we +will," he began, but his voice stuck in his throat as the captain's +rough grasp gripped his arm. + +"I guess not," said the captain; "business first, young feller!" + +Russell shook off the hand, muttering something too low for Robbins' +ear; but Robbins sidled nearer to him, so near that he was able to +exchange a single glance and to see Russell's lips form the words, +"Watch Orr!" They understood each other. + +"Weren't you from Ann Arbor yourself, Captain?" said Robbins, grabbing +at any straw of peace. + +"I've been too poor ever since the war to remember whether I ever had a +college education or not," retorted the captain with a sneer. "I belong +to the people now; their cause is my cause. Where do _you_ belong? We've +tended your folks when you were sick, and helped you lay by your crops, +and driven the mortgage sharks off your stuff. Say, what are you doing +now? Are you monkeying around to turn traitor or coward, or what's the +matter?" + +"We're all right, Captain," answered Russell, the western burr on his +tongue as soft and leisurely as ever, and no hint of excitement in his +manner; "but I see no harm in letting Mr. Wallace answer our questions +before we fly off the handle." So saying, before the captain realized +his purpose he edged through the crowd to Wallace's side. Robbins +followed him; and the eyes of all the others turned to the three +menacing and eager. + +"All I ask is to answer questions and to make my proposition to you," +said Wallace, his fearless young eyes running round the circle. "If you +don't like it you can refuse and send me home--to make other +arrangements." + +"No, we ain't going to send you home," said Orr. It was the first time +that he had spoken. Wallace flashed a keen glance at him and spoke his +next words directly to him. "But I'm sure you won't want to do it. You +see, I'm your last chance and you _have_ to examine it!" + +They had not expected such an answer. A little vibration ran like a wave +over the gaunt, ferociously attentive faces. Wallace's eyes were fixed +on Orr's face, which did not change. Orr's hand was in the breast of his +ragged waistcoat. + +"You people have certainly had the devil's own time and through no fault +of yours, unless it's a fault that you aren't quitters!" + +"That's right," said Robbins. Orr's eyes narrowed a little. Wallace +continued, not taking his own eyes off the farmer's: + +"This country is all right when there's a good year, but the good years +come so seldom! What you fellows need down here is not free silver, but +free water. With plenty of water you can raise big crops; and down in +this valley there is not the danger, if we dig ditches, of the river +running dry; we can get--" + +"And who'll pay for irrigation?" a voice demanded. Wallace did not shift +his gaze to the speaker; he talked to Orr as if Orr were the only man in +the room: "We expect to furnish the money." + +"And what will happen till the ditches are digged?" + +"There's alfalfa to be raised on all these abandoned fields." + +"And what's to become of _us_?" said Orr. "I can see where you folks can +git a holt and come out even; but what's going to become of us? Are we +to move off the earth and let you stay here?" + +Every one listened for Wallace's answer. Even the boy in the doorway, +returning with Wallace's bag, stood half scared at the foot of the +stairs, not daring to go forward. + +"Why not stay and take pot luck with us?" said Wallace, coolly. "We +bought the mortgages cheap, and we'll sell them cheap. We'll sell water +rights cheap also. And you will make better colonists than any we could +import--cheaper, too. It's for our interests as well as yours to make a +deal with you and to make one that will be satisfactory. Isn't it?" + +Orr's hand dropped to his side, he shuffled his feet, his eyes turned +from Wallace to seek the captain. "I hadn't figured it out you was going +to make any such proposition," said the captain. + +"Perhaps you thought we intended to chuck you all out in the cold and +hog everything. We are neither such pigs nor such fools. You fellows can +help us more than anybody else. Here is Johnny. Now, let's come to +business; but first, Johnny, get some glasses. We'll all drink to the +new deal." + +And afterwards they told with chuckles how even the captain, who was an +original Prohibitionist before he became a Populist, touched his lips to +the glass that was passed over the big map. + +"All you folks here need is _hope_," said the cheerful young Iowan; "you +have plenty of pluck and plenty of sense and oodles of experience; and +we stand ready to put in the capital. Now, what do you say; does it go?" + +After an hour of talk over the maps, he repeated the question, and the +captain himself led the chorus, "It goes. We'll all stand by you!" + +The blizzard had not come, and the moon was shining when George Robbins +and Wesley Orr drove home from town. A basket was carefully held on +Orr's knees. Robbins was caroling the chorus to "Johnny Harvard" and +wishing a health to him and his true love at the top of a hoarse and +husky voice. Orr looked solemnly ahead into the little wavering disk of +radiance that their lantern cast. Once he shivered violently, but he was +not cold. Suddenly he spoke. There was a quiver in his face and his +voice, but all he said was: "Say, he was dead right. We was so desperate +we was crazy. Hope, that was what we needed, and he give it to us; but +how some fellers would have messed that job, getting round to that same +proposal we all wanted to hug him for! And--I'm glad he didn't. I'm +almighty glad we didn't git a chance to do what we set out to do. He was +slick. Say, what is it they call them newspaper boys? Spellbinders? +That's him--a first-class, A-number-one spellbinder!" + + + + +THE OBJECT OF THE FEDERATION + + +"I joined a woman's club in the Federation a little over two years ago," +said Mrs. Hardy. "I didn't know what was the object then; and to tell +you the truth, I am no wiser now." + +"You know as much as I," was her neighbor's reply, politely given, the +neighbor, however, feeling no real interest, at the moment, in anything +outside the approaching election of president, and the gossip regarding +a possible "dark horse" which was buzzing behind her, between some +better informed members of the delegation. + +The babble of mighty waters is like the noise that filled the theater. +It surged from the plant-bedecked platform (where it might be likened to +nothing more resonant than the hum of insects of a summer night) through +the auditorium, to the dais under the balconies. The dais was noisy, +always, not because its occupants were any more inclined to talk than +other women, but because it was the rarest thing in the world for them +to hear anyone either on the stage or the floor; and generally, they had +to vote by their eyes, watching the advocates of their pet measures; and +rising or sitting by their example; hence they solaced themselves with +conversation. + +At this moment, however, the quiet gentlewoman with the gavel, behind +the long table, had not lifted her hand; and the upper part of the hall +(which being in good hearing distance, was used to keep silence and +criticise the talkers) was as busy with tongues and hands as its +neighbors. So Mrs. Hardy, smiling a little at her neighbor's absent +glance, listened until her thoughts wandered far afield. She only half +caught the enthusiasm of the neighbor to her right, over an address on +village improvement, or the indignation of the dames to the left, who +were rehearsing the political baseness of Massachusetts. She was +recalling a day thirty-three years ago. She did not see the secretary +behind the table, whispering to the president; she did not notice a +little group to the left near where the silk banner of Massachusetts +fluttered, putting their heads together and gesticulating above their +whispers. She forgot her surroundings and saw only a tall young man +whose ardent eyes sank as they met her own, a handsome young fellow, who +caught her hand in his, as they sat alone in the carriage, driving to +the depot, and kissed the fingers and the wedding-ring, crying out he +was not half good enough for her. "He was in love with me, _then_!" she +thought. But now? Well, it was not to be expected a man with a great +business and cares and money to think about and political affairs (for +they were importuning Darius to go to the senate) should be paying +romantic compliments to his middle-aged wife. Nevertheless, Darius had +never forgotten their anniversary until last year. On her reminding him, +he had whistled and laughed. "So it is," says he, "we ought to spend it +together; it's a shame I have to go to Chicago; why don't you come with +me?" + +Smiling (yet a foolish something not merry was twitching at her nerves), +she had declined. But she made a good excuse; Darius never guessed that +she was so silly as to mind; and he brought her a sweet pigeon-blood +ruby ring, set in diamonds, from Chicago; and he kissed her when he +slipped it on her finger--kissed her cheek, not her hand. She wondered, +at this minute, why she should wish that he had kissed the hand instead; +an elderly woman ought to be content with a calm, assured, faithful +affection, and let beautiful youngsters have the frills. That evening, +she planned a dinner carefully to his liking, and she would not let +herself be disappointed when he brought a political magnate, who talked +politics, from the terrapin to the coffee. She smiled again, as she +thought how much more of interest she would have found in the +conversation, to-day, after the club's year on Our Colonial Policies. +This last anniversary Darius had clean forgotten. In fact, he had +advised her to go to the Federation meeting; saying, lightly, that it +came at an opportune moment because he must be away that week, himself. +"Milwaukee is a pretty city," he ended amiably, "and there will be lots +of hen-functions and you'll enjoy yourself; but what's the object of it +all, your Federation?" + +"I don't know"--she astonished him with her frank levity--"when I do, +I'll tell you." + +"Well, don't get into any rows you can help," said he easily; "want any +more money? Got plenty?" + +"Plenty, thank you," said she, "although I am going to be rather +extravagant and get some very smart toilets." + +He looked over his glasses at her; and she was not able to decipher his +smile. Didn't he approve of her clothes? She sent her fine eyes into the +mirror of her dressing-table, after he had gone, and studied the picture +there with a frown and a smile, at last with a moisture over her eyes. + +But, although he said nothing, when she next examined her bank-book she +found her credit larger. "Maybe he _does_ like my spending more money on +my gowns," she thought. + +She went to Milwaukee. She did not remind him of the anniversary. She +said to herself that she would seriously try to discover the object of +the Federation; then she would tell Darius. Her daughter-in-law +accompanied her, and her daughter was to meet her. "Quite a family +party," said her son; "well, I hope you girls will have a good lark! +And, I say, Hester, find out what it's all about--if you can!" + +At first, Myrtle Hardy was more bewildered than excited. The scene was +unlike anything in her experience. The hotels glittering with feminine +finery and humming with feminine voices; the placards over doorways in +rotundas or corridors, announcing headquarters; the vast crooning bulk +of the lake, the iridescent gleam of water that came to one in glimpses +as one was whirled down the wide and breeze-swept avenues, amid a dazzle +of lovely fabrics and smiling faces, blooming like flowers in swiftly +passing victorias or rattling cabs, or rippling over the sidewalks into +the wide vestibules where Milwaukee welcomed her guests; the noisy rush +of the city; the ceaseless rattle and clang of the electric-cars which +were like an orchestral accompaniment to the magnetic excitement pulsing +under the decorous calm of the meetings, in the flower-decked theaters, +or eddying through the foyer; these at first dazed the woman unused to +clubs. But only for a brief time. Presently, she began to be consulted; +her advice was asked; she made a speech in a meeting of the state +delegation. There was, in the speech, her natural clear sense--which +goes for something always and everywhere--there was, also, the mark in +voice and speech and pose, of her years' training with the teachers. "I +believe you could be heard all right, in the theater," said the +president of the state delegation, afterward, "will you make a motion +or two for us, this afternoon?" She made the motions; and, strangely +enough, she wasn't so frightened as she had been in the state +delegation; in fact, she proposed a simple short cut through an +unnecessary dilemma with not much feeling beyond wonderment that so many +clever women could get themselves into such a tangle. The applause and +delight of her companions of the delegation touched her. "I'm in it, +again," she thought, railing at her own vanity, but curiously pleased. +Now, her thoughts were back, groping through the years when she was not +"in it." Not the days of her youth, not at all; she had been the leader +of her mates, an ingenious, tolerant, easy-going leader, admired and +loved, shining among them by right of two years in an eastern +boarding-school and a trip to Europe. + +Not in her early married life, either; although, at first, Darius was +poor and the great wagon manufactory was but a daring experiment. In +those days she knew all her husband's hopes and plans as well as his +troubles. He used to say, often, that she had a good business head. +Those days they lived in a little brown wooden house with a five-foot +piazza; and Darius mowed the tiny lawn himself; and she put up her own +preserves and made all the children's clothes--pretty clothes they were, +too; she was a housewife whose praise was in all the churches. But it +does not follow that she had ceased to be a leader, far from it; she was +the president of the "Ladies' Sewing Society" of her church; and of the +first woman's club, classically named the "Clionian." She was a +progressive spirit; she it was who introduced the regular motion into +the business meetings; before her reign it having been the artless +custom of the societies to talk until the discussion either languished +or grew too violent, when some promoter of harmony would call out, "Let +us put it to vote," whereupon there would be a few timid ayes and a +self-respecting silence instead of no; and the measure would be adopted. +Pertaining to this custom was an inevitable sequel of plaintive +criticism from all the modest souls who "didn't like to speak," but who +were full of foreboding wisdom. Myrtle Hardy was one of the few who +could speak; and she was considered to speak very much to the point. +Those days, she was keenly interested in all the life of a young, +hopeful, bustling little western city. She belonged to a musical +society and would rise at five in the morning to practice, and she was +one of an anxious band of women who had bought a library and were +running an amateur entertainment bureau to support it. Then, Darrie was +in home-made knickerbockers; Myrtie was a sweet, little, loving hoyden +who was her mother's despair because she would climb trees in her white +frocks; Ralph was a baby, and the two little girls that died were their +mother's tiny helpers, with the willingest little hands and feet. +Sitting there in the crowded and noisy theater, a quiver ran over the +mother's face. Her friends had forgotten, the brothers and sisters had +forgotten, even Darius seemed to forget; but, day and night, she +remembered the eager little faces, lighting so happily at her praise, +the shining little heads that used to nestle against her heart. The two +died of scarlet fever in one terrible week. In that week, the first gray +threads had crept into Myrtle Hardy's beautiful brown hair. She was +nurse and comforter and helper, then, to Darius. She felt her eyes cloud +with the vision of him, as he flung himself on the babies' little bed, +sobbing in the terrible, racking passion of a man's grief. "Not now, +dear, not now, not till the others are safe," she had whispered; "we +have them still; they need us." + +She wondered was it after the babies went that she began to drop out of +things. Somehow she was so busy comforting Darius and nursing the others +back to health, and crowding back her own ceaseless grief out of sight; +and thinking of cheerful things to say and new interests for the others, +that the library passed out of corporate existence and into endowed rest +with hardly a thought from her. Nearly at the same time, the musical +society perished in a cataclysm, due to the sensitive musical +temperament, and the literary society died of inanition, after browsing +through literature from Milton to Dante; and after each member had +written one or two papers, thus sating the natural curiosity of the +other members. Myrtle did not lift a hand to save either of the +societies. She heard the wrathful accusations of the musical warriors, +and put in the unappreciated word for peace, but did not resent its +failure. She consoled the literary mourners with the reflection that +they could read up about things in the magazines or the books of the new +library; and masked her secret listlessness with perfunctory regret. +Long after, she came to wonder whether it was not she who went into +prison, then; rather than the world that left her on one side. Did she +not gently but rigidly exclude the friends who would have called upon +her and shut herself apart with her own? Continually, she used to pray +for cheerfuless, for patience; but it never occurred to her to pray for +interest. When other societies were formed, she did not care to join +them; she followed her own advice and read apart by herself. By and by, +although so much more of a personage, she was no longer beset with +invitations. The younger women organized a new club with new methods; +and Myrtle Hardy read her books, peacefully, on her wide piazzas, amid +her plants and flowers. When Myrtie came back from college, Darius asked +her wasn't she going to help Myrtie by joining the club with her? + +"Dear, no," said she, blithely, "they are all so young." + +"Why don't you get up a club of your own, then, and take in the other +left outs?" said he. + +"I don't fancy women's clubs much; you know I did belong to them; they +are half-baked things, and they take their own improvement with such +deadly seriousness. And it is such a smattering that you get in them. A +smattering is always forgotten; unless you know a lot about a thing you +forget it all." + +"Oh, well, you know best what you like," said Darius, easily; "I only +thought you seemed a little dull." He dropped the subject; but she +repeated his words, often to herself; he never had thought her dull, +before. She noticed that Myrtie did not talk of her club. She was +puzzled. Outwardly, Myrtie was a handsome young woman with a highbred +repose of manner which she had acquired as a college editor and the +protector of new girls; inwardly, she was still shy, desperately in +dread of awkwardness, and brimming with enthusiasms. Not until she was +about to be married did her mother find a trace of her little girl in +this gently haughty young creature. And, then, there remained only +Myrtie's last photographs and Myrtie's empty chamber, and the weekly +letters for her mother's hungry heart. "I am not sure I know her," she +would often muse, those days, "I am only sure she doesn't know me!" + +Myrtie lived in Chicago; she had married very well indeed; and had a +prosperous husband who was a graduate of Harvard and dallied with +reform; and there were two sweet little children who called Mrs. Hardy +"Granny"; and Myrtie always consulted her mother when they were ill; she +was a devoted daughter. "When my dear mother was alive," said Mrs. +Hardy, smiling rather grimly, "grannies were not very nice old cronies +who smoked pipes in the chimney corner; and 'Grandma' was good enough +for any grandmother; now, 'Grandma' is provincial and _I_ am a granny, +myself. It is a little puzzling." + +The children were all out of the house, now. Ralph, the youngest, was at +college; she was well acquainted with him; she used to write him about +the books she read and he wrote her about the boys and football; she +knew a great deal about football. She lived in a stately new colonial +house with quaint little window-panes wherever they would not obstruct +the view, and snowy tiled bath-rooms, such as no colonial ever knew; and +terraces decked with pink and blue hydrangeas; and dazzling window +gardens. Myrtie had been as kind as possible about the house; and +Myrtie's taste was charming; it had been an education in colonial +history as well as architecture to have Myrtie help build the house; +even the architect was deferential to her. Across the street was +Darrie's less costly but no less correctly charming house. Hester had +done Myrtie's architectural bidding, also. Darrie was the best of sons. +She was proud of him; and his father depended more and more on him. She +loved his wife; and his children were her vivid delight. Darrie used to +fetch her flowers and new plants for the window gardens; and tell her +about the children's funny sayings. Darius, her husband, grew kinder and +more generous all the time; he gave her a check-book of her own; she +told her old friends that she had the best husband and children in the +world; and that she was a grateful woman; she duly remembered her +abundant mercies in her prayers; and yet--and yet she began to feel +herself retired. A most respectable position, that of a retired officer; +but, somehow, generals and admirals do not covet it. Nor did Myrtle +Hardy. She had been in the center of her own stage; now she felt herself +most gently, most civilly, pushed into the wings. Her daughter-in-law, +with all her admiration and her dutiful respect, had interests which she +never discussed; had a point of view and ideals which were outside her +comprehension. She felt fatigued and puzzled when she heard the younger +generation's familiar speech with itself. "I am not in it," she said to +herself. Darius, too, no longer consulted her; the old fashion of +confidence had somehow slipped away; he had not very much to say when +they were alone; and he was beginning to call her "Mother." Myrtle Hardy +considered. She thought for weeks and thought hard. She sat in her +sewing-room, up-stairs, where were the only two rocking-chairs that +Myrtie's impeccable taste had allowed to abide in the house. She sat +first in one and then in the other of the chairs, her needlework +unheeded in her lap; and watched her little grandson and his sister +playing while the nurse made an interminable German lace on the back +porch; and just across from her window, Hester, her daughter-in-law, sat +amid a heap of books, reading and making notes. "That child has been +studying for three months, every spare moment, on her paper about +'Scientific Plumbing in the Modern Mansion.'" Mrs. Hardy muttered, with +a frown, "well, I hope she will know something, if she keeps her mind! +That was not the way we prepared club papers in my day; we decided on +our subjects one meeting and we read our essays on them the next; and +two weeks was enough for us; now, they spend a half year making a +programme and have it hanging over them a year in advance." She watched +her daughter-in-law, smiling grimly; then, suddenly, she rose, with the +motion of one who has come to a decision. "At least they are not +superficial, nowadays," she said, "and perhaps it is better to take +one's self too seriously than not seriously enough. And after all, +Hester did find out what was the matter with the laundry faucets." + +One day she told her daughter-in-law that she wanted to join a class in +parliamentary law. + +"But we haven't any," objected Mrs. Darius Hardy, Jr., meekly. + +"Then get up one," said the one time president of clubs. "Get all you +can to join a class, send for a teacher, and I will make up the deficit, +in the subscription list." + +A parliamentary teacher of renown came. She was also a teacher of +expression--that was her poetical word. Hester caught her breath the +first time her mother-in-law rose in the class to "speak to the motion." +She embraced her with beaming eyes and the prettiest rose of delight on +her cheeks. "Oh, how did you learn it?" she sighed, happily, "you are +the best of us all!" + +"I took some private lessons in Chicago," said Mrs. Hardy--her quiet +manner did not betray an unexpected thrill. + +"You're _beautiful_!" cried Hester. + +After that, Hester always seconded her mother-in-law's motions; and +fought in the mimic debates as valiantly on her side as a natural +reticence would let her. It was odd (to Mrs. Hardy) what a different +relation grew up between them; a sense of comradeship and the pleasures +of partisanship, wherein it is not only the leader who exults in the +winning fray, the follower has a simpler and a nobler joy. The first +natural consequence of Hester's admiration was that she begged her +mother-in-law to join her club. Before the end of the year, Mrs. Hardy +was elected president of the club; before the end of the next year, she +was burrowing in books and magazines, as absorbed as Hester, in the +conduct of Great Britain to her colonies. She found herself suddenly +interested in the newspapers; Darrie talked politics with her; and they +were no longer unintelligible. + +"Whew, isn't mother getting cultivated!" Darius whispered to his boy; +and they both grinned. + +"She's growing handsomer, too," said Darius the younger. + +"I hope she won't go to any of those fakirs in the newspapers who paint +you all over, so's you crack when you laugh," commented Darius, +anxiously, "and, say, Darrie, there's a way they have, nowadays, of +burning off your skin and giving you a new skin--they call it being +'_done over_'; it must be frightful torture--I'm not going to have your +mother's face sizzled up, that fashion." + +"She doesn't need it; mother's skin is lovely," said the loyal son. + +"Her not needing it is no reason why she won't want it--being a +woman--Darrie. Your mother is the most sensible woman in the world, +Darrie; but she's a woman. And I'm not sure whether a woman ought to +monkey with her age, the way mother is doing. What do you suppose I saw +with my own eyes, yesterday? There was mother, swinging her arms over +her head and bowing like a heathen Chinee, until her slender fingers +touched the floor; and then she went to kicking over the chairs--high +kicks!" + +"Oh, that's only Delsarte--they only do that to limber up and make +themselves graceful. Hetty can kick the chandelier." + +Myrtle caught echoes of this conversation; and was base enough to listen +behind her sewing-room curtains, giving no sign. It was true that a +change had come over her, and that her mirror reflected smarter toilets, +a different carriage, and a fresher charm. For one reason, she looked +younger because she was much more cheerful. "I am a child with a new +toy," she would say to herself. But there is no question that she found +a pungent enjoyment in her new activity. One of the perpetual wonders of +life is how small a figure the stake cuts in the game. It is infinitely +more exciting to make money, for example, than to have it. To keep our +souls in repair they need exercise; and the vicissitudes, the emotions, +the excitement of a career, happily do not depend on the size of the +stage. The great stake, the large stage, count; but they count less than +their claims. What comes to more than the pomp of success (as the vulgar +name an intangible thing) is the elation of using all one's powers; nor +is there any tawdry applause comparable to the rich and fine content of +accomplishment. But often Myrtle caught Darius's pondering eyes and +wondered to herself what he was thinking. Really, Darius was +experiencing the rather piquant emotions of a man who discovers an +entirely new creature in his own wife. By a natural transition his +thoughts went back to the days when he was courting Myrtle Danforth, and +"couldn't make her out;" by an equally natural process of selection, he +fumbled through dim passages in his soul, striving to see the relation +between this assured and graceful woman of affairs and the joyous young +beauty that he had won, the high-hearted comrade of his poverty and +struggles, the tender comforter of his sorrows. A hundred little +trivial, affecting incidents rose out of the hazy years to gripe his +heart. He felt a novel shyness, however; and the only token of his +feelings (outside the check-book) was a habit he had fallen into of +watching his wife when she was not looking. + +Of course, she was aware of it; she was thinking of it at this moment, +while the Massachusetts woman behind her unpacked her conscience on her +nearest Indiana neighbor. + +"And how does Indiana stand?" said the evangelist, finally. + +"Well, if you ask _me_," said the Indianian, wearily, "we have troubles +of our own; and we are not thinking much about it!" + +At this, her companion (also from Massachusetts, but with a sense of +humor), giggled and essayed to cover her indecorum by asking Mrs. Hardy +if she had attended the industrial sessions. "I have tried to go to +them," she confessed, later, after they had become confidential. "My +husband is a manufacturer, and I was anxious to see whether they would +try to get light on the questions that they are tackling, or would +simply form an opinion beforehand and talk about it." + +"Well, how did they strike you?" + +"They didn't strike me at all; I went to two of them; but the first one, +two southern acquaintances of mine lured me out into a committee-room, +to tell me the dreadful things Massachusetts was going to do about the +color question--not one of which had entered our heads, by the way--and +the other meeting, I sat back in the hall and couldn't hear anything, +and a Massachusetts friend came in, very calm but deeply excited, and +got me out in the hall to tell me the plots of the Georgia delegation. +Between them, I didn't hear a word of the industrial question. I'm told +Missouri has been studying preventive legislation in regard to woman and +child labor for the last year; what did they decide to recommend?" + +"Well," said Mrs. Hardy, drily, "you see they were studying for a +_year_; if they had taken the subject for a month or two, no doubt they +would have had opinions; but as it was, they didn't recommend anything. +But what you say about the sessions made me think. I find that there are +two classes of delegates, those who are interested in the meetings and +those who simply go to the meetings to get a better chance to pull +wires. It makes me more at sea than ever about the object of the +federation. What do _you_ think it is?" + +The Massachusetts woman meditated. She was a handsome woman, a woman +with ancestors, it was evident, for the blue and gold of the Colonial +Dames badge, and the enamel star and scarlet ribbon of the Order of +Colonial Governors illuminated the white chiffon of her bodice; and +there were five bars on the scarlet ribbon. "My idea of the object is +simply that it is a clearing-house," said she; "and so far it is +democratic, for it brings us all together; and I," said the descendant +of governors and warriors, "_I'm_ democratic. Look at us. It is not only +that we represent so many different classes, we represent so many +sections of the country. In fact, about this color question, I feel that +it is more important for the north and the south to get acquainted and +friendly, working together, than it is for us to give the opportunities +of the federation to a few colored people." + +"I don't look at it that way, it is a question of right and wrong"--thus +the ardent soul from Massachusetts unfurled her banner to the +breeze--"are you going to do what is right or what is expedient?" The +smouldering fire which had made the deck hot walking all through the +meetings, showed signs of breaking out of cover; everybody in hearing +craned her neck; there were murmurs of approval and polite sniffings of +dissent to the right and to the left. The Massachusetts woman said +"Life is a compromise;" and shrugged her shoulders. Mrs. Hardy put up +the white flag in a mild sentence: "Mrs. Lowe is calling us to order, I +think." + + * * * * * + +The convention had passed safely to the ballot. The opposition had +sprung its mines; and the regulars had discharged their heavy artillery +behind the proper parliamentary subterfuges. The undecided voters had, +as usual, asked to take back their ballots, and as usual had been +refused. The excitement had risen until it showed in white or flushed +faces and strained voices, in clapping, and hisses; but the chairman's +inscrutable calm never changed, and through it all she held the +convention perfectly in hand. + +Two men had safely run the gauntlet of ticket takers, and were seated in +the lower gallery. They were a middle-aged man, dark, portly, carefully +dressed in silver-gray tweeds, with a silk shirt; and a young man, dark, +slender, in a lighter suit, with a stiff white collar on his pink +negligee shirt. There was an air of distinction about both men; they +looked to be men of importance in their own locality, men accustomed to +command and deference; but nothing of gentler modesty and meekness than +their demeanor can be imagined. They shrank back in their seats and sat +close to each other, as one will observe timid children sitting, who +have wandered into a strange house. + +"You--you don't suppose they will put us out? eh, Darrie?" said the +elder, in a low voice, "not _now_?" + +"Of course not," responded Darrie, with simulated lightness; "look there +to the left, there's Myrtie. That president is a good presiding officer; +you would not guess all this row is over her, she's absolutely +impartial--by Jove!" + +"What's the matter? Do you see mother anywhere?" + +"No, sir; did you catch that, the secretary's explanation of the +parliamentary question? Pretty clear, I call it; but they're getting in +all their points, I observe, working questions of privilege for all they +are worth." + +"Very clever, very clever," assented Darius; "there's Hester, mother +isn't with _her_; you don't suppose mother would stay away, this +afternoon?" + +"Never; this is the election afternoon." + +"Myrtie said mother was very much admired and sought after, lots of +invitations; maybe she has gone out to some tea--" + +"They wouldn't have anything this afternoon; don't you see how keyed up +they all are?" + +"I thought I was monstrous clever planning all this," pursued Darius, +with a knitted brow; "your mother forgot this was our anniversary, but I +didn't; I have her present in my pocket; and the dinner ordered; and I +was expecting to surprise her; but if she isn't here--she couldn't have +gone _home_?" + +"Of course not--there she is, don't you see her? looking fresh as +paint!" + +A lady had risen, her voice, mellow and clear, dove through the sonorous +buzz of the hall. + +"Why it's _mother_!" cried Darius, "and if she isn't taking an appeal +from the chair; mother has her nerve with her, to-day." + +Darrie grinned; but as he watched his father's face kindle, his own +changed; he laid his hand on his father's, nodding, softly: "I tell you, +mother's _great_," said he. + +"That little dark-eyed lady is speaking on mother's side"--Darius was +leaning forward with excited interest--"isn't she a pretty creature, +she's little--but, oh my! How clearly she puts it; these southerners +have a natural gift of oratory. Don't think much of that woman who's +trying to call mother down!" + +He was as eager as a boy, the man whose cool head and hard sense had won +him a great fortune; his eyes glistened, the color crept into his cheek; +and he drew a long sigh when the appeal was withdrawn. "Very pretty, +Darrie," he said, "appeal withdrawn, but they have got in their work on +the voters; chairman had to decide against her own friends, and did it +like a Roman soldier. The extraordinary thing to me, Darrie, is how well +they are all keeping their temper. Darrie, didn't you think mother's +voice was good when she spoke; how'd she learn to speak so well?" + +"Oh, she took lessons," returned Darrie, easily; "Hester got her into +them; Hester and mother are great pals." + +"I know; Hester's a remarkable girl, Darrie; she has always appreciated +your mother. Begun again, have they? Started something else while the +ballots are counted. Like a continuous show, isn't it?" + +He listened with a slackened zest while the questions of reorganization +and details of the duties of chairmen pattered through the hour, the +rain after the thunder-storm. Then, unexpectedly, Mrs. Hardy made her +little speech. It was an excellent little speech, good-natured, full of +sense, and with a dash of humor. At first, she was a little nervous, but +she was too interested in her subject to be nervous more than an +instant. Had she known of the presence of two auditors in the gallery, +perhaps her composure had wavered. There could be no doubt regarding +their agitation. They turned pale and clutched each other; then, first +on Darrie's, next on his father's features, dawned and spread a light of +exceeding confidence; with shameless effrontery--considering their +relationship--they stimulated the applause; they beamed over the hits; +and at the close they were radiant. Without a word Darius held out his +hand to his son, who wrung it. Then, they both took a long, long breath +of relief and satisfaction. Darius was the first to speak: "My son," +said he, "I have known your mother for forty years and have been her +husband for thirty-three, but she can surprise me still!" + +"Mother certainly _is_ great," assented Darrie, solemnly; he added his +own little feather of marital triumph: "Hetty always told me so," said +he. + +"Look at those women all around her," said Darius, "patting her on the +shoulder and whispering; _they_ know. Darrie, I'll bet you anything, +there hasn't been another speech in this convention that has put things +as clearly as mother's." + + * * * * * + +Myrtle started when she saw her husband and son smiling in the doorway. +Her daughter-in-law was on one side, her daughter on the other, half a +dozen of her delegation radiated complacency in her wake. "Hasn't she +covered us with glory?" one of the followers called, gleefully to +another. And a little din of compliments fell upon Darius' ears. It is +pleasant to reflect that all over the hall similar groups were exulting +unselfishly over their own prowess and their own heroines. Little did +Darius Hardy concern himself with them. He took his wife under his arm +with a proud and blissful smile. He waved a direction at Darrie: "You +take the girls, Darrie, you'll find a cab, somewhere; I want your mother +to myself. Now, Myrtle, if sated vanity can demand any more, I'll give +it to you in the carriage!" + +A few minutes later, she was gazing, through a happy mist, at the gems +on her heart-shaped locket, murmuring: "And I thought you had forgotten +the day. And you planning this lovely, lovely surprise for me. Oh, I am +so glad, Dar, I didn't know you were there, I couldn't have said a +_word_! Did I--were you--was it _passable_?" + +"You're fishing!" chuckled he; and he kissed her hand. But he whispered +in her ear; and she blushed like a young girl. + +Presently he laughed. "By the way, Myrtle, you haven't told me! Have you +discovered what is the object of the federation?" + +"Certainly," said she, "I don't know what it is for others, but in my +case it is to help me find myself--and my husband!" + + + + +THE LITTLE LONELY GIRL + + +The golf links were picturesque; spreading along the shore or climbing +through the heart of the island set in the great river; here and there a +vista of the huge bulk of the arsenal-shops; walled over the river by +the hills behind opulent, bustling little cities, the fair greens +jeweled by the sun and dappled with shadow from trees older than the +Louisiana Purchase. A breeze shifted the shadows. Willy Butler felt its +touch on his wet forehead. + +He half turned to take out his handkerchief. In the act he saw her. It +was the same girl who had followed the course yesterday. She was alone, +just as she had been alone yesterday. + +The gallery was bobbing like the crest of a wave over the brow of the +hill; the carriages and machines glittered in slow pomp after the rope, +while the favorites and their caddies marched over the slope toward the +bunkers. But Willy and Dickson had only this one follower, a little +lonely figure, slim and straight and nimble, in white linen, whose +brown arms and brown face against her dazzling gown made the effect of a +Russian eikon minus the gold-incrusted robe. She halted when Willy +halted. With impersonal interest she watched Dickson make a strike. At +the clean, beautiful drive she nodded approval. Then her black brows met +in a slightly worried frown. Willy, club in hand, was aware of the +frown. He was aware--in a sort of subconscious way--that she wanted him +to play well; and he was acutely aware that he had not played well this +afternoon. Even his direction, which had always been his best ally, had +not kept its form. Twice had he gone into the rough, losing a shot each +time, despite his really hair-raising recoveries. Now the other man was +two up, with only four more holes to play. At best Willy could but halve +this hole, at best, with a perfect approach and a long putt. "A duffer +at golf, like everything else!" ran his own bitter comment to himself. +He didn't know why he looked up; swinging his club for a trial stroke on +a leaf. Look he did, however, to catch the dark eyes of the little +lonely girl intently watching him. If she had called to him aloud "Brace +up!" he couldn't have heard the words more distinctly. He almost +thought he did hear them, and gave the child an involuntary, +half-starved smile. + +With the same smile on his lips he sent a faultless approach into easy +putting distance, and he felt absurdly pleased because she clapped her +hands. They halved the hole. Dickson, the Harvard champion, looked bored +as he sank on the bench by the red water-cooler. He had been Willy's +classmate a year ago at college, knowing him as the man who makes all +the best societies and "leads the life" may know the recluse who makes +none; he was conscious of a certain irritation peppering his cool +superiority. To think of the millions that shuffling, cowed-looking, +insignificant chap would have, while he, Dickson, had to slave on a +salary. A duffer who couldn't even win a golf game that belonged to him, +because he was rattled! Dickson felt that the ways of Fate were +scandalous. + +Willy had limped up. The day before he had blistered his heel somehow, +and every step cost a pang. He eased the lame foot by resting his weight +on the other. His gray-blue eyes, which only his dead mother had ever +found handsome, scanned with a certain wistfulness Dickson's graceful, +athletic figure and clean, dark profile. His own profile was irregular +and his figure was awkward, with arms too long and shoulders too square +for harmony; he stooped in an ungainly fashion, as if he had the habit +of musing as he walked; his plain face was deeply freckled. Yet as there +was a suggestion of strength in the figure, so there was the same +suggestion in the young mouth and chin, and something clear and +strangely innocent, for a young man, looked out of his eyes. As he +stood, every muscle seemed to sag; he appeared utterly spent; but the +instant Dickson had driven he stepped alertly into his place and sent a +drive like a bird sailing far beyond Dickson's dot of white on the +green. Somehow a new uplift of energy and hope had come to him; bless +that kid, he would show her that he could still do something with the +sticks! He heard her whispered, unconscious "_Beauty!_" This time he +kept his head straight, but when the hole was won, he met her smile +frankly with another. The next hole was easy. He had steadied; he had +his nerve back; every calculation worked; and when Dickson stymied, it +was a simple trick (the like of which he had practiced often) to hop +over the ball and roll into the hole, to the artless joy of his caddy. +"You're going to be the champeen," this worthy told Willy when they +trudged on; "guess that young lady's a mascot." + +"I guess she is," said Willy. He was sure of it when at the home hole, +guarded by a high hedge, Dickson's ball was sliced into the stubborn net +of osage-orange roots. When his own ball sailed cleanly over the wall he +made an excuse of tying his shoe in order to get another view of "that +kid's" brilliant smile. The girl herself went on to the bench in sight +of the blackboard. Here she found herself beside an elderly man with a +great head of thick gray hair. He was clapping so vigorously that she +took him to be Willy's father, and sent him a glance of sympathy. "You +been all 'round with him?" said he. "What sort of a game is he playing?" + +"Pretty bad until the fifteenth, and then a wonder," she returned +calmly. + +"Rattled!" he snorted in disgust, as he chewed his cigar out of shape. +"First match game. How are the others? What's his chance?" + +"He can beat them all if he will only think so," she returned in the +same even tone. Her voice was fuller, with a different and more +melodious intonation than those about him; he looked up at her quickly, +as if from a passing sense of the difference. + +"Yes, he's rattled!" grunted the elderly gentleman. "Gone stale, +practicing every minute. Too anxious. Wants to please his father by +getting a little silverware." + +"Aren't you his father?" + +"_Me?_ No. His father could buy me up out of his pocket-money. His +father is Hiram G. Butler. I'm only his boss. He's learning the steel +business with me. I wish I _was_ his father; he's a genius in his way." + +"I suppose his father is awfully proud of him." + +"Proud nothing!" exploded the stout gentleman. "His father has bought +and sold and fought inventors so long that when he discovered that his +son was hatching formulas for open-hearth steel he was disgusted. Then +at college Will took honors in chemistry and was a grind; and when his +father wanted to load him with money, and told him to go ahead and make +all the societies, he sent the money back and said he didn't know any +boys in societies; the boys who ran after him were only after his money +and the other boys didn't want him. The trouble simply is he is too +all-fired shy and modest. Takes his father's word he is a failure +because he couldn't make their fool societies. How should a fellow who +has spent his life in English schools and traveling about with a tutor, +and then is dumped into Harvard, be expected to make a splash among +those snippy young swells? Harvard's no violet cold-frame! The other +boys did, but they were chips of the old block, hard as nails and +hustlers from 'way back. And since his mother died this poor chap has +had nobody to chirk him up. Father didn't mind until the other boys +died. All three in one year; pretty tough on their father. Pretty tough. +Ever lose--ur-r!--any one in your family? Then you know. Now Willy's the +only child, and his father wants to make him over in his brothers' +image. Wants to give him a wife to help! And Willy so scared of a +petticoat he walked two hours up and down before the Somerset Hotel at +his first college dance trying to screw up courage to go in--and +couldn't. Hiram never will get over that. But Willy, though he won't +marry to please his father, is fond of the old dictator just the same. +And mighty proud. That's why he has worked so at golf. Trying to show he +can do some things like other boys, you see. Well, I see that Harvard +dude has got his ball on the green at last. Now it's up to Willy--Didn't +I tell you? In all right! Shall--Oh!" It was a singularly small, soft +"Oh!" which the elderly man uttered, and it slipped out of his rugged +lips when he caught the shy flash from Willy's eyes at the girl. He +studied her an infinitesimal space before he spoke, and he turned a +chuckle into a cough as he said, "Aren't you Lady Jean Bruce-Hadden and +aren't you visiting the Brookes?" + +She said that she was, rather indifferently, her gaze still following +Willy, who was accepting Dickson's congratulations less awkwardly than +was his wont. + +"I guess Major Brooke has told you about me, Jabez Rivers--" + +But ere he could finish the name, she had held out her hand with a +kindling face, crying, "Oh, indeed, yes. I'm ever so glad to meet you, +Mr. Rivers." + +After this it was only natural to present Willy; but it was a bit of a +surprise to have Willy, when presented, say, "This is my mascot, sir. I +lost the game and she made me win it." + +Willy was astonished at his own fluency; but then he had thought Lady +Jean a very young girl, not quite the "kid" that he had styled her, but +still hardly a young lady. Then, anyhow, she was different. Oh, _very_ +different! + +His friend was eying him critically, with queer little grunts, according +to his fashion. "You're not fit to walk," he grumbled. "Why _will_ young +folks wear shoes that don't fit! Say, you take Lady Jean home while I go +over to the club-house with the major. And keep the car if you don't +find me. I'll go back with Standish. And--I don't know but you better +take her 'round the head of the island and show her that motor +mowing-machine--lawn-mower, you know; I want her to see it." + +He grinned as the young people obeyed him with grateful docility, +speeding away in his electric runabout; and bestowed a look of orphic +sagacity upon the officer in white undress uniform who had joined him. +The officer was younger than Rivers, although not young. + +"That is one of the very finest little ladies in the world," he +remarked. + +To which Rivers returned dryly, "So you've told me. And that's one of +the finest, decentest, cleanest fellows in the world with her." + +"As you've told _me_." + +Rivers grunted. "Go over that lingo you told me about the girl again--or +I'll repeat to see if I've got it straight. She's the fifth daughter of +the Earl of Paisley, Scotch earl, and poor as even a Scotch earl can be. +He has no sons. Distant cousin heir to title. Countess dead. Oldest +daughter married to Baron Fairley; second, widow of a bishop; third, +wife of army officer. Bishopess manages family. She has brought Lady +Moira and the earl over here to give American millionaires a chance with +Lady Moira, who is the family beauty; and little Jean, who is good as +gold, and has sense, but isn't showy, was just thrown in because an +old-maid aunt offered to pay her expenses. Your wife, who knew them in +Scotland, asked her to come here while the Bishopess, in New York, picks +out the most eligible of the millionaire admirers. So?" + +"Yes. Well?" + +"Come on over to the club-house; and while we rest a bit, you telephone +over to Mrs. Brooke, who only needs a tip to go straight, to _make_ +Willy Butler stay to dinner--" + +"Oh, I say--" began the major. + +"No, you don't say anything. You don't ask questions. You have +confidence in your Uncle Jabez and do what he asks. _Not?_" + +"I will," said the major, and he went away smiling. + + * * * * * + +How astonishing to be taking a girl about alone and not be in torments +of embarrassment! But this girl was so nice and simple and boyish; not +the least like those snippy Boston buds! And she knew golf to the +ground; it seemed the most natural thing in the world to ask her if she +was going to watch Cleaves play to-morrow. + +"I thought I'd follow you," she said quietly. "Do you want +to--fire--isn't that what you call it?--your mascot?" + +"Will you? Will you really?" he stammered in his pleasure. "I had a +sneaking hope, but I didn't d-dare--I feel if you d-do, I'll beat my +man; they say he is easy, and then I'll be Cleaves' runner-up and get a +cup." + +"Why not beat Cleaves and get the big cup?" said she in the same cool +tone. "You can if you will. You know perfectly well you can. Promise me +you will." + +"Here and now?" said Willy, smiling faintly, but the light in her eyes +struck a glint in his own. "Done," he added, holding out his hand. Her +clasp was cool and soft, but as firm and frank as a boy's. + +"And now," said she, "where's your lawn-mower?" + +They had reached the head of the island, where there was a beautifully +shaven sweep of lawn, but no vestige of mower; Willy's pulses beat a +thought faster, and he felt himself a master of stratagem when he +suggested their searching for it in an impossible locality at the +farther end if the island. He found that she could talk as well about +other things as golf. There was no froth in her talk, but she was very +witty; Willy, who passed for an abnormally serious young fellow, laughed +several times. He confessed to her that it was more like talking to a +boy than to a girl to talk to her. "I've always wanted to be a boy," she +laughed. "You can play I am one, if you like." + +"But I'm afraid you would miss the pretty speeches, and all that." + +"I never had any," she answered, with her flashing smile. "Maybe when +I'm presented I shall have if we have enough money next year to have me +come out. But I don't believe I shall. If you had four sisters all +raving beauties and tremendously fetching, and you couldn't even sing a +song, do nothing but ride and play tennis--well, you wouldn't expect +pretty speeches!" + +"Why not? You are pretty, too. You--" + +She stopped him with a raised finger and a shrug of her shoulders. He +wondered why he had never noticed before what lovely lines pertain to +girls' shoulders and how daintily their little heads are set on their +smooth olive throats. "Plain truth, you know," said she; "we're playing +being two boys." + +To save the situation he went on precipitately, "I dare say I know, +though. I never was lucky enough to have a sister, but as I had three +brothers who did everything I can't do, I know how it feels to--to be +out of it." + +"But you understand my sisters are splendid and no end nice to me." + +"So were my brothers," said Willy loyally. + +She looked at him with a quick sympathy. "I know," she murmured. "Mr. +Rivers told me. And all in one year. It must have been dreadful." + +"Yes, it was. But it was worse when my mother died." + +"Oh, yes. I was sixteen when my mother died. And I miss her so now. +Don't you?" + +"Yes. I was fifteen." + +They were both silent. The weight of their piteous memories was on both +young hearts, and yet in each was a sense of companionship, of the +sympathy of a common pain. The tears gathered slowly in the girl's eyes; +she put her hand up her sleeve, but withdrew it empty, and the young +man, taking out his own handkerchief, which had surely seen hard usage, +looked disconsolately on it before tendering the freshest corner. "It's +pretty mussy, but I lost the others," he apologized. + +"And you have pockets, too! I lose handkerchiefs to an appalling +extent." + +"So do I." It was wonderful how many things they had in +common--thoughts, opinions, most delightfully human of all, faults. He +felt emboldened to say that it must be a great comfort to have a +sister; he had always wanted one. + +"They're a good deal of a nuisance, most boys think," said she, "but I +don't know why. I know I shouldn't have been a nuisance to my brothers +and I should rather like to have had one. We might have been pals." + +His eyes sparkled; he felt that he was about to make a proposal as +daring as it was original; but he made it, clutching the lever under his +hand more firmly in his agitation, yet not hesitating. "If we are going +to play things, why not play you are my sister? It would be easier than +being two boys. You see I should all the time be afraid of forgetting +somehow and saying something unbecoming, or too rough, if we played you +were a boy." + +She had more sense of humor than he, although she was scarcely less +innocent; she laughed, saying, "Most boys are rough enough to their +sisters. Besides, I don't know you well enough." + +"You know me better than any one in the world does," he answered +gravely. Their young eyes met and darted away. He thought how lovely her +eyes were. Not so much in color or form, perhaps, but in expression. He +wished that he could see them that way again. But she had turned away. +He was worried lest he might unwittingly have offended her. He knew (for +his French tutor had told him) how easy it is for a man to blunder +clumsily into a woman's fine reserves and sensitive modesty; it was a +great relief to have her turn swiftly toward him again and smile as she +said, "But _you_ don't know _me_!" + +"Maybe not; I'm asking you to give me the chance." + +"Oh! Is that why? Just to amuse you." + +"You know better," said he, "for at least you know _me_." + +"That was disagreeable of me," she admitted penitently. "I do know +better. Please forgive me!" + +"Then you will play it?" he said eagerly. "You know I did what you +wanted. I promised to win the cup." + +His first gleam of masterful daring did not displease the girl; +possibly, it obscurely gratified her. "But you must be good and win," +she said, conceding the point in the immemorial feminine fashion which +would always march out of a surrendered keep with flags flying. + +"I will be good and win," repeated Willy obediently. + +There fell a little silence, during which they had glimpses of soft +green woods, of distant harvest-fields and of the shimmer of sunlit +waves. Vagrant odors of new-mown hay were wafted to them when the breeze +stirred. An oriole's note rose out of the dim forest paths, poignantly +sweet. Presently the lad spoke, not so much frightened at his own +audacity as amazed at his lack of fear. "Since you are playing my +sister, do you mind telling me your name? Did he say Buchanan?" + +"No; Bruce-Hadden." + +His face lighted as he exclaimed boyishly, "I _knew_ I had known you! +And I have--at least, I've seen your picture. You are Oswald Graham's +cousin Jean." + +"Of course; and you--you are his Yankee friend at Eton, the one who +fought him because he said things about America!" + +"And jolly well licked I was, too," said Willy gaily. "I didn't even +know how to put up my hands; he made a gorgeous mess of me. And then he +hunted me up and took it all back. Of course we were chums after that. I +was going to visit him in the holidays, but--" + +"But he was drowned, trying to save a child." + +"He did save her. He always did what he set out to do. And if I had only +been there--" + +"I understand. He said you could swim like a duck." + +"It's the only sport I'm not a muff at," said Willy dismally. "It's just +my long arms. But he, _he_ could do anything. I don't suppose I'll ever +stop missing him. He was the only boy friend I ever had." + +"But you have men friends now," she said gently. + +"Yes." He sat up more erect in his seat. "You saw Mr. Rivers. He's the +best ever." + +"I've heard about how good he is and how gruff. That's the kind I like; +no nonsense about them. I hate sissy men, don't you?" + +Willy assented, but without animation; he was diffidently searching his +inner consciousness as to whether he himself had not been accused of +being a sissy. "Sometimes a fellow seems a sissy when he isn't," he +offered. + +"Oh, _often_," she agreed heartily; "but the man they want Moira to +marry is a genuine muff, a horrid, languid-affected New Yorker who talks +like a guardsman and makes fun of his own country. Moira can't endure +him; but he offers to settle half a million on her, and we let Effie +marry a captain of the line who had only a thousand a year--" + +"That was _you_," interrupted Willy fervently. "You did that. Oswald +told me--" + +"No, it was dad; he couldn't bear to have Effie so unhappy when I told +him how she might go into a decline, she felt so wretched. But you see, +having let Effie do that and helping her out, we couldn't afford any +more detrimentals, although Jimmy's got his colonelcy and the cross and +they are ever so happy. But we can't afford another love match. The +bishop is dead and Ellen hasn't very much; and Lord Fairley has a big +family; he was a widower with five when Ellen married him, and they have +two; and _we_ are so deadly poor. It is really necessary, but it's +awful. And I am sure she cares a lot for Reggy Sackville, a kind of +cousin of ours who is a barrister, and she is sure he will be a judge, +he is so clever; but he couldn't support a wife for years and years. +Don't you think it's really and truly awful to have to marry _anybody_?" + +"Awful--intolerable," agreed Willy. "I simply will not." + +"And _your_ father wants you--" She looked so sympathetic that Willy +broke right in: + +"Yes. I never seem able to do anything my father wants. I can't manage +men and make friends and run the business as my brothers did. Now he +wants me to marry a girl he has picked out for me; and I've got to +disappoint him again. I wrote him I'd try to meet his wishes every other +way--I'd accept dinner invitations; I'd learn the steel business; I +could ride and run an automobile, and I had been up in an airship, and +I'd try to win a golf cup; and I'm taking bridge lessons, but--the hand +of Douglas was his own, you know." + +"I think that's splendid!" cried the girl heartily. "_I_ don't want to; +but maybe I shall have to, to save Moira." + +"Don't you do it!" he exclaimed. "It makes me sick to think of their +trying to force you into such a thing." He did look moved. + +"Don't get into such a wax. They can't force me--do I look like a person +to be forced?--and poor old daddy of all people in the world! If you +just knew him; we're the greatest pals in the world. But there's Moira. +If I were to marry some one with a lot of money, she could marry poor +Reggy; and Moira couldn't stand being unhappy near so well as I can." + +"Who's the man?" growled Willy in a tone of mingled gloom and fury. + +"I don't know his name," replied the girl sadly. "It was like this: Dad +met his father, and they became very chummy, and they got to talking. He +talked about his son, who is a 'nice fellow' with elegant tastes and +doesn't like business. Oh, I know, a perfectly odious person." + +"Odious," Willy agreed morosely; "a downright _sissy_! You'd be +_watched_!" + +"Yes," sighed Lady Jean; "but Moira would be wretcheder because she +would always be thinking of Reggy. And besides"--she grew more +cheerful--"men never fancy me; no doubt he'll think I'm too ugly and +dowdy, and I'm so shy I shall be hideously awkward." + +"You're nothing of the kind!" Willy interrupted; "it--it's the most +abominable cold-blooded bargain-and-sale business! And your father told +you--" + +"Oh, no, he didn't tell me. It was Ellen. She was so pleased; she never +had any hopes of _me_, don't you know; and now she says they won't need +to sacrifice Moira. But if the young man doesn't want me, _I_ shan't be +to blame. Now tell me about your girl!" + +"There's nothing to tell. I never saw her. I don't know her name, even. +Only she's got a title; and she is very brilliant and charming and +modest, and I'll be lucky. It's another case of parents butting in. All +he wants, he says, is for me to _see_ her; I told him I should run away +if I knew I were in the same town! But never mind me. Don't worry, +little girl. _I'll_ think up a way to save you all right, all right." + +His face, as he spoke, was stern and dark. She was sure that he must +have great latent strength of character. + +Abruptly she changed the subject recalling the elusive mowing-machine +and the approach of the Brookes' dinner-hour. Willy was sure that Mr. +Rivers would want her to see the mower, it was--was--so typically +American; and if he would take her directly and swiftly home, wouldn't +she go on another search to-morrow? + +"If you win," said she; she felt that she must hesitate at nothing which +would give him that cup. "Another thing, don't you give another thought +to me; you think every minute of your game. If you distract your mind it +may get onto your game." + +"I won't let it hurt my game, don't you worry," returned Willy +confidently. + +Mrs. Brooke had none of the difficulty which she had anticipated in +persuading Willy to dine with them; and she wondered what suffering +friends of hers who had had his reluctant presence at social functions, +meant by their stories. To be sure, he didn't talk much, but he was a +most intelligent listener; and he was visibly having a good time. + +The next day it was bruited about (no one but Jabez Rivers, who had +walked the links with a reporter, could have quite told how) that young +Butler was playing a wonderful game. A dozen of the golf lovers deserted +the great man and his only less great opponent and saw Willy limp over +eleven links, as he beat his man with leisurely ease. + +That afternoon, while again searching for the mowing-machine which that +unsuspected but efficient emissary of the Blind God, Jabez Rivers, had +advised them to be sure to find--after with his own eyes he had seen it +trundling into the garage--Willy submitted his plan of rescue. They were +rolling noislessly along a wide avenue, above which the great elm boughs +made a vaulted arch like the groined vault of a cathedral. Through the +arches filtered the sunset rose. Willy suddenly stopped the machine. He +did not look at her. He clutched the handle of the lever very hard; and +she was positive he was pale, a pallor which threw his freckles into +high relief. But she was thinking of anything else than freckles. + +"I've thought it all out," said Willy very firmly, "and I wouldn't +bother you the least little bit, not the least. And we think alike about +so many things. I believe I could make it all right with your people. I +can do anything, when _you_ are backing me. It would ease my mind +awfully; I should be sure to win the cup. I know that would please my +father, and he'd help us, maybe. Besides, I've a fortune of my own; I'd +settle it all on you--" + +"What _do_ you mean?" cried Lady Jean. + +"You wouldn't need to marry anybody else if you married _me_," said +Willy. + +"_My word!_" gasped Lady Jean. "But you told me you didn't want to marry +_anybody_." + +"I shouldn't mind _you_ so much," said he. + +She was thoughtful, her own mind a chaos to herself. She stole a furtive +glance at his miserable face; something tender and compassionate and +strange made her lips quiver, but she set them closely. + +"You would be making an awful sacrifice for me?" + +He did not deny it. + +"It would be an awful sacrifice for me, too." + +"I know," he acquiesced sadly. + +"Still--I suppose you ought to have your mind settled before to-morrow +or it will get on your game." + +"Yes, that's just it! I'd be awfully grateful--" + +Without any warning she began to laugh. "I think you are the funniest +boy in the world! I don't want to marry anybody. I want to live with +daddy and take care of him and be like Aunt Jean, but if I _have_ to +marry anybody, I'd rather marry you. Shall we let it go at that for the +present?" + +"You are awfully good," cried the boy. He wondered at the extraordinary +calm, almost elation, of his mood. That he should be engaged to be +married and not be revolving suicide! He had read of the exaltation of +self-sacrifice--maybe this was it. But how hard it must be for her. + +"I'll make it just as easy for you as I can--dear." He added the last +word very softly. Probably she didn't hear it, for she answered in her +ordinary tone, not in the least offended, that she knew he would, then +immediately demanded a sight of the mowing-machine; since it wasn't +there, he would better take her home. + +"Don't you begin to love this island?" he said, as he obeyed her. + +"It is lovely," she said: "I never thought I could really like any place +without mountains, but I do." + +"I love mountains," said Willy. + +"They were again surprised at their similarity of taste. Motor-cars and +carriages passed them continually; luxurious open vehicles, victorias +and golf-carts and automobiles with their hoods lowered, disclosing +billows of diaphanous feminine finery and pretty, uncovered girlish +heads. Willy marveled over his own ease as he returned greetings +punctiliously. A week ago he would have raced his horse into the darkest +woodland road to escape a passing salute, the hazard of a little casual +badinage. + +"How pretty American girls are," said Lady Jean a little wistfully; +"such lovely wavy hair." + +Willy's glance furtively took note of her sleek brown head and the heavy +braid between her slim shoulders, which had caused him to think her a +child. + +"I don't much like this corrugated hair," said he carelessly; "it looks +so machine-made." + +Lady Jean declined all proffers of seats, even Rivers' invitation to a +place by him in his runabout. She was going to walk; one could see +better walking. Which was entirely correct, but was not her most +intimate reason; in truth she could not endure to be sitting at her ease +while Willy, footsore and weary, would be doggedly tramping after his +ball. He presented rather a grotesque figure, did Willy, that eventful +morning, being shod as to his sound foot with one of his own neat golf +shoes, but as to his left (thanks to the ministrations of Rivers), with +one of the latter's ample slippers over swathings of bandage soaked in +healing-lotion. Every caddy on the ground (except Willy's) was in +secret ecstasies over his appearance. "We ain't out for a beauty prize, +but the champeen golf cup," says the faithful Tommy haughtily. "Yes, +that's a bottle of liniment. I wet him up with it between whiles. He's +in terrible agony. But he don't mind long's he can keep limber. And say, +jest git onto our game, will you? Two up, and first round over." + +Tommy and Jean were waiting when the first round ended, Rivers having +taken the Brookes to the luncheon-tent to secure seats for them all. The +game that morning had surprised all but the newspaper men and the few +who had followed Willy the day before. The only hope of the friends of +the champion lay in the possible exhaustion of the lame wonder whose +unerring approaches were even more dangerous than his drives and his +putts. "If his foot holds out," Rivers said to Brooke, "he's got the +cup." + +And at this very moment, as if fate conspired against Willy's chances, a +frightful commotion arose. Willy, talking to Jean a moment about the +game, could see the gay groups outside the white tent scatter in violent +agitation with waving hands; could hear an uproar of shouts and screams. +There came a quick change in Lady Jean's face, in every face near--the +caddy's, the young red-jacketed officer's at the blackboard, the women's +faces in a passing carriage. At first no intelligible sound penetrated +the din; but in a thought's time a blood-curdling cry tore out of a +score of throats, "Mad dog! Mad dog!" as men with golf-irons and +pistols, raced toward the little group on the links, after a +foam-flecked, glaring-eyed, panting little beast. The creature made +straight for Tommy, who fled like a deer; but his foot hit the marker, +and he stumbled and fell. It seemed in the same eyeblink that the dog +was on the child and Willy Butler was on the dog, his bare hands +twisting its collar into a tourniquet. + +With one impulse Lady Jean and the young officer each snatched a +golf-club and sprang to help him. "Keep off!" he cried. "I can hold him. +Get a strap; we have to keep him alive to find out--_Jean!_ For God's +sake--" + +His heart seemed to stand still. Lady Jean had dropped on her knees by +the dog, shielding him from the young officer's club. "Don't," she said; +"_he's_ not mad! It's Mrs. Brooke's dog--Why can't you _see_? The poor +brute's _wagging his tail_!" + +"He is," said Willy; "hold up, boys! A mad dog doesn't wag his tail." He +released the tourniquet sufficiently to free a piteous whimper. A second +later he lifted his hand off the dog, which wriggled into Lady Jean's +compassionate arms as a voice announced, "That's not the dog!" + +The real mad dog--if mad he were--had been despatched by a single shot +from a soldier's gun, rods away; but a panic-stricken crowd had used the +customary judgment of panic, and pursued the wrong dog. + +"And now," wrathfully declared Jabez Rivers to his army cronies, "now +that poor boy has probably put his wrist out of whack; and his father +coming in on the two o'clock train to see him fight for the cup! And +this old fool telegraphed for him to come." + +Nevertheless he kept a semblance of confidence. And he has always liked +Dickson because he was so sure Willy would win. He offered to caddy for +Willy; but Willy gratefully declined, because it would break Tommy's +heart; Tommy's mother was coming over to see the game. "He's a real +dead-game sport," Dickson ended, "and a little thing like a spurious +mad dog isn't going to put him out of the running." + +Nor did it; Cleaves made up one of his missing holes, but he got no +farther; and at the sixteenth hole Rivers and a small, keen-eyed, +quiet-looking man stood up in a runabout and shouted while the great +Cleaves, bewildered but invincibly courteous, shook hands with Willy +Butler. + +"You wait until he has cleaned up a bit" advised Rivers; "give the boy's +girl a chance first--there they are; she's talking to him now." + +Mr. Butler knew who she was; she had been pointed out to him before; +possibly having watched her carefully through the progress of the game, +he knew something else, being a man who came to conclusions quickly, on +occasion. He looked at her now; he looked at Rivers; the only words that +escaped his lips--in a very small, low voice--were, "Wouldn't that make +a man believe in answers to prayers!" + +"Willy's been going some," said Rivers. "I don't know who you've up your +sleeve for him, but we've picked out a winner--a sweet, brave, +true-hearted little lady. Don't _you_ butt in, Hiram." + +"Well, hardly," said Hiram Butler, "since her father and I picked her +out first. But, Jabez, blood will tell; I knew Willy had the makings. +Now suppose you and I put the young folks into the machine. They can do +their courting on the way." + +It may be presumed that he knew, although they took their own original +way to Arcadia. Fifteen minutes later, in the heart of the woods which +they had sought because, although much longer to the club-house by that +road, Willy needed its cool refreshment; fifteen minutes later the boy +was saying, "I had to write the note because I didn't have a chance to +see you. Have you read it?" He looked up tremulously. "I write an +awfully blind handwriting always, and to-day, with playing golf and all, +it's worse than ever." + +"You could read it out to me, you know," said the girl; she pulled the +score-card, on which Willy had scribbled, from her sleeve, and both the +young heads bent over it. "'Dear Jean,'" read Willy; then he added, "I +hope you don't think that presumptuous, but being engaged--" + +"No, never mind that; you called me that to-day, already, at the top of +your voice, too." + +"You scared me stiff--Jean." + +"You scared me first--before I knew it was Flukes. You are an awfully +reckless boy." + +"I will go on," said Willy; "it's short." He read: + +"'Dear Jean, I forgot to say one thing yesterday when I asked you to +marry me; I love and adore you. Yours very sincerely, William Godfrey +Butler.'" + +He said nothing more; neither did she say anything for a space. The +squirrels watched them with their bright little eyes, and scampered +fearlessly up the very tree under which their car had halted. All at +once she began to laugh. "My word! but you look miserable, William +Butler. I know it is a sacrifice; I made up my mind to release you; I +only consented yesterday to make you easy in your mind for the game." + +Then he surprised her. "That was yesterday," said he. "To-day I know why +all the world has been different ever since I saw you; I knew everything +I felt when you ran to that dog--" + +"Then it will not be an awful sacrifice for you?" + +He took her little cold brown hand; I had forgotten there was such a +thing in the world as fear. "It will be heaven for me," he said. "But +for you?" + +She looked away at the squirrels; she tried in vain to speak in her +gay, light tone. "I--I found out something this morning, too." + +So Arcady lured two new explorers, who, going through its subtly winding +paths, naturally took quite a little while to reach the club-house and +the ovation waiting the champion. Just outside the portals Lady Jean +uttered a little cry. "Why, I do believe! Why, _Willy_! There's the +motor mower!" + +There in the body, resting amid long lines of green stubble, there, +indeed, stood the long-sought mower. + +"I'm obliged to it," said Willy, "but I don't need it now." + + + + +THE HERO OF COMPANY G + + +The flies and the sun! The sun and the flies! The two tents of the +division ward in the hospital had been pitched end to end, thus turning +them into one. The sun filtered through the cracks of the canvas; it +poured in a broad, dancing, shifting column of gold through the open +tent flap. The air was hot, not an endurable, dry heat, but a moist, +sticky heat which drew an intolerable mist from the water standing in +pools beneath the plain flooring of the tents. The flies had no barrier +and they entered in noisome companies, to swarm, heavily buzzing, about +the medicine spoons and the tumblers and crawl over the nostrils and +mouths of the typhoid patients, too weak and stupid to brush them away. +The other sick men would lift their feeble skeletons of hands against +them; and a tall soldier who walked between the cots and was the sole +nurse on duty, waved his palm-leaf fan at them and swore softly under +his breath. + +There were ten serious cases in the ward. The soldier was a raw man +detailed only the day before and not used to nursing, being a blacksmith +in civil life. An overworked surgeon had instructed him in the use of a +thermometer; but he was much more confident of the success of his lesson +than the instructed one. There was one case in particular bothered the +nurse; he returned to the cot where this case lay more than once and +eyed the gaunt figure which lay so quietly under the sheet, with a +dejected attention. Once he laid his hand shyly on the sick man's +forehead, and when he took it away he strangled a desperate sort of +sigh. Then he walked to the end of the tent and stared dismally down the +camp street, flooded with sunshine. "Well, thank God, there's Spruce!" +said he. A man in a khaki uniform, carrying a bale of mosquito netting, +was walking smartly through the glare. He stopped at the tent. "How goes +it?" said he, cheerfully but in the lowest of tones. He was a short man +and thin, but with a good color under his tan, and teeth gleaming at his +smile, white as milk. + +"Why, I'm kinder worried about Maxwell--" + +Before he could finish his sentence, Spruce was at Maxwell's cot. His +face changed. "Git the hot-water bottle quick's you can!" he muttered, +"and git the screen--the one I made!" As he spoke he was dropping brandy +into the corners of Maxwell's mouth. The brandy trickled down the chin. + +"He looks awful quiet, don't he?" whispered the nurse with an awestruck +glance. + +"You git them things!" said Spruce, and he sent a flash of his eyes +after his words, whereat the soldier shuffled out of the tent, returning +first with the screen and last with the bottles. Then he watched +Spruce's rapid but silent movements. At last he ventured to breathe: +"Say, he ain't--he ain't--he ain't--?" + +Spruce nodded. The other turned a kind of groan into a cough and wiped +his face. Awkwardly he helped Spruce wherever there was the chance for a +hand; and in a little while his bungling agitation reached the worker, +who straightened up and turned a grim face on him. + +"Was it me?" he whispered then. "For God's sake, Spruce--I did +everything the doctor told me, nigh's I could remember. I didn't disturb +him, 'cause he 'peared to be asleep. I--I never saw a man die before!" + +"It ain't no fault of yours," said Spruce in the same low whisper. "I'm +sorry for you. Did you give him the ice I got?" + +"Yes, I did, Sergeant." + +"And was there enough for Green and Dick Danvers?" + +"Yes, I kept it rolled up in flannel and newspapers. Say, I got a little +more, Sergeant." + +"How?" + +"The doctors or some fellers had a tub of lemonade outside, a little bit +further down. I chipped off a bit." + +Spruce ground his teeth, but he made no comment. All he said was, "You +go git Captain Hale and report. Tell the captain I got his folks' +address. They'll want him sent home. They're rich folks and they were +coming on; guess they're on the way now. Be quiet!" + +The soldier was looking at the placid face. A sob choked him. "He said, +'Thank you,' every time I gave him anything," he gulped. "God! it's +murder to put fools like me at nursing; and the country full of women +that know how and want to come!" + +"S-s-s! 'Tain't no good talking. You done your best. Go and report." + +As the wretched soldier lumbered off, Spruce set his teeth on an ugly +oath. + +"I ought to have stayed, maybe," he thought, "but I've been doing with +so little sleep, my head was feeling dirty queer; and the doctor sent +me. Collapse, of course; temperature ran down to normal, and poor Tooley +didn't notice, and him too weak to talk! Well, I hope I git the G boys +through, that's all I ask!" + +He went over to the next cot, where lay the nearest of the G boys, +greeting him cheerily. "Hello, Dick?" + +Dick was a handsome young specter, just beginning to turn the corner in +a bad case of typhoid fever. His blue eyes lighted at Spruce's voice; +and he sent a smile back at Spruce's smile. "Did you get some sleep?" +said he. "What's that you have in your hand?" + +"That's milk, real milk from a cow. Yes, lots of sleep; you drink that." + +The sick man drank it with an expression of pleasure. "I don't believe +any of the others get milk," he murmured; "save the rest for Edgar." + +"Edgar don't need it, Dick," Spruce answered gently. + +Dick drew a long, shivering sigh and his eyes wandered to the screen. +"He was a soldier and he died for his country jest the same as if he +were hit by a Mauser," said Spruce--he had taken the sick boy's long, +thin hand and was smoothing his fingers. + +"It's no more 'an what we all got to expect when we enlist." + +"Of course," said Dick, smiling, "that's all right, for him or for me, +but he--he was an awfully good fellow, Chris." + +"Sure," said Spruce. "Now, you lie still; I got to look after the other +boys." + +"Come back when you have seen them, Chris." + +"Sure." + +Spruce made his rounds. He was the star nurse of the hospital. It was +partly experience. Chris Spruce had been a soldier in the regulars and +fought Indians and helped the regimental surgeon through a bad attack of +typhoid. But it was as much a natural gift. Chris had a light foot, a +quick eye, a soft voice; he was indomitably cheerful and consoled the +most querulous patient in the ward by describing how much better was his +lot with no worse than septic pneumonia, than that of a man whom he +(Spruce) had known well who was scalped. Spruce had enlisted from a +Western town where he had happened to be at the date of his last +discharge. He had a great opinion of the town. And he never tired +recalling the scene of their departure, amid tears and cheers and the +throbbing music of a brass band, with their pockets full of cigars, and +an extra car full of luncheon boxes, and a thousand dollars company +spending money to their credit. + +"A man he comes up to me," says Spruce, "big man in the town, rich and +all that. He says, calling me by name--I don't know how he ever got my +name, but he had it--he says, 'I'm told you've been with the regulars; +look after the boys a little,' says he. 'That I will,' says I, 'I've +been six years in the service and I know a few wrinkles.' I do, too. He +gave me a five-dollar bill after he'd talked a while to me, and one of +his own cigars. 'Remember the town's back of you!' says he. 'Tis, too. +I'd a letter from the committee they got there, asking if we had +everything; offering to pay for nurses if they'd be allowed. Oh, it's a +bully town!" + +Spruce himself had never known the sweets of local pride. He had drifted +about in the world, until at twenty he drifted into the regular army. He +had no kindred except a brother whose career was so little creditable +that Spruce was relieved when it ended--were the truth known, in a +penitentiary. He had an aunt of whom he often spoke and whom he esteemed +a credit to the family. She was a widow woman in an Iowa village, who +kept a boarding house for railway men, and had reared a large family, +not one of whom (Spruce was accustomed to explain in moments of +expansion, on pay-day, when his heart had been warmed with good red +liquor) had ever been to jail. Spruce had never seen this estimable +woman, but he felt on terms of intimacy with her because, occasionally, +on these same pay-days, he would mail her a five-dollar bank-note, the +receipt of which was always promptly acknowledged by a niece who could +spell most of her words correctly and who always thanked him for his +"kind and welcome gift," told him what they proposed to do with the +money, and invited him to come to see them. + +He always meant to go, although he never did go. It was his favorite +air-castle, being able to go on furlough to the village where his aunt +lived and show his medal. He had won the medal in an Indian fight where +he had rescued his captain. The captain died of his wounds and Spruce +never got drunk (which I regret to confess he did oftener than was good +either for his soul or the service) that he didn't talk about his +captain, who had been his hero; and cry over him. Spruce, who was a +cheery creature in his normal state, always developed sentiment and +pathos when he was revealed by liquor. Now he had another day-dream. It +was to be greeted by the cheering crowds--again he would march down the +sunny streets with the band playing, amid the faces and the shouts. And +the men who had stood by the company so stanchly would be pointing him +out and telling each other his mythical exploits--and adding the record +of his Indian exploits--which Spruce felt that an inattentive country +had not appreciated. A dozen times a day he pictured the scene, he +mentally listened to the talk--he, walking with a rigid and unseeing +military mien. He approximated the number of glasses a man could take +without even grazing indecorum--for he was determined he would not be +riotous in his joy--and he used to whistle the refrain of a convivial +song: + + Enj'y yourselves, enj'y yourselves + But don't do no disgrace! + +Meanwhile, his consciousness of in some way caring for the whole company +held him a model of sobriety. In fact, he did take care of the company, +secretly instructing the captain in the delicacies of military etiquette +and primitive sanitary conditions, and openly showing the commissary +sergeant how to make requisitions and barter his superfluous rations for +acceptable canned goods at the groceries of the town. He explained all +the regulars' artless devices for being comfortable; he mended the boys' +morals and their blouses in the same breath; and he inculcated all the +regular traditions and superstitions. But it is to be confessed again, +that while Spruce was living laboriously up to his lights of +righteousness under this new stimulus, the lights were rather dim; and, +in particular, as regards the duty of a man to pick up outlying portable +property for his company--they would have shocked a police magistrate. +Neither did he rank among the martial virtues the ornament of a meek and +quiet spirit. "A good captain is always a kicker," says Spruce firmly; +"he's got to be. Look at this here camp, Captain; the mess tent's all +under water; we're standing in the slush every damned meal we eat. +Water's under our tent, water--" + +"I know, I know, Sergeant," interrupts the perplexed and worried young +captain, a clever young dandy bright enough to be willing to take wisdom +without shoulder straps; "I've been to the colonel; he agrees with me, +and he's been to Major Green, and that's all comes of it. I don't see +what I can do further, if I did--" + +"Begging your pardon, Captain, the men will be falling sick soon and +dying. They're weakened by the climate and being fretted, expecting +always to git off and never going." + +"But what can I do? Oh, speak out, we're off here alone. Have you any +idea?" + +"Well, sir, if you was my captain in the old --th, you'd say to the +colonel, 'Colonel, I've remonstrated and remonstrated. Now I'm +desperate. I'm desperate,' says you. 'If there ain't something done +to-morrow I'm going to march my company out and find a new camp, and you +kin court-martial me if you please. I'd rather stand a court-martial +than see my men die!' He'd talk real pleasant at first, so as to git in +all his facts, and then he'd blaze away. And he'd do it, too, if they +didn't listen." + +The captain gave the sergeant a keen glance. "And that's your notion of +discipline?" said he. + +"There's a newspaper fellow asking for you, Captain, this morning. I see +him a-coming now," was the sergeant's oblique response. But he chuckled, +walking stiffly away, "He'll do it; I bet we won't be here two days +longer." For which glee there was reason, since, inside the hour, the +captain was in the colonel's tent, concluding an eloquent picture of his +company's discomforts with "Somebody has to do something. If you are +powerless, Colonel, I'm not. If they don't give some assurance of +changing the camp to-morrow I shall march Company G out and pitch a camp +myself, and stand a court-martial. I would rather risk a court-martial +than see my men die--and that's what it has come to!" + +The colonel looked the fiery young speaker sternly in the eye, and said +something about unsoldierly conduct. + +"It would be unmanly conduct for me to let the boys trusted to me die, +because I was afraid to speak out," flung back the captain. "And I know +one thing: if I am court-martialed the papers are likely to get the true +story." + +"You mean the reporter on the Chicago papers who is snooping around? Let +me advise you to give him a wide berth." + +"I mean nothing of the kind, sir. I only mean that the thing will not be +done in a corner." + +"Well, well, keep cool, Captain, you're too good a fellow to fling +yourself away. Wait and see if I can't get something definite out of the +major to-day." + +Whereupon the captain departed with outward decent gloom and inward +premonitions of rejoicing, for when he had hit a nail on the head he had +eyes to see. And the colonel betook himself, hot-foot, to the pompous +old soldier in charge of the camp, who happened to be a man of fixed +belief in himself, but, if he feared anything, was afraid of a newspaper +reporter. The colonel gave him the facts, sparing no squalid detail; +indeed, adding a few picturesque embellishments from his own +observations. He cut short the other's contemptuous criticism of boy +soldiers, and his comparison with the hardships endured during the Civil +War, with a curt "I know they fooled away men's lives then; that is no +reason we should fool them away now. The men are sickening to-day--they +will be dying to-morrow; I'm desperate. If that camp is not changed by +to-morrow I shall march my regiment out myself and pitch my own camp, +and you may court-martial me for it if you like. I would rather stand a +court-martial than see my men die, because I was afraid to speak out! +The camp we have now is murder, as the reporters say! I don't wonder +that young fellow from Chicago talks hard!" + +"You're excited, Colonel; you forget yourself." + +"I _am_ excited, Major; I'm desperate! Will you walk round the camp with +me?" + +The end of the colloquy was that the captain saw the major and the +colonel and told the first-lieutenant, who told, the first-sergeant, +whose name was Spruce. "Captain's kicked to the colonel, I guess," says +Spruce, "and colonel's kicked to the major. That's the talk. Git ready, +boys, and pack." True enough, the camp was moved the very next day. + +"I guess captain will make an officer if he lives and don't git the big +head," Spruce moralized. "It's mighty prevalent in the volunteers." + +The captain wrote the whole account home to one single confidant--his +father--and him he swore to secrecy. The captain's father was the man +who had committed Company G to Spruce's good offices. He sent a check to +the company and a special box of cigars to Spruce. And Spruce, knowing +nothing of the intermediary, felt a more brilliant pride in his adopted +town, and bragged of its virtues more vehemently than ever. The camp was +not moved soon enough. Pneumonia and typhoid fever appeared. One by one +the boys of the regiment sickened. Presently one by one they began to +die. + +Then Spruce suggested to the captain: "I guess I'd be more good in the +hospital than I am here, Captain." And the captain (who was scared, poor +lad, and had visions of the boys' mothers demanding the wasted lives of +their sons at his hands) had his best sergeant put on the sick detail. +If Spruce had been useful in camp he was invaluable in hospital. The +head surgeon leaned on him, with a jest, and the young surgeon in charge +with pretense of abuse. "You'll burst if you don't work off your steam, +Spruce, so out with it. What is it _now_?" In this fashion he really +sought both information and suggestion. Nor was he above being +instructed in the innumerable delicacies of requisitions by the old +regular, and he did not, when requisitions were unanswered and supplies +appeared in unusual form, ask any embarrassing questions. "I get 'em +from the Red Cross, sir," was Spruce's invariable and unquestioned +formula. + +And the doctor in his reports accounted for what he had received and +complained lustily because his requisitions were not honored, even as +Spruce had desired, and, thereby, he obtained much credit, in the days +to come. Spruce did not obtain any particular credit, but he saved a few +lives, it is likely; and the sick men found him better than medicine. +The captain always handed the committee letters over to him; and bought +whatever he desired. + +"Captain's going to distinguish himself, give him a chance," thought +Spruce, "he's got _sense_!" + +And by degrees he began to feel for the young volunteer a reflection of +the worship which had secretly been offered to a certain fat little +bald-headed captain of the old --steenth. His picture of the great day +when he should have his triumph--quite as dear to him, perhaps, as any +Roman general's to the Roman--now always included a vision of the +captain, slender and straight and bright-eyed, at the head of the line; +and he always could see the captain, later in the day, presenting him to +his father; "Here's Sergeant Spruce, who has coached us all!" He had +overheard those very words once said to a girl visiting the camp, and +they clung to his memory with the persistent sweetness of the odor of +violets. + +To-day he was thinking much more of the captain than of young Danvers, +though Danvers ranked next in his good will. Danvers was a college lad +who had begged and blustered his mother into letting him go. He would +not let her know how ill he was, but had the captain write to his +married sister, in the same town but not the same house. She, in sore +perplexity, wrote to both the captain and Spruce and kept her trunk +packed, expecting a telegram. Danvers used to talk of her and of his +mother and of his little nephews and nieces to Spruce, at first in mere +broken sentences--this was when he was so ill they expected that he +might die any day--later in little happy snatches of reminiscence. He +was perfectly aware that he owed his life to Spruce's nursing; and he +gave Spruce the same admiration which he had used to give the great man +who commanded the university football team. The social hiatus between +them closed up insensibly, as it always does between men who are in +danger and suffering together. Danvers knew Spruce's footfall and his +thin face would lighten with a smile whenever the sergeant came in +sight. He liked the strong, soft touch of his hand, the soothing cadence +of his voice; he felt a gratitude which he was too boyish to express for +the comfort of Spruce's baths and rubbings and cheerfulness. The other +sick lads had a touch of the same feeling for the sergeant. As he passed +from cot to cot, even the sickest man could make some little sign of +relief at his return. + +Spruce's heart, a simple and tender affair, as a soldier's is, oftener +than people know, swelled within him, not for the first time. + +"Well, I guess I done right to come here," thought he, "and I guess all +the G boys will be out of the woods this week, and then I don't care how +soon we git our orders." + +Danvers stopped him when he returned. "I want to speak to you, Chris," +he next said, and a new note in his voice turned Spruce about abruptly. + +"What's the matter, Dick?" + +"Oh, nothing, I only wanted to be sure you'd come back and say good-by +before you got off. The regiment's got its orders, you know?" + +"_No!_" cried Spruce. He swallowed a little gasp. "What are you giving +me?" + +"Oh, it's straight; I heard them talking. Colonel has the order; the +boys are packing to-day." + +Spruce's eyes burned, he was minded to make some exclamations of profane +joy, but his mood fell at the sight of the boy's quivering smile. + +"Great, isn't it?" said Danvers. "I wish they'd waited two weeks and +given us fellows a show, but I dare say there won't be any show by that +time, the way they are after the dons at Santiago. Can't you get off +now, to pack? But--you'll be sure to come back and say good-by, Chris!" + +"I ain't off yet," said Spruce, "and I ain't too sure I will be. +They're always gitting orders and making an everlasting hustle to pack +up, and then unpacking. You go to sleep." + +He was about to move away, but Danvers detained him, saying that he +wanted to be turned; and as the soldier gently turned him, the boy got +one of his hands and gave it a squeeze. He tried to say something, but +was barely able to give Spruce a foolish smile. "Spruce, you're a +soldier and a gentleman!" he stammered. He turned away his head to hide +the tears in his eyes. But Spruce had seen them. Of course he made no +sign, stepping away briskly, with a little pat on the lean shoulder. + +He came back softly in a little while. He looked at Danvers, who was +simulating sleep, with his dark lashes fallen over red eyelids, and he +shook his head. During his absence he had found that the orders were no +rumor. The regiment was going to Porto Rico sure enough. Spruce stood a +moment, before he sat down by Danvers' side. But he barely was seated +ere he was on his feet again, in a nervous irritation which none had +ever seen in Spruce. He walked to the door of the tent and gazed, in the +same attitude that the nurse had gazed, an hour earlier, at the low, +white streets. Two great buzzards were flying low against the hot, +cloudless vault of blue. + +"Them boys'll be all broke up if I go!" said Spruce. + +He frowned and fidgeted. In fact, he displayed every symptom of a man +struggling with a fit of furious temper. What really was buffeting +Spruce's soul was not, however, anger, it was the temptation of his +life. Spruce had known few temptations; at least, he had recognized few. +His morality was the lenient, rough-hewn article which satisfies a +soldier's conscience. He had no squeamishness about the sins outside his +limited category; he fell into them blithely and had no remorse when he +remembered them, wherefore he preserved a certain incongruous innocence +even in his vices, as has happened to many a man before. It is, perhaps, +the moral nature's own defense; and keeps untouched and ever fresh +little nooks and corners of a sinner's soul, into which the conscience +may retreat and from which sometimes she sallies forth to conquer the +abandoned territory. What Spruce called his duty he had done quite as a +matter of course. He had not wavered any more than he wavered when the +war bonnets were swooping down on his old captain's crumpled-up form. +But this--this was different. The boys needed him. But if he stayed with +the boys, there was the regiment and the company and the captain and the +chance to distinguish himself and march back in glory to his town. + +"I guess most folks would say I'd _ought_ to follow the colors," he +thought; "raw fellers like them, they need a steady, old hand. Well, +they've got Bates." (Bates was an old regular, also, of less +enterprising genius than Spruce, but an admirable soldier.) "I +s'pose,"--grudgingly--"that Bates would keep 'em steady. And captain can +fight, and the colonel was a West Point man, though he's been out of the +army ten years, fooling with the millish. I guess they don't need me so +awful bad this week; and these 'ere boys--Oh, damn it all!" He walked +out of the tent. There was a little group about a wagon, at which he +frowned and sighed. "Poor Maxwell!" he said. Then he tossed his head and +stamped his foot. "Oh, damn it all!" said he again, between his teeth. + +But his face and manner were back on their old level of good cheer when +he bent over Danvers, half an hour later. + +"Sa--y! Dick!" + +"Yes, Chris. You come to say good-by! Well, it's good luck to you and +God bless you from every boy here; and we know what you've done for us, +and we won't forget it; and we'll all hurry up to get well and join +you!" Danvers' voice was steady enough now and a pathetic effort at a +cheer came from all the cots. + +Spruce lifted his fist and shook it severely. "You shut up! All of you! +You'll raise your temperature! I ain't going, neither. Be quiet. It's +all settled. I've seen captain, and he wants me to stay and see you boys +through; all the G boys. Then we're all going together. I tell you, keep +quiet." + +Dick Danvers was keeping quiet enough, for one; he was wiping away the +tears that rolled down his cheeks. + +The others in general shared his relief in greater or less measure; but +they were too ill to think much about anything except themselves. In +some way, however, every one in the tent showed to Spruce that he felt +that a sacrifice had been made. + +"I know you hated it like the devil, and just stayed for fear some of +your precious chickens would come to mischief if they got from under +your wings, you old hen!" was Dick's tribute; "and I know why you went +into town yesterday when the boys went off. It _is_ rough, Chris, and +that's the truth!" + +"Oh, it's only putting things off a bit; the captain told me so +himself," said Spruce, very light and airy. But his heart was sore. The +G boys understood; he wasn't so sure that all the others did understand. +He caught his name on one gossiping group's lips, and was conscious that +they gazed after him curiously. "Wonder if I'm scared that I stayed +home, I guess," he muttered, being a sensitive fellow like all vain men. +"I wish they'd see the things I've been in! Damn 'em!" + +The men really were discussing his various Indian experiences and +admiring him in their boyish hearts. But he was unluckily out of +earshot. Unluckily, also, he was not out of earshot when a lieutenant of +another regiment who had had a difference about a right of way with +Spruce's captain and been worsted by Spruce's knowledge of military +traditions freed his mind about that "bumptious regular who was so keen +to fight, but (he noticed) was hanging on to his sick detail, now the +regiment had a chance to see a few Spaniards." Spruce, in his properly +buttoned uniform, his face red with the heat and something of the words, +saluted rigorously and passed by, not a single muscle twitching. All the +while he was thinking: "I'm glad he don't belong to _my_ town! God! If +anybody was to write them things about me!" + +By this time the town was not only his town, but he was sure that he was +a figure in the conversation of the place. Thus his anxiety of mind +increased daily. He kept it from his charges, who grew stronger all the +week, and the next; and he read such papers as drifted out to the camp +and such shreds of news about the fighting with frantic interest. +Danvers was able to sit up at the end of three weeks, but most of the +boys were further along, walking about the wards, or gone back to their +regiment. + +"You get out, Chris," said Danvers, "we all know you're on your head +with aching to go. _We're_ all right; and I'm off home on furlough +to-morrow; I'll get straightened out there quicker, and I'll be after +you next week, see if I don't! I knew you'd be hanging on, so I won't +give you the excuse. My sister's coming to-morrow." + +"Really, Dick," gasped Spruce, "and you--you're sure the other boys are +so's I can leave?" + +"Well, you know there are going to be some women from the Red Cross, +last of the week--Oh, by the time we are all out of it, this will be a +swell hospital, with all the luxuries! Spruce, go, and don't get hurt, +or I'll murder you!" + +Spruce giggled like a happy girl. He was on his way to put in his +application to join his regiment the next day--after Dick Danvers' +sister had arrived, when something happened. He did not exactly know +what it was himself, until he felt the water on his forehead and tried +to lift himself up from the sand, catching the arm of the +surgeon-in-chief. "Sunstroke, doctor?" he whispered. + +"Just fainted," the surgeon answered cheerfully, "you've been overdoing +it in this heat. Be careful." + +"Oh, it's nothing, sir," Spruce grinned back; "had it lots of times, +only not so bad. All the boys git giddy heads--" + +Somehow the ready words faltered off his tongue; the surgeon had been +fumbling at his blouse, under the pretext of opening it for air, he was +looking in a queer, intent way at Spruce's chest. + +Of a sudden the eyes of doctor and soldier, who had been nurse, met and +challenged each other. There was a dumb terror in the soldier's eyes, a +grave pity in the surgeon's. "I seen them spots yesterday," said Spruce, +slowly, in a toneless voice, "but I wouldn't believe they was typhoid +spots, nor they _ain't_!" + +"You get inside and get a drink, Spruce, and go to bed," said the +doctor. "Of course, I'm not certain, but as good a nurse as you knows +that it isn't safe to try to bluff typhoid fever." + +By this time Spruce was on his feet, able to salute with his reply: +"That's all right, Major, but--I got to keep up till Danvers gits off +with his folks, or he'd be kicking and want to stay. Jest let me see him +off, and I'll go straight to bed." + +"No walking about, mind, though," said the doctor, not well pleased, yet +knowing enough of the two men to perceive the point of the argument. + +Spruce saw Danvers off, with a joke and a grin, and an awkward bow for +Danvers' sister. Then he went back to the hospital and went to bed, +having written his aunt's address on a prescription pad (one of his +acquirements in his foraging trips) with a remarkably spelled request +that his pay be sent her, and his other property be given his friend, R. +E. Danvers, to divide among his friends, giving the captain first +choice. + +"Lots of folks die of typhoid fever," he remarked quite easily, "and it +don't hurt to be ready. I feel like I was in for a bad time, and I ain't +stuck on the nursing here a little bit." + +Before the week was out he recognized as well as the doctors that he was +a very sick man. + +"If you'd only gone off with your regiment three weeks ago," the doctor +growled one day, "you'd have missed this, Spruce." + +"That's all right," said Spruce, "but some of the boys are home that +wouldn't be, maybe. I guess it's all right. Only, you know captain and +Danvers; I wish you'd write back to the old town and tell the committee +I done my duty. I can't be a credit to the company, but I done my duty, +though I expect there's folks in town may think I was malingering." + +"Stop talking!" commanded the doctor. "Did you know the women are coming +to-morrow; you are to have a nurse of your own here?" + +"Time," said Spruce; "if my town had its way they'd been here long ago. +Ever been in my town, Major?" + +"No. Good-by, Spruce; keep quiet." + +"It's the bulliest town in the country, and the prettiest. And when G +company goes back--Oh, Lord, I won't be with 'em!" + +The surgeon's hand on his shoulder prevented the movement which he would +have made, and he apologized; "I didn't mean to do that! Moving's so +bad. Tell you, I'd a time keeping the boys still; they _would_ turn when +they got a little off. Say, I got to talk, Major, something's broke +loose in me and I _got_ to talk. I don't want to, I just got to." + +When the nurse came he was so light-headed as to have no control of his +words, yet quite able to recognize her and welcome her with an +apologetic politeness. + +"I'd have had some lemonade for you if I'd been up myself, ma'am. We're +glad to see you. All the G boys are convalescing; most of 'em's gone. We +all come from the same city; it's an awful pretty town. I got a lot of +friends there that maybe don't take it in why I'm here 'stead of with my +regiment, with the old man. I got a good reason; only I can't remember +it now." + + * * * * * + +The captain's father stood outside the telegraph office in Spruce's +town. Beside him was the chairman of the relief committee. + +"Too bad about that regular," said the chairman. "Spruce--isn't that his +name? One of the boys telegraphed he couldn't live through the day. +Better have him brought here for the funeral, I guess; he's been very +faithful. Young Danvers wanted to go right down to Florida; but he had a +relapse after he got home and he's flat on his back." + +"I heard," said the captain's father; "I've just telegraphed, on my own +responsibility, for them to send him here. It won't make any difference +to him, poor fellow; but we owe it to him. I wish we could do something +that would help him, but I don't see anything." + +"We have told them to spare no expense, and he's got plenty of money. +No, you have done everything. Well, good-by; remember me to the captain; +we're all proud of him." + +The captain's father thanked him with rather an absent air. "I wish we +could do something for that fellow," he was thinking; "I don't suppose a +message to him would--when a fellow's dying, messages are nonsense--it's +a bit of sentiment--I don't care, I'll do it!" He turned and went back +into the office. + + * * * * * + +"I am afraid there is not a chance," said the doctor; "too bad, he was a +good fellow. Well, you can give him all the morphine he needs--and +strychnine, though he's past strychnine, I fear; morphine's the one +chance, and that's mighty little." + +"He talked about wanting to see you," said the nurse. She had a sweet +voice, plainly a lady's voice; and her slim figure, in the blue-striped +gown and white surplice, had a lady's grace. Her face was not handsome, +nor was it very young, but it had a touch of her voice's sweetness. The +doctor found himself glad to look at her; and forgetting his patients in +his interest in the nurse. + +"Oh, yes,"--he roused himself--"I'll look 'round later; I suppose he is +delirious?" + +"Not so much that he does not recognize us. He talks all the time of his +town, poor fellow, and seems to want to have them understand that he +hasn't neglected his duty. He only once has spoken of any relations. +It's all the town, and the captain and Danvers making it right there; +and the boys going back--I suppose he has lived there all his life +and--" + +"Not a bit of it; Danvers told me he merely enlisted from there. But +they are making a great time over him. Telegraphed to have his body sent +there; and here's another telegram. See--" + +"I'll let him see," said the nurse, taking it, "may I, Doctor?" + +"Yes, but not the first part about sending him back; that's a little too +previous." + +The nurse's touch roused Spruce. "Dick," he murmured, "Dick, you tell +the folks. I couldn't go with the regiment--you know why." + +"They know why, too; here's a telegram from your captain's father: 'Tell +Spruce he's the hero of Company G.'" + +"Read it again!" + +She read it. His hand tightened on hers. Her trained eyes were on his +face. + +"Ain't it the--the _bulliest_ town! I wisht I'd enough money to go back; +but you see my folks got to have my pay. But I wisht--" + +Her eyes, not the nurse's now, but a woman's, sought the doctor's in a +glance of question and appeal. He nodded. + +Her sweet voice said: "And the town has telegraphed that no expense must +be spared to cure you; but if you don't recover you are to go back to +them." + +Spruce drew a long, ecstatic sigh. "Oh--didn't I tell you? Ain't it the +bulliest town!" + +A minute later he murmured, "Thank you, Dick," and, still holding the +nurse's hand, Spruce went to see his town. + + + + +A MIRACLE PLAY + + +The widow Darter's house was set on a hill. It was a story-and-a-half +cottage, of stucco, to which sun and wind and frost had offered their +kind offices, mellowing pleasantly its original glare of white. In +summer a trumpet-vine draped the ugly little piazza which Emmy's +"art-needle work" had helped build, and which she and her mother admired +with simple hearts. The big burr oak and the maples hid the house from +the road, but the grassy knoll in front of the house was bare, and from +this vantage-ground one could see the shallow curve of whitish-brown +where the village street climbed the hill, the chimneys of the houses +below, and, afar off, the trains roaring through the prairies. All the +village was interested in the railway, but Emmy had an especial and +intimate interest because her sweetheart was the local agent. He had +been her sweetheart during five years, in any one of which he would have +been proud and glad to marry her; yet this was the fifth year of their +betrothal, and Emmy was drearily reflecting that they were no nearer the +chance to spend their lives together the fifth than the first. + +Emmy was hanging out clothes. It was four o'clock in the afternoon, but +she had just brought out the large basket and was pinning the garments +to the line, while Virginia, her sister, a little girl in short skirts +and a blue checked apron, helped with the less cumbrous stockings and +handkerchiefs. The child was pretty. She had a fresh color and curly +yellow hair. Emmy's hair was black, and twisted in a braid about a +shapely head. It shone like silk. But her eyes were gray, soft, and +liquid. She was slender, with a youthful litheness in her motions, and +her white arms flashed as they moved backward and forward in her work. +The sleeves of her blue gown were rolled up; the gown itself was plainly +her work-a-day garb, but there was a white lawn tie at her neck and the +gown was both neat and becoming; in short, she was an attractive little +creature who did not neglect her looks even of a wash-day. + +The widow Darter sat on the piazza in a large rocking-chair. She rocked. +As she rocked, she moaned piteously. At intervals she changed the +sibilant moan into a hollow groaning sound. "Oh dear! _Oh_ dear! Oh +dear, oh dear, oh dear!" wailed the widow. "Um-m! um-m! um-m-m-m!" + +The little girl flung a frown of impatience over her shoulder. "I don't +see why mamma makes such an _awful_ racket!" she snapped. + +"She suffers," said Emmy. + +"Well, she needn't holler so if she does," cried Virginia, rebelliously. +"I know she wouldn't let _me_ holler when I stubbed my toe. It hurt +awful, too!" + +Emmy said nothing. + +"Say, are you going to the picnic with Bert to-morrow afternoon?" said +the child. + +"No, Jinny, I don't see how I can. Mother's so sick." + +"Well, I told Bert I was willing to take care of mamma; and he said he'd +buy me a new doll if I would. I guess he wants you to go awful." + +"Oh-h dear! Oh-h dear!" droned the sufferer on the piazza. + +"Well, I can't," said Emmy. "I wish you'd run and ask mother if she +wants anything." + +"She don't; she's been going on that way all the afternoon." But Jinny +granted the request after the easy-going manner of her age; she turned +on her heel and sent a shout at her mother--"Say, mamma! you want +anything?" + +Mrs. Darter shook her head. The din of woe swelled in volume. + +"I s'pose she wants you to read to her; she says I don't read with +expression," said the little girl. "But we're all read out; you put off +the washing to read the end of _A Romance of Two Worlds_, and we've got +to wait until No. 9 comes in! Albert said he'd sent for a whooping big +pile of books from Davenport; you can get 'em at the dry-goods stores +for five cents a book. And Mrs. Conner'll bring them up, won't she, when +she comes? She's got to go for her boarder." Emmy nodded. Mrs. Darter +groaned more softly, a sign that she was distracted by something from +her own griefs of mind or body. Jinny chattered on. "Miss Ann Bigelow +told me Mrs. Conner's going to have a girl from the University of +Chicago for a boarder this time, but she's only coming for a week. Sibyl +Edmunds knows her well. And, Emmy, she takes pictures, and she's going +to bring her camera." + +"Emmy! _Emmy!_ there comes Mrs. Conner!" screamed her mother. + +Her words were accompanied by the vision of a white horse and an ancient +phaeton (which had been newly washed for the occasion) just beyond the +lilac-bushes at the gate. Mrs. Conner's comely presence filled the +better part of the seat, but the eyes of all the Darters traveled at +once to the slim girl in gray covert-cloth who sat beside her. The girl +looked like hundreds of rather pretty American girls, with gray eyes and +brown hair and dimples in their cheeks. She was pretty as youth and +cheerfulness and dainty clothes are always pretty, but Emmy's gaze dwelt +on her with reverence. "That's a camera she's holding--in that box," she +said in a low tone to Jinny, "she's the girl that got the scholarship." +Emmy sighed. + +Mrs. Conner had stopped the horse. She responded to Emmy's greeting by +presenting her to the girl in gray. "Miss Doris Keith; she's going to +the Chicago University. She knows Sibyl." Then she fished out a package +from the luggage heaped at their feet. "Here's the books. That your ma +on the piazza?" + +As if in response, a few hollow moans floated from the rocking-chair. + +"She seems in great pain," said Miss Keith, sympathetically. + +Emmy's fair skin reddened painfully. "No, she--she isn't well," she +stammered. + +Mrs. Conner coughed a dry, inexpressive cough. + +"I do wish you would step in and see mother for a minute," Emmy begged, +as much with her eyes as with her voice. "I can hitch the horse if Miss +Keith minds--" + +But Miss Keith did not mind; she was quite willing to hold the horse. +And the horse sagging his elderly head, appeared of no mind to move, +whether "held" or no. + +"Well?" said Mrs. Conner, when they were out of earshot. + +"Mother thinks she is threatened with pleurisy, and she is trying the +starvation cure," answered Emmy. "She hasn't eaten a bite since +yesterday. I'm ashamed to be so late about my washing, but I've been +cooking things all day, trying to tempt her--" + +"Oh dear! Oh dear! Oh _dear_!" moaned the figure on the piazza. + +Mrs. Conner put her arms akimbo. She looked steadfastly at the swaying +and moaning shape. Mrs. Conner was a woman who had been known to fry +fresh griddle-cakes for tramps. She drew in her breath and exhaled it +explosively, as one that has been shocked out of speech. + +"I've made her postum cereal coffee and cooked her granum, and I went +out and begged dewberries from the Bigelows--she used to be fond of +them--and I don't know how many times I've made toast. She says I just +torment her." + +"Won't she drink a little beef tea?" + +"Oh-h! Oh-h! U-r-r-r! _Ug-h-h-h!_" shuddered the invalid. + +"Didn't you know she thinks meat wicked? And milk's robbing the cow, and +eggs robbing the hen, who wants to have a family as much as we do," said +Emily, rather incorrectly. + +"More'n some of us do, I guess," retorted Mrs. Conner, "and more'n folks +_ought_ to if they ain't prepared to do their duty by them when they've +got 'em." She launched a fiery glance at Mrs. Darter, who was now +groaning vehemently. "Got it all turned on this afternoon, ain't she?" + +"Dr. Abbie Cruller told her that it wasn't natural to suppress +ourselves. If you feel like groaning you ought to groan--" + +"And she eats sech queer stuff she's hungry most of the time," Mrs. +Conner interrupted, "so I expect she groans a lot. Say, Emmy, have you +ever had anybody come in and give your ma a good hard--_blowing up_?" + +The blood rushed to Emmy's face; her eyes sank. She answered, in a +confused tone: "Aunt Lida Glenn was over yesterday. I don't know what +she said to mother, but mother--mother told me the one thing she wanted +on earth was to have me--send Albert away and have everything ended +between us, for she never was so insulted in her life as she had been by +Albert's mother." + +"Albert's mother ain't Albert; though I don't blame her, Emmy, and Mrs. +Glenn is a awful nice woman. But it ain't fair to hold Albert for her +opinions, right or wrong. As I said, she ain't Albert, nor Albert ain't +her." + +"So I told mother," said Emmy. "I did hate to be disrespectful to her, +but I told her so; and she answered that Mrs. Glenn said Albert thought +so too. Then when I tried to question her she was in so much pain and +groaned so I hadn't the heart to bother her. She let me put hot cloths +on her, and give her a Turkish bath over the alcohol-lamp; and I hoped +she'd let me make her some water gruel, but she wouldn't touch a +spoonful. Mrs. Conner, you don't suppose she--she will keep it up much +longer?" Emmy's eyes dilated with an unspoken fear as she lifted them to +the kind woman before her. "She said she felt herself growing weaker +this morning. I--I told her I wouldn't go to the picnic with Bert, if +she would only eat something. But she said that she couldn't eat +anything. One time--one time she went three days. I didn't let the +neighbors know; but I was 'most crazy, and poor little Jinny cried. She +isn't one to cry, either." + +"No," Mrs. Conner agreed, glancing at Jinny who was chattering volubly +with the girl in the phaeton--"no, I'd say she'd be more likely to be +sassy." + +"I'm afraid she was that, too," suggested Emmy, with a dim smile, "but +at last she got scared. It was some new books Bert brought, got mother +out of that time; she was so anxious to read them." + +"Yes, I know your ma's a great reader. Always was. She told me she +fairly revelled in stories of high life and detective stories. She said +she'd read every one of The Duchess's books--I guess 'twas a hundred. +And she said many and many a night she'd set up in bed reading half the +night. 'It's so resting,' she says, 'to read 'bout murders and how they +are tracked down.' It took up her mind from her sorrers, she says. And +she told me she didn't know how she'd ever lived through losing your pa +but for _Sherlock Holmes_. If I was you I'd jest try to stir her up with +these books. I'll fetch 'em to her. I read the one of Ouida's and it's +real good--and, come to think of it, brimful of eating. Who knows but +it'll git her to wanting to eat herself. Why, when I think what kind of +cook she was, it don't seem possible! But now don't you worry, Emmy; +she'll come all right and she'll come all right 'bout Mrs. Glenn, good +friends as they've always been. Why, she always has liked Lida Glenn +better than all her other friends together! She'll _have_ to make up. +Don't you fret a bit." She said the words in a hearty voice, and she +strode vigorously across the grass to the piazza and presented her +package with a breezy cheer. "Here's two new books by Ouida, and one by +Bertha M. Clay, and two by Maria Corelly, Mrs. Darter; and Emmy'll be +ready to read them to you soon." + +Mrs. Darter had a delicate pale face, much like Emmy's in features, but +etched with tiny wrinkles. The corners of her mouth dropped, and there +was a habitual frown of pain on her pretty forehead. She did not look +ungentle, only obstinate. + +"Thank you," she murmured. Then she sighed. + +Mrs. Conner opened her mouth, and shut it again, compressing the lips +with unnecessary firmness. + +Mrs. Darter laid her head back on her chair. She closed her eyes. A +plaintive, sibilant noise hissed through her parted lips. + +"Well, I'm real sorry you're sick," said Mrs. Connor, her voice again +full of good-nature. "I guess what you need is a little nourishing +food--" + +Mrs. Darter screamed, and Mrs. Conner stood aghast. She was more aghast +to behold all the apparent symptoms of a swoon in the invalid, and would +have run for water--an act, however, prevented by the timely opening of +Mrs. Darter's eyes. "Don't say the word!" she begged, shuddering. "I +have to starve off a pleurisy. It would _kill_ me! And the books are no +good; I'm too sick to hear reading. Oh dear! Oh dear! Oh dear!" + +Mrs. Conner backed off the piazza--she said she guessed she must go--and +left Mrs. Darter moaning and rocking. + +"And to tell you the truth, Miss Keith"--thus she ended a breathless +narration to her new boarder--"I went quick, for I knew I couldn't hold +in one minnit longer! And how'd it help poor Emmy to have her mother +quarrel with Lida Glenn and me the same day? There's Susy Baker making +eyes at Albert Glenn, this minnit; and if she ain't carrying Mrs. Glenn +some of her ma's blueberry cake! Right by the Darters, too; and Emmy +seeing her!" + +"What is the matter with Mrs. Darter?" + +"Well, old Dr. Potter says she's 'neurotic,' if you know what _that_ is. +I call it jest notions. What the doctors in my time called a hypo, +that's what she is! She's always been the greatest hand to dose. Mr. +Conner will have it she kep' old Captain Darter poor buying patent +medicines. And she run after every new cure-all going. It was +electricity one year, and 'nother year it was blue glass, and one time I +remember she had a woman come of the sort that used to call themselves +bone-doctors when I was a girl and this country wasn't much settled, but +now they're osteologists, or some sech funny name, and give out they can +rub everything on earth out of you. Mrs. Darter had _her_ for a long +spell, till she got pneumonia, and nigh died, and sickened of the +osteologist; and I give her mustard plasters, good strong ones, myself. +All this time Emmy was engaged to Albert Glenn; but the old captain was +real feeble, and Emmy wouldn't leave him to git married. I will say Mrs. +Darter was real devoted to him, though Emmy done all the night work and +spared her all she could, give up her school, and spent every cent of +the money she'd laid by school-teaching and working art embroidery for +her clothes, when she'd be married--spent every cent on her pa. Got him +a wheel chair, and if ever a man set the world by his daughter the +captain done it. He liked Albert, too. I guess if captain had lived, +sick's he was, he'd have found a way so's Emmy and Albert could git +married. But he died. Then you'd 'a' s'posed they could marry, for his +life was _well_ insured, and they got enough for the widder to be +comfortable and keep a girl. But the minnit he died poor Mrs. Darter +got nervous prostration, and she was a nervous prostrate for a year, +and they had to spend money traveling, and of course Emmy couldn't git +married. Mrs. Darter went to Hot Springs, Arkansas, and she went to a +sanitarium, and last she come home saying she was cured. But on the cars +she made the acquaintance of a woman--well, I don't want to jedge--jedge +not, and you won't git jedged, you know--and I know 'tis hard for a +woman to make a living, but I guess that woman was a crank, and a +designing one at that. But she went to Mrs. Darter's to board, and she +never paid no board, but she preached to Mrs. Darter 'bout how all the +diseases that we have come from eating wrong things; and she said we'd +got to live 'cording to nature more; and eating meat made folks fierce +like the carnivorous beasts, and things seasoned with salt was bad for +you, and jest plain farnishous foods without salt--like we was +_chickens_!--was best for us. I don't see how Mrs. Darter, who used to +cook real well and liked to have the sewing society to tea, could stand +sech sick stuff, but she did; and what's wuss, even after the fool +critter ran away and married a magnetic healer who, they do say, has +another wife, even to this day Abiel Darter believes in her and goes by +what she says. And she ain't et any fit food for so long that if she +ever does git coaxed to take a wholesome bite of beef or pie her +stummick is so weak of course she cayn't stand it. Strong folks can eat +strong vituals, and weak folks cayn't. Mrs. Glenn coaxed her in to a +boiled dinner one day, and poor Mrs. Darter nearly died of it. Now you +cayn't git her to budge from her grass and potato diet, as Conner calls +it. And as for poor Emmy, when she can git married Lord only knows!" + +Miss Keith had not interrupted the story by as much as a hum of assent. +She looked up with a queer smile. "Has Mrs. Darter ever tried Christian +Science?" + +"No, she ain't," snorted Mrs. Conner; "we've been spared _that_. The +Bigelow girls--they're two single ladies, real nice girls, too, who live +in that big brown house with a cupola and a hip-roof there, 'bout two +doors up--they tried to get her into that way of thinking; they're at +everybody. And they used to go over and set with her and give her +'silent treatment,' they called it, and try to think the dyspepsia out +of her; but one of 'em got a fish-bone in her throat and they had to +come to me to pull it out with a pair of tweezers. That sorter dampened +'em for a while and Mrs. Darter says, 'Why didn't you _think_ it out?' +And then Ann--she's the oldest--says they wasn't far enough advanced +yet, Mrs. Darter told 'em then they wasn't far enough advanced to doctor +_her_. And I guess they ain't been there sense." + +"All the same," insisted Miss Keith, smiling, "I think Mrs. Darter needs +mental healing or Christian Science, I don't care which." + + * * * * * + +Emmy put her mother to bed. She gave her the soothing drops which the +vanished but still reverenced healer had left--drops which she was +almost certain owed their potency to some alias of opium. In the morning +Mrs. Darter came out of her drugged sleep with a deadly nausea that +swathed her muscles and laid her rigid in its limp, devil-fish clutch. +The roof of her mouth was like leather; her head seemed to be pounded +with hammers; she was burning with fever, and malign twitchings and +itchings tormented her to rub her nose incessantly, when the least +motion was fearsome to her. She had much more cause than ordinary to +moan, and moan she did at every breath. Jinny had rushed away to a small +chum the moment the dishes for her own breakfast had been washed; but +Emmy couldn't run. She drank a cup of coffee; she had no heart to eat. +Jinny, however had eaten the dainty little meal that Emmy had +prepared--a forlorn hope to tempt the invalid. + +"Oh, my nose! my _nose_!" wailed Mrs. Darter. "Emmy, you've got to leave +off staring out of that window at the Glenns', and come and scratch my +nose! Ah-uh! Ah-u-h!" + +Emmy silently sat down by the bedside. If Albert passed the yard on his +wheel, as he did every morning at half-past seven, he would not find +her. Emmy had used no one knows how many devices to always be in the +yard when Albert passed, or, at least, in sight by a window. Bert used +to say that glimpse of Emmy "was a bracer for the whole day." Thursday +night was his night to visit her, but last night he hadn't come. + +"Emmy, you ain't any account at all as a scratcher!" fretted her mother. +"You scratch where it ain't itching, and you don't scratch where it +itches, and you're so mincing! Rub it _hard_! Oh-h! _why_ must I suffer +so? It's hard enough to have a ungrateful child without having your nose +itch!" + +Emmy adventured a sentence long lurking in her mind, but which she never +had the courage to push out into the air: "Mother, I think, I'm sure it +is the soothing drops which make your nose itch so. There's opium--" + +"There isn't a grain of opium in them," sobbed Mrs. Darter. "You know I +always hated opium or morphine or anything of the sort; and doctor told +me she wouldn't give the wicked drug. That's what Lida Glenn much as +told me; much as told me, too, that I was putting on and wasn't real +sick; and I told her--oh-h-h!--I told her--if she considered--_me_--that +sort of woman she must feel awful bad to--oh-h-h!--to have her only +child marry my daughter; and--I-thought--Oh-h! wuh-h-h! how awful sick I +am!" + +"You told Mrs. Glenn?" prompted Emmy, a flame in either cheek. + +"I told her that--sss! sss!--I thought the sooner that engagement was +broke the better it would be for--u-r-r-r!--all concerned--e-hee! ee-e! +ee-e-e-e! Oh my head! my head! Oh, I got to scratch my nose again. You +ain't rubbing the right place!" + +"And what did Mrs. Glenn say?" asked Emmy. A ripple ran over her face, +and she swallowed before she spoke. + +"She said you wouldn't give Albert up, real spiteful. Ah-rr-r! Oh, I +_am_ so sick! I said you would ruther than have your mother so +insulted--and if you don't I guess I'll give up trying to live. She was +so topping. Much as telling me it would be better for my own child if I +died. Oh dear! oh dear! oh dear! And Albert looked as cross last +night--" + +"Did Albert come last night?" + +"Yes, he did. You needn't jump out of the chair! I told him you wasn't +home, and you had gone out to the Collins spring. He said when would you +be home, and I said I didn't know. And he went off mad. Oh-h! oh-h-h! +Jinny says Carrie March says she saw him down-town riding on his bicycle +with Susan Baker. O-h-h-h-h! How can I talk when I'm so sick? Girls +don't know about young men. Bert wouldn't like you to see him sometimes, +be sure of that!" She paused to moan, and Emmy looked at her in a misery +of doubt. Was she telling the truth? It had come to that, since Mrs. +Darter had grown to take her soothing drops in every ailment--there was +no surety that she either saw things straight or told them straight. + +"I guess I'll go make you some coffee, mother," said Emmy; "you need +it." + +The girl's self-control was like tinder to the woman's fire. Mrs. Darter +flared out: "You needn't make any coffee. I won't drink it. What's more, +I won't eat one bite until you promise me to break with Bert Glenn--not +if I starve to death! If you're willing to let those Glenns insult me +and triumph over me, I ain't willing to live to see it." Her feeble +accents shrilled to a scream, as she flung out her arms with a +reminiscence of the behavior of her favorite heroines in novels. "Go, +Emmeline Darter, marry him if you dare; but you will pass to the altar +over your only mother's grave!" She had a confused sense that her syntax +had played her false and that she had not gotten the words precisely +right; but she covered any embarrassment by sinking back and moaning. + +Emmy looked at her with a mounting terror in her heart. She told herself +that it was impossible that her mother could carry out such a hideous +threat; but she knew that mucilaginous obstinacy which had not a place +firm enough for a reason to get a hold. "And she won't want to eat, +either," mused Emmy, wretchedly, "for that nasty medicine has made her +awful sick. She's got a fever now; that will burn away her strength. And +if it comes to a choice between letting my mother starve and giving up +Bert, I shall have to give him up!" + +Emmy sprang out of her chair. The thought was like a lash on a raw +wound. + +She ran to the window; it seemed to her that she couldn't breathe; and +her mother's whimpering irritated her past patience. She knew if she +spoke that she would let the bars down for her anger, and if she were +angry her mother would be upset physically, and grow so much worse that +she would feel like a murderer. She felt the goading of that furious +petulance which torments a woman often into sacrificing herself out of +very anger. It was on her tongue to say, "I'd rather die myself than +give up Bert, and you know it; and I'll never forgive you as long as I +live, but rather than see you die before my eyes I _will_ give him up." + +Neither to Emmy nor to her mother was there a doubt that any word passed +would be kept. Mrs. Darter, in the lost days of peace, before her +vagaries had corroded her affection, had said once, "Emmy never told me +a lie in her life, nor she never broke a promise she made me!" + +Emmy shut her lips tight and looked out of the window. Her troubled gaze +did not note the dewy freshness of the morning on turf and tree. The +houses were brown cottages for the most part, built in the lean period +of western rural architecture when a stunted cruciform effect and a +bescrolled piazza was the model for every village. But the ugly lines of +wood were veiled by a kindly wealth of wistarias and clematis royally +flaunting, by Virginia-creeper and trumpet-vines splashed with vermilion +and yellow; the grass was velvet, there was a gay company of geraniums +prospering in every garden; and below the hills and the tree-tops lay +the lovely, dimpled hill-sides, golden with wheat or shorn to a +varnished silver like nothing so much as the hue of shining flax, and +the waving fields of corn--all under a vault of burning blue, delicate, +tender, innocent, with no sumptuous and threatening richness of cloud +betokening storm, only high in the heavens the milky white cumuli, the +"harvest clouds." + +There were a thousand witcheries of light and shade, there was a radiant +lavishness of color; it was a landscape like a multitude all over the +Middle West, nevertheless a sight to make the heart beat the quicker for +sheer delight. But it might have been a stone wall for anything poor +Emmy, who loved each growing thing, saw in it this moment. To live +without Bert, perhaps to learn that Susy Baker had the love which she +would seem to have flung away--Emmy would have groaned if she had not +heard Mrs. Darter's piteous din, and thought grimly that her mother did +enough groaning for their small family! + +Yet at this very instant of despair a minister of grace was lifting the +latch of the Darter gate, and Emmy was unconsciously eying her. The +minister of grace was short of stature and very plump. She had a round, +fair, freckled face, which looked the rounder for its glittering +spectacles. Her hair was a yellowish gray, but she covered it with a +small white sailor hat. She wore a neat brown and white calico frock. To +escape the dew she held her skirts high; one could see that her +preference was for black alpaca slippers and white cotton stockings. The +minister's name was Miss Ann Bigelow. + +"Now _she_ comes to stir mother up worse!" thought Emmy. So blind are we +to the future. But she opened the door for Miss Ann Bigelow, and bade +her welcome, and proffered her the best rocking-chair in the parlor and +a palm-leaf fan. + +Miss Bigelow's countenance was beaming like an electric light. + +"I really _had_ to come!" she exclaimed so soon as she could take +breath. "Have you heard about Mrs. Conner spraining her ankle?" + +"Emmy, open the door!" moaned Mrs. Darter from within--her bed-room +adjoined the parlor. Emmy opened the door, while she said: "I'm so +sorry. When? How is she?" + +"Oh, she's all right now!" said Miss Bigelow. "It's wonderful--a real +miracle, I told sister. That's what I came to tell you. She sent over +for us, and there she lay, flat on the kitchen floor. I begun to treat +her in my mind the minute I saw her, for I saw she was in error. All her +word was: 'Send for a doctor; it's sprained, if it ain't broke!' I +didn't know what _to_ do. I didn't want to encourage her in error, and +yet you know we are _not_ advanced so far as sprains and broken bones, +and it is usual to summon a doctor; and I don't feel I'm advanced enough +myself to undertake serious cases; I'm too weak and timid, and I haven't +the spiritual vision. Emmy, does your mother _always_ groan that loud +way? Is she in pain? I mean, does she _think_ she is in pain?" + +"Yes'm," said Emmy; "but please go on; mother is listening." + +"Well, I stood there dazed, you may say; and just then in came Miss +Keith. She's a little slim thing, but _such_ eyes! They seem to look you +through and through! I'd have known she was a healer even if Mrs. Conner +hadn't told me the night before when she was over in our house. She +stood there, just simply looking at Mrs. Conner, not saying a word for a +minnit. Then she says in the _kindest_ voice--I can't tell you how soft +and kind her voice was!--she says, 'Have you the impression of great +pain, Mrs. Conner?' And Mrs. Conner--you know how--well abruptly--she +speaks, she said: '_Impression_ of pain? I only wish you had something +jabbing you like a hot iron, I guess you'd be _impressed_. Ain't +anybody going to take off my stocking? It's swelling every minnit!' Miss +Keith only looked at her, and lifted her hand for me and the girl to +keep still. I expect she was giving her silent treatment, for in a +moment or two she said: 'Well?' in such an inspiring, cheerful tone; and +Mrs. Conner said, 'Why, it's better!' surprised as could be; and I had +to clap my hands for joy. But Miss Keith told us both to go out for a +while and so we did. We waited half an hour by the clock, and that girl +was the most restless being you ever saw. I had all I could to keep her +quiet. Then the door opened--" Miss Bigelow made a wave of her plump +hands, indicating the opening of a door, and paused with hands and +voice. Mrs. Darter had ceased to groan. + +"What happened?" said Emmy. + +Miss Bigelow's hands met in a clap. "_Mrs. Conner came walking out with +Miss Keith, that's what happened!_" said she, in a low, solemn voice. + +"On her sprained ankle?" cried Mrs. Darter. + +"On her sprained ankle, her that couldn't move it without nearly +fainting for the pain. She said it hardly pained her at all; and she's +going right on with her preserving this minute. I said to sister it was +simply mirac'lus. I can't find a better word." + +"Maybe her ankle was not sprained so badly as she thought," Emmy +suggested. + +"Her face was white as a sheet," said Miss Bigelow; "and we all know +Mrs. Conner isn't one to cry before she's hurt, or make a fuss; and we +all know her prejudices about mental healing. She says she don't believe +a _bit_ more in it than she did, 'but,' says she, 'that girl's a wonder! +I wish,' says she, 'Mrs. Darter could have her.' I never lisped, but I +made up my mind to go and tell you right straight." + +"She couldn't do mother any good," said Emmy, wearily. At which Mrs. +Darter spoke for herself in a good, round voice of contradiction. "_Why_ +couldn't she? How much does she charge, Miss Ann?" + +"_Not one cent!_" replied Ann, with a thrill of triumph; "_if_ she'll +come, she'll come free; but I don't know whether she will come." + +"Emmy, you go and ask Mrs. Conner to ask her to come; ask Mrs. Conner to +come too," said Mrs. Darter, resuming her feeble voice. "I want to see +if that ankle _is_ cured. You'll stay with me, Miss Ann?" + +So, almost too quickly for her to realize the position, Emmy found +herself on her way to the Conners'. A fragrant odor wafted Mrs. Conner's +occupation through the open kitchen door before Emmy crossed the +threshold to behold her skimming a great kettle of plum jam. "Landy, +land! it's Emmy Darter already!" she cried, with a jolly laugh. "I +thought I could git that plum jam ready to take off before you'd come. I +knew it wouldn't be long when I saw Miss Ann Bigelow trotting across +lots. Your ma's sent for Miss Keith, I guess. Well, it's lucky Conner +has the hosses hitched in the wagon, and he can take us right over. I'll +call Hedwig to take off the jam, and Miss Keith--" + +"But, Mrs. Conner, please tell me about yourself," urged Emmy. "_Did_ +she cure you?" + +Mrs. Conner's left eyelid twitched in company with the left corner of +her shapely mouth. "You ask me no questions, Emmy, and I'll tell you no +lies; but you can make up your mind Miss Keith can cure your ma--if +she's _let_!" These orphic sentences were dropped with a slow and +ponderous nod of the head, and ceased at the entrance of Miss Keith. The +young lady looked very pretty in a crisp pink and white dimity frock +and a large white hat with pink roses. She had none of the airs of an +adept or a seer. There was nothing occult or intruding on the +imagination in her presence. She sat on the front seat beside Mr. Conner +and talked about cantaloupe melons. Mrs. Conner was amazingly silent; it +was plain, however, from no unkindly motives, since often she cast an +affectionate glance on Emmy, and, as the wagon stopped in front of the +Darter gate, she patted the girl's shoulder, saying: "It's all going to +come right, _I_ guess. Jest you mind us and keep still." + +Emmy's bewilderment deepened, but she said, "Yes'm," in her docile way, +and followed Mrs. Conner and Miss Keith down the walk, leaving Mr. +Conner to chuckle over some unknown mirth of his own, in the wagon. + +Mrs. Darter, so Miss Bigelow told them, had been dozing all the while +Emmy was gone. Her greeting to Miss Keith was a feeble moan. But on Miss +Keith's part there was an amazing transformation. She bent her brows +above eyes which shone out of them in a level, intent gaze. Emmy +recalled Miss Ann's description, and understood it with a thrill. For a +few seconds Miss Keith stood motionless, shedding that steady, +unblinking gaze at the drawn face on the pillow. Mrs. Darter appeared to +feel it through her eyelids; she winced, she ceased whimpering. Miss +Keith smiled gently. She spoke, and her voice was like silk. "You have +suffered very much!" + +Mrs. Darter opened her eyes; she gazed up at the eyes above her; her +chin quivered and two tears slowly ran down her cheeks--the first tears +seen on her cheeks during all her lamentations. "Oh, I have," she +murmured, "and nobody believes it--not my oldest friend, not my own +children!" + +"_I_ believe it," said the girl; "yet it is all a mistake." Without +turning her eyes, she made a little motion with her hands toward the +door, and instantly Miss Ann marshaled the others out of the room. Mrs. +Conner shut the door. + +In spite of herself, Emmy began to feel her nerves twitch with the +excitement and mystery. "Oh, Mrs. Conner," she entreated that stanch +friend, "is it possible she _can_ cure mother?" + +"Jest you keep quiet," said Mrs. Conner, "and set still. I'm going out +to the kitchen to heat this beef tea." For the first time, Emmy observed +that Mrs. Conner carried a glass jar insufficiently wrapped in +newspaper. Directly she was heard clattering among the saucepans. Miss +Ann stiffened into a rigid attitude, and her face assumed a rapt +expression. Emmy locked her fingers and sat still. At this moment she +was startled by a soft noise outside, and a young fellow pushed a +handsome, flushed face into the triangle between the window curtains and +beckoned with a look of entreaty. Emmy's heart jumped into her throat. +It was Albert. She didn't care whether he rode with Susan Baker or not; +it was Albert who loved her; she knew it. If she could only go out to +him! But Miss Ann shook her head and laid a mystic finger on her lips. +Emmy, too, laid a finger on her lips; but her finger trembled and her +eyes swam in tears. Albert stood passive and bewildered. The moments +dragged on. Really there were not so many of them; a scant half an hour +covered the flight of time; but to Emmy, uncertain whether her greatly +tried lover might not have to go back to an expected train at any one of +them, and to Albert, who did have a train on his mind and had ridden +swiftly up to his sweetheart's for the briefest of interviews, those +minutes seemed an hour. Yet Albert knew better, having his watch in +hand and waving it and pointing at it, the better to explain his hurry. +Once Emmy mustered courage in an access of desperation to rise to her +feet, but the look of horror on Miss Ann's features dropped her like a +club. + +Albert's mind darted blindly from one conjecture of disaster to another. +At one minute he was ready to march in rashly before Miss Ann and demand +what was the matter; at another he was cold at the thought of blundering +in on a deathbed. + +He gasped with relief when the door opened and Miss Keith came out, +smiling and calling: "Mrs. Conner! Mrs. Conner! hurry up that beef tea, +and make some strong coffee as soon as you can!" + +Then he did venture to come into the room, essaying a general bow and +smile. + +"I hope Aunty Darter is better!" he stammered. The children of the old +friends had always given them a brevet relationship. Mrs. Darter was +"Aunty Darter" to Albert, and Mrs. Glenn "Aunty Lida" to the Darter +girls. + +"Mrs. Darter will be well to-morrow," said Miss Keith, quietly; "she is +going to take some coffee--" + +"And some toast and plum jam," interrupted Mrs. Darter herself. "I know +Mrs. Conner has been making jam. The times I've hankered after jam these +last months! I'm going to eat everything I didn't dast to--" + +"By degrees," said Miss Keith, "as the mental power grows stronger." + +"Is that Albert?" said Mrs. Darter. "Albert, lift me up while I drink +that beef tea." + +Albert and Emmy held her while Mrs. Conner fed her a cup of the tea. +They laughed hysterically, with tears in their eyes, as Mrs. Darter +sighed weakly. "Oh, but that's good!" while Mrs. Conner radiated +satisfaction and Miss Ann rocked to and fro, announcing that it was +"mirac'lus!" They did not comprehend what had happened; they could not +look into the future and a time when Mrs. Darter should throw herself +with energy into preparing for Emmy's marriage; they only dimly foresaw +her recovery and reconciliation with the common pleasures of life; but +it was enough for Emmy that her mother's black hour had passed, and for +Albert that he was close to Emmy, and that there was a vague omen of +happiness in the atmosphere. + +Mrs. Darter took her tea. She went to sleep, as Miss Keith directed her; +and she partook with relish of coffee, toast, and jam that selfsame day, +so rapidly had her state improved by evening. It was after this last +meal, she being vastly strengthened by the food and drink, that she +received Albert's messages from his mother--rather, that she cut them +short. + +"No, Albert, your ma shan't keep on feeling bad. She was right. It was +all in my mind. All disease is in the mind, I guess. But I wasn't +putting it on--" + +"Oh, she _knows_; she didn't mean--" + +"We didn't, either of us, mean all we said; the truth is, I felt so bad +and so hungry I couldn't see straight, anyway; and as to Dr. Abbie +Cruller, I guess your mother wasn't far out. She said I never had had a +well day since I knew that woman, and I do believe that's so; but I've +got a wonderful new doctor now; don't charge a cent; and you tell your +mother to come over and see me and stay to tea. My hand's out making +blueberry cake, but I'm going to try." + +But this interview was hours after Doris Keith and the Conners had +driven away. Mrs. Conner gave her husband a graphic account of the +"miracle." "Ann Bigelow will have it's no less," says she. + +"Thing pleased me," chuckles Conner, wrinkling his eyes out of sight in +his ironic enjoyment--"thing pleased me was the way she'd go on 'bout +Miss Keith's eyes piercing her right through, after Miss Keith had +practysed them eyes on you 'n' me all the evening, jest from my +description of that Indian doctor. Well, she done it well; but I wish I +could have seen it!" + +"Will Mrs. Darter keep right on and not back-slide, think?" said Mrs. +Conner. + +"I think she will," said Doris; "I hope she will. And there's one thing: +after I'm gone (I shall have to run away from my reputation) you must +own up about your ankle--and _me_ to Miss Darter and poor, trusting Miss +Bigelow. She's such a good soul! Mrs. Darter--well, you will know when +it's safe to tell Mrs. Darter." + +"Humph!" said Conner, "Emmy'll be grateful! I guess we'll go slow on the +Widow Darter; and as to Ann Bigelow--" + +"I do feel sneaky about her," sighed Doris. "It's touching, her faith. +She's a simple-hearted creature. I hate to uproot her." + +"Oh, you needn't be afraid," said Conner, grinning; "she won't be +uprooted. She will say it's jest as much mental healing as if you done +it in earnest. And ain't Mrs. Darter healed? she'll say." + +"Well," Doris mused aloud, "I dare say she's right. It certainly was a +mental healing, and how far the power of the mind to heal goes none of +us can say. Perhaps, after all, she is right, and it _is_ a bit of a +miracle, although it was only a miracle play!" + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORIES THAT END WELL*** + + +******* This file should be named 33499.txt or 33499.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/3/4/9/33499 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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