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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes index 6833f05..d7b82bc 100644 --- a/.gitattributes +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -1,3 +1,4 @@ -* text=auto -*.txt text -*.md text +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf @@ -1 +1,6174 @@ -bab +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 366 *** + + + + +BAB: A SUB-DEB + +By Mary Roberts Rinehart + +Author Of "K," "The Circular Staircase," "Kings, Queens And Pawns," Etc. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +I. THE SUB-DEB + +II. THEME: THE CELEBRITY + +III. HER DIARY + + + + +CHAPTER I. THE SUB-DEB: A THEME WRITTEN AND SUBMITTED IN LITERATURE +CLASS BY BARBARA PUTNAM ARCHIBALD, 1917. + + +DEFINITION OF A THEME: + +A theme is a piece of writing, either true or made up by the author, +and consisting of Introduction, Body and Conclusion. It should contain +Unity, Coherence, Emphasis, Perspecuity, Vivacity, and Precision. It may +be ornamented with dialogue, description and choice quotations. + +SUBJECT OF THEME: + +An interesting Incident of My Christmas Holadays. + +Introduction: + +"A tyrant's power in rigor is exprest."--DRYDEN. + +I have decided to relate with precision what occurred during my recent +Christmas holiday. Although I was away from this school only four days, +returning unexpectedly the day after Christmas, a number of Incidents +occurred which I believe I should narrate. + +It is only just and fair that the Upper House, at least, should know +of the injustice of my exile, and that it is all the result of +circumstances over which I had no control. + +For I make this appeal, and with good reason. Is it any fault of mine +that my sister Leila is 20 months older than I am? Naturally, no. + +Is it fair also, I ask, that in the best society, a girl is a Sub-Deb +the year before she comes out, and although mature in mind, and even +maturer in many ways than her older sister, the latter is treated as a +young lady, enjoying many privileges, while the former is treated as a +mere child, in spite, as I have observed, of only 20 months difference? +I wish to place myself on record that it is NOT fair. + +I shall go back, for a short time, to the way things were at home when I +was small. I was very strictly raised. With the exception of Tommy Gray, +who lives next door and only is about my age, I was never permitted to +know any of the Other Sex. + +Looking back, I am sure that the present way society is organized is +really to blame for everything. I am being frank, and that is the way I +feel. I was too strictly raised. I always had a governess tagging along. +Until I came here to school I had never walked to the corner of the next +street unattended. If it wasn't Mademoiselle, it was mother's maid, and +if it wasn't either of them, it was mother herself, telling me to hold +my toes out and my shoulder blades in. As I have said, I never knew any +of the Other Sex, except the miserable little beasts at dancing school. +I used to make faces at them when Mademoiselle was putting on my +slippers and pulling out my hair bow. They were totally uninteresting, +and I used to put pins in my sash, so that they would get scratched. + +Their pumps mostly squeaked, and nobody noticed it, although I have +known my parents to dismiss a Butler who creaked at the table. + +When I was sent away to school, I expected to learn something of life. +But I was disappointed. I do not desire to criticize this institution of +learning. It is an excellent one, as is shown by the fact that the best +families send their daughters here. But to learn life one must know +something of both sides of it, male and female. It was, therefore, a +matter of deep regret to me to find that, with the exception of the +dancing master, who has three children, and the gardener, there were no +members of the sterner sex to be seen. + +The athletic coach was a girl! As she has left now to be married, I +venture to say that she was not what Lord Chesterfield so euphoniously +termed "SUAVITER IN MODO, FORTATER IN RE." + +When we go out to walk we are taken to the country, and the three +matinees a year we see in the city are mostly Shakespeare, arranged for +the young. We are allowed only certain magazines, the Atlantic Monthly +and one or two others, and Barbara Armstrong was penalized for having a +framed photograph of her brother in running clothes. + +At the school dances we are compelled to dance with each other, and the +result is that when at home at Holiday parties I always try to lead, +which annoys the boys I dance with. + +Notwithstanding all this it is an excellent school. We learn a great +deal, and our dear principal is a most charming and erudite person. But +we see very little of life. And if school is a preparation for life, +where are we? + +Being here alone since the day after Christmas, I have had time to think +everything out. I am naturally a thinking person. And now I am no longer +indignant. I realize that I was wrong, and that I am only paying the +penalty that I deserve although I consider it most unfair to be given +French translation to do. I do not object to going to bed at nine +o'clock, although ten is the hour in the Upper House, because I have +time then to look back over things, and to reflect, to think. + +"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." +SHAKESPEARE. + +BODY OF THEME: + +I now approach the narrative of what happened during the first four days +of my Christmas Holiday. + +For a period before the fifteenth of December, I was rather worried. All +the girls in the school were getting new clothes for Christmas parties, +and their Families were sending on invitations in great numbers, to +various festivities that were to occur when they went home. + +Nothing, however, had come for me, and I was worried. But on the 16th +mother's visiting Secretary sent on four that I was to accept, with +tiped acceptances for me to copy and send. She also sent me the good +news that I was to have two party dresses, and I was to send on my +measurements for them. + +One of the parties was a dinner and theater party, to be given by Carter +Brooks on New Year's Day. Carter Brooks is the well-known Yale Center, +although now no longer such but selling advertizing, ecetera. + +It is tragic to think that, after having so long anticipated that +party, I am now here in sackcloth and ashes, which is a figure of speech +for the Peter Thompson uniform of the school, with plain white for +evenings and no jewelry. + +It was with anticipatory joy, therefore, that I sent the acceptances and +the desired measurements, and sat down to cheerfully while away the time +in studies and the various duties of school life, until the Holidays. + +However, I was not long to rest in piece, for in a few days I received a +letter from Carter Brooks, as follows: + + +DEAR BARBARA: It was sweet of you to write me so promptly, although I +confess to being rather astonished as well as delighted at being called +"Dearest." The signature too was charming, "Ever thine." But, dear +child, won't you write at once and tell me why the waist, bust and hip +measurements? And the request to have them really low in the neck? Ever +thine, CARTER. + +It will be perceived that I had sent him the letter to mother, by +mistake. + +I was very unhappy about it. It was not an auspicious way to begin the +holidays, especially the low neck. Also I disliked very much having told +him my waist measure which is large owing to basket ball. + +As I have stated before, I have known very few of the Other Sex, but +some of the girls had had more experience, and in the days before we +went home, we talked a great deal about things. Especially Love. I felt +that it was rather over-done, particularly in fiction. Also I felt and +observed at divers times that I would never marry. It was my intention +to go upon the stage, although modified since by what I am about to +relate. + +The other girls say that I look like Julia Marlowe. + +Some of the girls had boys who wrote to them, and one of them--I refrain +from giving her name had--a Code. You read every third word. He called +her "Cousin" and he would write like this: + + +Dear Cousin: I am well. Am just about crazy this week to go home. See +notice enclosed you football game. + +And so on and on. Only what it really said was "I am crazy to see you." + +(In giving this code I am betraying no secrets, as they have quarreled +and everything is now over between them.) + +As I had nobody, at that time, and as I had visions of a career, I was +a man-hater. I acknowledge that this was a pose. But after all, what is +life but a pose? + +"Stupid things!" I always said. "Nothing in their heads but football and +tobacco smoke. Women," I said, "are only their playthings. And when they +do grow up and get a little intelligence they use it in making money." + +There has been a story in the school--I got it from one of the little +girls--that I was disappointed in love in early youth, the object of my +attachment having been the tenor in our church choir at home. I daresay I +should have denied the soft impeachment, but I did not. It was, although +not appearing so at the time, my first downward step on the path that +leads to destruction. + +"The way of the transgressor is hard"--Bible. + +I come now to the momentous day of my return to my dear home for +Christmas. Father and my sister Leila, who from now on I will term +"Sis," met me at the station. Sis was very elegantly dressed, and she +said: + +"Hello, Kid," and turned her cheek for me to kiss. + +She is, as I have stated, but 20 months older than I, and depends +altogether on her clothes for her beauty. In the morning she is plain, +although having a good skin. She was trimmed up with a bouquet of +violets as large as a dishpan, and she covered them with her hands when +I kissed her. + +She was waved and powdered, and she had on a perfectly new outfit. And +I was shabby. That is the exact word. Shabby. If you have to hang your +entire wardrobe in a closet ten inches deep, and put it over you on cold +nights, with the steam heat shut off at ten o'clock, it does not make it +look any better. + +My father has always been my favorite member of the family, and he was +very glad to see me. He has a great deal of tact, also, and later on he +slipped ten dollars in my purse in the motor. I needed it very much, +as after I had paid the porter and bought luncheon, I had only three +dollars left and an I. O. U. from one of the girls for seventy-five +cents, which this may remind her, if it is read in class, she has +forgotten. + +"Good heavens, Barbara," Sis said, while I hugged father, "you certainly +need to be pressed." + +"I daresay I'll be the better for a hot iron," I retorted, "but at least +I shan't need it on my hair." My hair is curly while hers is straight. + +"Boarding school wit!" she said, and stocked to the motor. + +Mother was in the car and glad to see me, but as usual she managed to +restrain her enthusiasm. She put her hands over some orchids she was +wearing when I kissed her. She and Sis were on their way to something or +other. + +"Trimmed up like Easter hats, you two!" I said. + +"School has not changed you, I fear, Barbara," mother observed. "I hope +you are studying hard." + +"Exactly as hard as I have to. No more, no less," I regret to +confess that I replied. And I saw Sis and mother exchange glances of +significance. + +We dropped them at the reception and father went to his office and I +went on home alone. And all at once I began to be embittered. Sis had +everything, and what had I? And when I got home, and saw that Sis had +had her room done over, and ivory toilet things on her dressing table, +and two perfectly huge boxes of candy on a stand and a ball gown laid +out on the bed, I almost wept. + +My own room was just as I had left it. It had been the night nursery, +and there was still the dent in the mantel where I had thrown a hair +brush at Sis, and the ink spot on the carpet at the foot of the bed, and +everything. + +Mademoiselle had gone, and Hannah, mother's maid, came to help me off +with my things. I slammed the door in her face, and sat down on the bed +and RAGED. + +They still thought I was a little girl. They PATRONIZED me. I would +hardly have been surprised if they had sent up a bread and milk supper +on a tray. It was then and there that I made up my mind to show them +that I was no longer a mere child. That the time was gone when they +could shut me up in the nursery and forget me. I was seventeen years and +eleven days old, and Juliet, in Shakespeare, was only sixteen when she +had her well-known affair with Romeo. + +I had no plan then. It was not until the next afternoon that the thing +sprung (sprang?) fullblown from the head of Jove. + +The evening was rather dreary. The family was going out, but not until +nine thirty, and mother and Leila went over my clothes. They sat, Sis +in pink chiffon and mother in black and silver, and Hannah took out my +things and held them up. I was obliged to silently sit by, while my rags +and misery were exposed. + +"Why this open humiliation?" I demanded at last. "I am the family +Cinderella, I admit it. But it isn't necessary to lay so much emphasis +on it, is it?" + +"Don't be sarcastic, Barbara," said mother. "You are still only a child, +and a very untidy child at that. What do you do with your elbows to rub +them through so? It must have taken patience and application." + +"Mother" I said, "am I to have the party dresses?" + +"Two. Very simple." + +"Low in the neck?" + +"Certainly not. A small v, perhaps." + +"I've got a good neck." She rose impressively. + +"You amaze and shock me, Barbara," she said coldly. + +"I shouldn't have to wear tulle around my shoulders to hide the bones!" +I retorted. "Sis is rather thin." + +"You are a very sharp-tongued little girl," mother said, looking up at +me. I am two inches taller than she is. + +"Unless you learn to curb yourself, there will be no parties for you, +and no party dresses." + +This was the speech that broke the camel's back. I could endure no more. + +"I think," I said, "that I shall get married and end everything." + +Need I explain that I had no serious intention of taking the fatal step? +But it was not deliberate mendacity. It was despair. + +Mother actually went white. She clutched me by the arm and shook me. + +"What are you saying?" she demanded. + +"I think you heard me, mother" I said, very politely. I was however +thinking hard. + +"Marry whom? Barbara, answer me." + +"I don't know. Anybody." + +"She's trying to frighten you, mother" Sis said. "There isn't anybody. +Don't let her fool you." + +"Oh, isn't there?" I said in a dark and portentous manner. + +Mother gave me a long look, and went out. I heard her go into father's +dressing-room. But Sis sat on my bed and watched me. + +"Who is it, Bab?" she asked. "The dancing teacher? Or your riding +master? Or the school plumber?" + +"Guess again." + +"You're just enough of a little simpleton to get tied up to some wretched +creature and disgrace us all." + +I wish to state here that until that moment I had no intention of going +any further with the miserable business. I am naturally truthful, +and deception is hateful to me. But when my sister uttered the above +disparaging remark I saw that, to preserve my own dignity, which I value +above precious stones, I would be compelled to go on. + +"I'm perfectly mad about him," I said. "And he's crazy about me." + +"I'd like very much to know," Sis said, as she stood up and stared at +me, "how much you are making up and how much is true." + +None the less, I saw that she was terrified. The family kitten, to speak +in allegory, had become a lion and showed its claws. + +When she had gone out I tried to think of some one to hang a love affair +to. But there seemed to be nobody. They knew perfectly well that the +dancing master had one eye and three children, and that the clergyman at +school was elderly, with two wives. One dead. + +I searched my past, but it was blameless. It was empty and bare, and +as I looked back and saw how little there had been in it but imbibing +wisdom and playing basket-ball and tennis, and typhoid fever when I +was fourteen and almost having to have my head shaved, a great wave of +bitterness agitated me. + +"Never again," I observed to myself with firmness. "Never again, if I +have to invent a member of the Other Sex." + +At that time, however, owing to the appearance of Hannah with a mending +basket, I got no further than his name. + +It was Harold. I decided to have him dark, with a very small black +mustache, and passionate eyes. I felt, too, that he would be jealous. +The eyes would be of the smoldering type, showing the green-eyed +monster beneath. + +I was very much cheered up. At least they could not ignore me any more, +and I felt that they would see the point. If I was old enough to have +a lover--especially a jealous one with the aforementioned eyes--I was old +enough to have the necks of my frocks cut out. + +While they were getting their wraps on in the lower hall, I counted my +money. I had thirteen dollars. It was enough for a plan I was beginning +to have in mind. + +"Go to bed early, Barbara," mother said when they were ready to go out. + +"You don't mind if I write a letter, do you?" + +"To whom?" + +"Oh, just a letter," I said, and she stared at me coldly. + +"I daresay you will write it, whether I consent or not. Leave it on the +hall table, and it will go out with the morning mail." + +"I may run out to the box with it." + +"I forbid your doing anything of the sort." + +"Oh, very well," I responded meekly. + +"If there is such haste about it, give it to Hannah to mail." + +"Very well," I said. + +She made an excuse to see Hannah before she left, and I knew THAT I WAS +BEING WATCHED. I was greatly excited, and happier than I had been for +weeks. But when I had settled myself in the library, with the paper +in front of me, I could not think of anything to say in a letter. So I +wrote a poem instead.= + +```"To H---- + +```"Dear love: you seem so far away, + +````I would that you were near. + +```I do so long to hear you say + +```Again, 'I love you, dear.'= + +```"Here all is cold and drear and strange + +````With none who with me tarry, + +```I hope that soon we can arrange + +````To run away and marry."= + +The last verse did not scan, exactly, but I wished to use the word +"marry" if possible. It would show, I felt, that things were really +serious and impending. A love affair is only a love affair, but marriage +is marriage, and the end of everything. + +It was at that moment, 10 o'clock, that the strange thing occurred which +did not seem strange at all at the time, but which developed into so +great a mystery later on. Which was to actually threaten my reason and +which, flying on winged feet, was to send me back here to school the +day after Christmas and put my seed pearl necklace in the safe deposit +vault. Which was very unfair, for what had my necklace to do with it? +And just now, when I need comfort, it--the necklace--would help to +relieve my exile. + +Hannah brought me in a cup of hot milk, with a Valentine's malted milk +tablet dissolved in it. + +As I stirred it around, it occurred to me that Valentine would be a good +name for Harold. On the spot I named him Harold Valentine, and I wrote +the name on the envelope that had the poem inside, and addressed it to +the town where this school gets its mail. + +It looked well written out. "Valentine," also, is a word that naturally +connects itself with AFFAIRS DE COUR. And I felt that I was safe, for as +there was no Harold Valentine, he could not call for the letter at the +post office, and would therefore not be able to cause me any trouble, +under any circumstances. And, furthermore. I knew that Hannah would not +mail the letter anyhow, but would give it to mother. So, even if there +was a Harold Valentine, he would never get it. + +Comforted by these reflections, I drank my malted milk, ignorant of +the fact that destiny, "which never swerves, nor yields to men the +helm"--Emerson, was stocking at my heels. + +Between sips, as the expression goes, I addressed the envelope to Harold +Valentine, and gave it to Hannah. She went out the front door with it, +as I had expected, but I watched from a window, and she turned right +around and went in the area way. So THAT was all right. + +It had worked like a Charm. I could tear my hair now when I think how +well it worked. I ought to have been suspicious for that very reason. +When things go very well with me at the start, it is a sure sign that +they are going to blow up eventually. + +Mother and Sis slept late the next morning, and I went out stealthily +and did some shopping. First I bought myself a bunch of violets, with a +white rose in the center, and I printed on the card: + +"My love is like a white, white rose. H." And sent it to myself. + +It was deception, I acknowledge, but having put my hand to the plow, +I did not intend to steer a crooked course. I would go straight to the +end. I am like that in everything I do. But, on deliberating things +over, I felt that Violets, alone and unsupported, were not enough. I felt +that If I had a photograph, it would make everything more real. After +all, what is a love affair without a picture of the Beloved Object? + +So I bought a photograph. It was hard to find what I wanted, but I got +it at last in a stationer's shop, a young man in a checked suit with a +small mustache--the young man, of course, not the suit. Unluckily, he +was rather blonde, and had a dimple in his chin. But he looked exactly +as though his name ought to be Harold. + +I may say here that I chose "Harold," not because it is a favorite name +of mine, but because it is romantic in sound. Also because I had never +known any one named Harold and it seemed only discrete. + +I took it home in my muff and put it under my pillow where Hannah would +find it and probably take it to mother. I wanted to buy a ring too, to +hang on a ribbon around my neck. But the violets had made a fearful hole +in my thirteen dollars. + +I borrowed a stub pen at the stationer's and I wrote on the photograph, +in large, sprawling letters, "To YOU from ME." + +"There," I said to myself, when I put it under the pillow. "You look +like a photograph, but you are really a bomb-shell." + +As things eventuated, it was. More so, indeed. + +Mother sent for me when I came in. She was sitting in front of her +mirror, having the vibrator used on her hair, and her manner was +changed. I guessed that there had been a family counsel over the poem, +and that they had decided to try kindness. + +"Sit down, Barbara," she said. "I hope you were not lonely last night?" + +"I am never lonely, mother. I always have things to think about." + +I said this in a very pathetic tone. + +"What sort of things?" mother asked, rather sharply. + +"Oh--things," I said vaguely. "Life is such a mess, isn't it?" + +"Certainly not. Unless one makes it so." + +"But it is so difficult. Things come up and--and it's hard to know what +to do. The only way, I suppose, is to be true to one's belief in one's +self." + +"Take that thing off my head and go out, Hannah," mother snapped. "Now +then, Barbara, what in the world has come over you?" + +"Over me? Nothing." + +"You are being a silly child." + +"I am no longer a child, mother. I am seventeen. And at seventeen there +are problems. After all, one's life is one's own. One must decide----" + +"Now, Barbara, I am not going to have any nonsense. You must put that +man out of your head." + +"Man? What man?" + +"You think you are in love with some driveling young Fool. I'm not +blind, or an idiot. And I won't have it." + +"I have not said that there is anyone, have I?" I said in a gentle +voice. "But if there was, just what would you propose to do, mother?" + +"If you were three years younger I'd propose to spank you." Then I +think she saw that she was taking the wrong method, for she changed her +tactics. "It's the fault of that silly school," she said. (Note: +These are my mother's words, not mine.) "They are hotbeds of sickly +sentimentality. They----" + +And just then the violets came, addressed to me. Mother opened them +herself, her mouth set. "My love is like a white, white rose," she said. +"Barbara, do you know who sent these?" + +"Yes, mother," I said meekly. This was quite true. I did. + +I am indeed sorry to record that here my mother lost her temper, and +there was no end of a fuss. It ended by mother offering me a string of +seed pearls for Christmas, and my party dresses cut V front and back, if +I would, as she phrased it, "put him out of my silly head." + +"I shall have to write one letter, mother," I said, "to--to break things +off. I cannot tear myself out of another's life without a word." + +She sniffed. + +"Very well," she said. "One letter. I trust you to make it only one." + +I come now to the next day. How true it is, that "Man's life is but a +jest, a dream, a shadow, bubble, air, a vapor at the best!" + +I spent the morning with mother at the dressmakers and she chose two +perfectly spiffing things, one of white chiffon over silk, made modified +Empire, with little bunches of roses here and there on it, and when she +and the dressmaker were haggling over the roses, I took the scissors and +cut the neck of the lining two inches lower in front. The effect was +positively impressive. The other was blue over orchid, a perfectly +passionate combination. + +When we got home some of the girls had dropped in, and Carter Brooks +and Sis were having tea in the den. I am perfectly sure that Sis threw +a cigarette in the fire when I went in. When I think of my sitting here +alone, when I have done NOTHING, and Sis playing around and smoking +cigarettes, and nothing said, all for a difference of 20 months, it +makes me furious. + +"Let's go in and play with the children, Leila," he said. "I'm feeling +young today." + +Which was perfectly silly. He is not Methuselah. Although thinking +himself so, or almost. + +Well, they went into the drawing room. Elaine Adams was there waiting +for me, and Betty Anderson and Jane Raleigh. And I hadn't been in the +room five minutes before I knew that they all knew. It turned out later +that Hannah was engaged to the Adams' butler, and she had told him, +and he had told Elaine's governess, who is still there and does the +ordering, and Elaine sends her stockings home for her to darn. + +Sis had told Carter, too, I saw that, and among them they had rather +a good time. Carter sat down at the piano and struck a few chords, +chanting "My Love is like a white, white rose." + +"Only you know" he said, turning to me, "that's wrong. It ought to be a +'red, red rose.'" + +"Certainly not. The word is 'white.'" + +"Oh, is it?" he said, with his head on one side. "Strange that both you +and Harold should have got it wrong." + +I confess to a feeling of uneasiness at that moment. + +Tea came, and Carter insisted on pouring. + +"I do so love to pour!" he said. "Really, after a long day's shopping, +tea is the only thing that keeps me going until dinner. Cream or lemon, +Leila dear?" + +"Both," Sis said in an absent manner, with her eyes on me. "Barbara, +come into the den a moment. I want to show you mother's Christmas gift." + +She stocked in ahead of me, and lifted a book from the table. Under it +was the photograph. + +"You wretched child!" she said. "Where did you get that?" + +"That's not your affair, is it?" + +"I'm going to make it my affair. Did he give it to you?" + +"Have you read what's written on it?" + +"Where did you meet him?" + +I hesitated because I am by nature truthful. But at last I said: + +"At school." + +"Oh," she said slowly. "So you met him at school! What was he doing +there? Teaching elocution?" + +"Elocution!" + +"This is Harold, is it?" + +"Certainly." Well, he WAS Harold, if I chose to call him that, wasn't +he? Sis gave a little sigh. + +"You're quite hopeless, Bab. And, although I'm perfectly sure you want +me to take the thing to mother, I'll do nothing of the sort." + +SHE FLUNG IT INTO THE FIRE. I was raging. It had cost me a dollar. It +was quite brown when I got it out, and a corner was burned off. But I +got it. + +"I'll thank you to burn your own things," I said with dignity. And I +went back to the drawing room. + +The girls and Carter Brooks were talking in an undertone when I got +there. I knew it was about me. And Jane came over to me and put her arm +around me. + +"You poor thing!" she said. "Just fight it out. We're all with you." + +"I'm so helpless, Jane." I put all the despair I could into my voice. +For after all, if they were going to talk about my private affairs +behind my back, I felt that they might as well have something to talk +about. As Jane's second cousin once removed is in this school and as +Jane will probably write her all about it, I hope this theme is read +aloud in class, so she will get it all straight. Jane is imaginative and +may have a wrong idea of things. + +"Don't give in. Let them bully you. They can't really do anything. And +they're scared. Leila is positively sick." + +"I've promised to write and break it off," I said in a tense tone. + +"If he really loves you," said Jane, "the letter won't matter." There +was a thrill in her voice. Had I not been uneasy at my deceit, I to +would have thrilled. + +Some fresh muffins came in just then and I was starving. But I waved +them away, and stood staring at the fire. + +I am writing all of this as truthfully as I can. I am not defending +myself. What I did I was driven to, as any one can see. It takes a real +shock to make the average family wake up to the fact that the youngest +daughter is not the family baby at seventeen. All I was doing was +furnishing the shock. If things turned out badly, as they did, it +was because I rather overdid the thing. That is all. My motives were +perfectly irreproachable. + +Well, they fell on the muffins like pigs, and I could hardly stand it. +So I wandered into the den, and it occurred to me to write the letter +then. I felt that they all expected me to do something anyhow. + +If I had never written the wretched letter things would be better now. +As I say, I overdid. But everything had gone so smoothly all day that I +was deceived. But the real reason was a new set of furs. I had secured +the dresses and the promise of the necklace on a poem and a photograph, +and I thought that a good love letter might bring a muff. It all shows +that it does not do to be grasping. + +HAD I NOT WRITTEN THE LETTER, THERE WOULD HAVE BEEN NO TRAGEDY. + +But I wrote it and if I do say it, it was a LETTER. I commenced it +"Darling," and I said I was mad to see him, and that I would always love +him. But I told him that the family objected to him, and that this was +to end everything between us. They had started the phonograph in the +library, and were playing "The Rosary." So I ended with a verse from +that. It was really a most affecting letter. I almost wept over it +myself, because, if there had been a Harold, it would have broken his +Heart. + +Of course I meant to give it to Hannah to mail, and she would give it to +mother. Then, after the family had read it and it had got in its work, +including the set of furs, they were welcome to mail it. It would go +to the dead letter office, since there was no Harold. It could not come +back to me, for I had only signed it "Barbara." I had it all figured out +carefully. It looked as if I had everything to gain, including the furs, +and nothing to lose. Alas, how little I knew! + +"The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft allay." Burns. + +Carter Brooks ambled into the room just as I sealed it and stood gazing +down at me. + +"You're quite a Person these days, Bab," he said. "I suppose all the +customary Xmas kisses are being saved this year for what's his name." + +"I don't understand you." + +"For Harold. You know, Bab, I think I could bear up better if his name +wasn't Harold." + +"I don't see how it concerns you," I responded. + +"Don't you? With me crazy about you for lo, these many years! First as +a baby, then as a sub-sub-deb, and now as a sub-deb. Next year, when you +are a real debutante----" + +"You've concealed your infatuation bravely." + +"It's been eating me inside. A green and yellow melancholy--hello! A +letter to him!" + +"Why, so it is," I said in a scornful tone. + +He picked it up, and looked at it. Then he started and stared at me. + +"No!" he said. "It isn't possible! It isn't old Valentine!" + +Positively, my knees got cold. I never had such a shock. + +"It--it certainly is Harold Valentine," I said feebly. + +"Old Hal!" he muttered. "Well, who would have thought it! And not a word +to me about it, the secretive old duffer!" He held out his hand to me. +"Congratulations, Barbara," he said heartily. "Since you absolutely +refuse me, you couldn't do better. He's the finest chap I know. If it's +Valentine the family is kicking up such a row about, you leave it to +me. I'll tell them a few things." + +I was stunned. Would anybody have believed it? To pick a name out of the +air, so to speak, and off a malted milk tablet, and then to find that it +actually belonged to some one--was sickening. + +"It may not be the one you know" I said desperately. "It--it's a common +name. There must be plenty of Valentines." + +"Sure there are, lace paper and cupids--lots of that sort. But there's +only one Harold Valentine, and now you've got him pinned to the wall! +I'll tell you what I'll do, Barbara. I'm a real friend of yours. Always +have been. Always will be. The chances are against the family letting +him get this letter. I'll give it to him." + +"GIVE it to him?" + +"Why, he's here. You know that, don't you? He's in town over the +holidays." + +"Oh, no!" I said in a gasping Voice. + +"Sorry," he said. "Probably meant it as a surprise to you. Yes, he's +here, with bells on." + +He then put the letter in his pocket before my very eyes, and sat down +on the corner of the writing table! + +"You don't know how all this has relieved my mind," he said. "The poor +chap's been looking down. Not interested in anything. Of course this +explains it. He's the sort to take Love hard. At college he took +everything hard--like to have died once with German measles." + +He picked up a book, and the charred picture was underneath. He pounced +on it. "Pounced" is exactly the right word. + +"Hello!" he said, "family again, I suppose. Yes, it's Hal, all right. +Well, who would have thought it!" + +My last hope died. Then and there I had a nervous chill. I was compelled +to prop my chin on my hand to keep my teeth from chattering. + +"Tell you what I'll do," he said, in a perfectly cheerful tone that +made me cold all over. "I'll be the cupid for your Valentine. See? +Far be it from me to see love's young dream wiped out by a hardhearted +family. I'm going to see this thing through. You count on me, Barbara. +I'll arrange that you get a chance to see each other, family or no +family. Old Hal has been looking down his nose long enough. When's your +first party?" + +"Tomorrow night," I gasped out. + +"Very well. Tomorrow night it is. It's the Adams', isn't it, at the +Club?" + +I could only nod. I was beyond speaking. I saw it all clearly. I had +been wicked in deceiving my dear family and now I was to pay the +penalty. He would know at once that I had made him up, or rather he did +not know me and therefore could not possibly be in Love with me. And +what then? + +"But look here," he said, "if I take him there as Valentine, the family +will be on, you know. We'd better call him something else. Got any +choice as to a name?" + +"Carter" I said frantically. "I think I'd better tell you. I----" + +"How about calling him Grosvenor?". he babbled on. "Grosvenor's a good +name. Ted Grosvenor--that ought to hit them between the eyes. It's going +to be rather a lark, Miss Bab!" + +And of course just then mother came in, and the Brooks idiot went in +and poured her a cup of tea, with his little finger stuck out at a right +angel, and every time he had a chance he winked at me. + +I wanted to die. + +When they had all gone home it seemed like a bad dream, the whole thing. +It could not be true. I went upstairs and manicured my nails, which +usually comforts me, and put my hair up like Leila's. + +But nothing could calm me. I had made my own fate, and must lie in it. +And just then Hannah slipped in with a box in her hands and her eyes +frightened. + +"Oh, Miss Barbara!" she said. "If your mother sees this!" + +I dropped my manicure scissors, I was so alarmed. But I opened the box, +and clutched the envelope inside. It said "from H----." Then Carter was +right. There was an H after all! + +Hannah was rolling her hands in her apron and her eyes were popping out +of her head. + +"I just happened to see the boy at the door," she said, with her silly +teeth chattering. "Oh, Miss Barbara, if Patrick had answered the bell! +What shall we do with them?" + +"You take them right down the back stairs," I said. "As if it was an +empty box. And put it outside with the waist papers. Quick." + +She gathered the thing up, but of course mother had to come in just +then and they met in the doorway. She saw it all in one glance, and she +snatched the card out of my hand. + +"From H----!" she read. "Take them out, Hannah, and throw them away. No, +don't do that. Put them on the Servant's table." Then, when the door +had closed, she turned to me. "Just one more ridiculous episode of this +kind, Barbara," she said, "and you go back to school--Christmas or no +Christmas." + +I will say this. If she had shown the faintest softness, I'd have told +her the whole thing. But she did not. She looked exactly as gentle as a +macadam pavement. I am one who has to be handled with gentleness. A +kind word will do anything with me, but harsh treatment only makes me +determined. I then become inflexible as iron. + +That is what happened then. Mother took the wrong course and threatened, +which as I have stated is fatal, as far as I am concerned. I refused +to yield an inch, and it ended in my having my dinner in my room, and +mother threatening to keep me home from the party the next night. It was +not a threat, if she had only known it. + +But when the next day went by, with no more flowers, and nothing +apparently wrong except that mother was very dignified with me, I began +to feel better. Sis was out all day, and in the afternoon Jane called me +up. + +"How are you?" she said. + +"Oh, I'm all right." + +"Everything smooth?" + +"Well, smooth enough." + +"Oh, Bab," she said. "I'm just crazy about it. All the girls are." + +"I knew they were crazy about something." + +"You poor thing, no wonder you are bitter," she said. "Somebody's +coming. I'll have to ring off. But don't you give in, Bab. Not an inch. +Marry your heart's desire, no matter who butts in." + +Well, you can see how it was. Even then I could have told father and +mother, and got out of it somehow. But all the girls knew about it, and +there was nothing to do but go on. + +All that day every time I thought of the Party my heart missed a beat. +But as I would not lie and say that I was ill--I am naturally truthful, +as far as possible--I was compelled to go, although my heart was +breaking. + +I am not going to write much about the party, except a slight +description, which properly belongs in every theme. + +All Parties for the school set are alike. The boys range from +knickerbockers to college men in their freshmen year, and one is likely +to dance half the evening with youngsters that one saw last in their +perambulators. It is rather startling to have about six feet of black +trouser legs and white shirt front come and ask one to dance and then +to get one's eyes raised as far as the top of what looks like a +particularly thin pair of tree trunks and see a little boy's face. + +As this theme is to contain description I shall describe the ball room +of the club where the eventful party occurred. + +The ball room is white, with red hangings, and looks like a Charlotte +Russe with maraschino cherries. Over the fireplace they had put "Merry +Christmas," in electric lights, and the chandeliers were made into +Christmas trees and hung with colored balls. One of the balls fell +off during the cotillion, and went down the back of one of the girl's +dresses, and they were compelled to up-end her and shake her out in the +dressing room. + +The favors were insignificant, as usual. It is not considered good taste +to have elaborate things for the school crowd. But when I think of the +silver things Sis always brought home, and remember that I took away +about six Christmas stockings, a toy balloon, four whistles, a wooden +canary in a cage and a box of talcum powder, I feel that things are not +fair in this World. + +Hannah went with me, and in the motor she said: + +"Oh, Miss Barbara, do be careful. The family is that upset." + +"Don't be a silly," I said. "And if the family is half as upset as I +am, it is throwing a fit at this minute." + +We were early, of course. My mother believes in being on time, and +besides, she and Sis wanted the motor later. And while Hannah was on her +knees taking off my carriage boots, I suddenly decided that I could not +go down. Hannah turned quite pale when I told her. + +"What will your mother say?" she said. "And you with your new dress and +all! It's as much as my life is worth to take you back home now, Miss +Barbara." + +Well, that was true enough. There would be a riot if I went home, and I +knew it. + +"I'll see the steward and get you a cup of tea," Hannah said. "Tea sets +me up like anything when I'm nervous. Now please be a good girl, Miss +Barbara, and don't run off, or do anything foolish." + +She wanted me to promise, but I would not, although I could not have run +anywhere. My legs were entirely numb. + +In a half hour at the utmost I knew all would be known, and very likely +I would be a homeless wanderer on the earth. For I felt that never, never +could I return to my dear ones, when my terrible actions became known. + +Jane came in while I was sipping the tea and she stood off and eyed me +with sympathy. + +"I don't wonder, Bab!" she said. "The idea of your family acting so +outrageously! And look here" She bent over me and whispered it. "Don't +trust Carter too much. He is perfectly infatuated with Leila, and he +will play into the hands of the enemy. BE CAREFUL." + +"Loathsome creature!" was my response. "As for trusting him, I trust no +one, these days." + +"I don't wonder your faith is gone," she observed. But she was talking +with one eye on a mirror. + +"Pink makes me pale," she said. "I'll bet the maid has a drawer full of +rouge. I'm going to see. How about a touch for you? You look ghastly." + +"I don't care how I look," I said, recklessly. "I think I'll sprain my +ankle and go home. Anyhow I am not allowed to use rouge." + +"Not allowed!" she observed. "What has that got to do with it? I don't +understand you, Bab; you are totally changed." + +"I am suffering," I said. I was to. + +Just then the maid brought me a folded note. Hannah was hanging up my +wraps, and did not see it. Jane's eyes fairly bulged. + +"I hope you have saved the cotillion for me," it said. And it was +signed. H----! + +"Good gracious," Jane said breathlessly. "Don't tell me he is here, and +that that's from him!" + +I had to swallow twice before I could speak. Then I said, solemnly: + +"He is here, Jane. He has followed me. I am going to dance the cotillion +with him although I shall probably be disinherited and thrown out into +the world, as a result." + +I have no recollection whatever of going down the staircase and into the +ballroom. Although I am considered rather brave, and once saved one of +the smaller girls from drowning, as I need not remind the school, when +she was skating on thin ice, I was frightened. I remember that, inside +the door, Jane said "Courage!" in a low tense voice, and that I stepped +on somebody's foot and said "Certainly" instead of apologizing. The +shock of that brought me around somewhat, and I managed to find Mrs. +Adams and Elaine, and not disgrace myself. Then somebody at my elbow +said: + +"All right, Barbara. Everything's fixed." + +It was Carter. + +"He's waiting in the corner over there," he said. "We'd better go +through the formality of an introduction. He's positively twittering +with excitement." + +"Carter" I said desperately. "I want to tell you something first. I've +got myself in an awful mess. I----" + +"Sure you have," he said. "That's why I'm here, to help you out. Now +you be calm, and there's no reason why you two can't have the evening of +your young lives. I wish I could fall in love. It must be bully." + +"Carter----!" + +"Got his note, didn't you?" + +"Yes, I----" + +"Here we are," said Carter. "Miss Archibald, I would like to present Mr. +Grosvenor." + +Somebody bowed in front of me, and then straightened up and looked down +at me. IT WAS THE MAN OF THE PICTURE, LITTLE MUSTACHE AND ALL. My mouth +went perfectly dry. + +It is all very well to talk about Romance and Love, and all that sort +of thing. But I have concluded that amorous experiences are not always +agreeable. And I have discovered something else. The moment anybody is +crazy about me I begin to hate him. It is curious, but I am like that. I +only care as long as they, or he, is far away. And the moment I touched +H's white kid glove, I knew I loathed him. + +"Now go to it, you two," Carter said in cautious tone. "Don't be +conspicuous. That's all." + +And he left us. + +"Suppose we dance this. Shall we?" said H. And the next moment we were +gliding off. He danced very well. I will say that. But at the time I was +too much occupied with hating him to care about dancing, or anything. +But I was compelled by my pride to see things through. We are a very +proud family and never show our troubles, though our hearts be torn +with anguish. + +"Think," he said, when we had got away from the band, "think of our +being together like this!" + +"It's not so surprising, is it? We've got to be together if we are +dancing." + +"Not that. Do you know, I never knew so long a day as this has been. The +thought of meeting you--er--again, and all that." + +"You needn't rave for my benefit," I said freezingly. "You know +perfectly well that you never saw me before." + +"Barbara! With your dear little letter in my breast pocket at this +moment!" + +"I didn't know men had breast pockets in their evening clothes." + +"Oh well, have it your own way. I'm too happy to quarrel," he said. "How +well you dance--only, let me lead, won't you? How strange it is to think +that we have never danced together before!" + +"We must have a talk," I said desperately. "Can't we go somewhere, away +from the noise?" + +"That would be conspicuous, wouldn't it, under the circumstances? If we +are to overcome the family objection to me, we'll have to be cautious, +Barbara." + +"Don't call me Barbara," I snapped. "I know perfectly well what you +think of me, and I----" + +"I think you are wonderful," he said. "Words fail me when I try to tell +you what I am thinking. You've saved the cotillion for me, haven't you? +If not, I'm going to claim it anyhow. IT IS MY RIGHT." + +He said it in the most determined manner, as if everything was settled. +I felt like a rat in a trap, and Carter, watching from a corner, looked +exactly like a cat. If he had taken his hand in its white glove and +washed his face with it, I would hardly have been surprised. + +The music stopped, and somebody claimed me for the next. Jane came up, +too, and clutched my arm. + +"You lucky thing!" she said. "He's perfectly handsome. And oh, Bab, he's +wild about you. I can see it in his eyes." + +"Don't pinch, Jane," I said coldly. "And don't rave. He's an idiot." + +She looked at me with her mouth open. + +"Well, if you don't want him, pass him on to me," she said, and walked +away. + +It was too silly, after everything that had happened, to dance the next +dance with Willie Graham, who is still in knickerbockers, and a full +head shorter than I am. But that's the way with a Party for the school +crowd, as I've said before. They ask all ages, from perambulators up, +and of course the little boys all want to dance with the older girls. It +is deadly stupid. + +But H seemed to be having a good time. He danced a lot with Jane, who +is a wretched dancer, with no sense of time whatever. Jane is not pretty, +but she has nice eyes, and I am not afraid, second cousin once removed +or no second cousin once removed, to say she used them. + +Altogether, it was a terrible evening. I danced three dances out of four +with knickerbockers, and one with old Mr. Adams, who is fat and rotates +his partner at the corners by swinging her on his waistcoat. Carter did +not dance at all, and every time I tried to speak to him he was taking a +crowd of the little girls to the fruit-punch bowl. + +I determined to have things out with H during the cotillion, and tell +him that I would never marry him, that I would die first. But I was +favored a great deal, and when we did have a chance the music was making +such a noise that I would have had to shout. Our chairs were next to the +band. + +But at last we had a minute, and I went out to the verandah, which was +closed in with awnings. He had to follow, of course, and I turned and +faced him. + +"Now" I said, "this has got to stop." + +"I don't understand you, Bab." + +"You do, perfectly well," I stormed. "I can't stand it. I am going +crazy." + +"Oh," he said slowly. "I see. I've been dancing too much with the +little girl with the eyes! Honestly, Bab, I was only doing it to disarm +suspicion. MY EVERY THOUGHT IS OF YOU." + +"I mean," I said, as firmly as I could, "that this whole thing has got +to stop. I can't stand it." + +"Am I to understand," he said solemnly, "that you intend to end +everything?" + +I felt perfectly wild and helpless. + +"After that Letter!" he went on. "After that sweet Letter! You said, you +know, that you were mad to see me, and that--it is almost too sacred +to repeat, even to YOU--that you would always love me. After that +Confession I refuse to agree that all is over. It can NEVER be over." + +"I daresay I am losing my mind," I said. "It all sounds perfectly +natural. But it doesn't mean anything. There CAN'T be any Harold +Valentine; because I made him up. But there is, so there must be. And I +am going crazy." + +"Look here," he stormed, suddenly quite raving, and throwing out his +right hand. It would have been terribly dramatic, only he had a glass of +punch in it. "I am not going to be played with. And you are not going to +jilt me without a reason. Do you mean to deny everything? Are you going +to say, for instance, that I never sent you any violets? Or gave you my +Photograph, with an--er--touching inscription on it?" Then, appealingly, +"You can't mean to deny that Photograph, Bab!" + +And then that lanky wretch of an Eddie Perkins brought me a toy balloon, +and I had to dance, with my heart crushed. + +Nevertheless, I ate a fair supper. I felt that I needed Strength. It was +quite a grown-up supper, with bullion and creamed chicken and baked ham +and sandwiches, among other things. But of course they had to show it +was a 'kid' party, after all. For instead of coffee we had milk. + +Milk! When I was going through a tragedy. For if it is not a tragedy +to be engaged to a man one never saw before, what is it? + +All through the refreshments I could feel that his eyes were on me. And +I hated him. It was all well enough for Jane to say he was handsome. She +wasn't going to have to marry him. I detest dimples in chins. I always +have. And anybody could see that it was his first mustache, and +soft, and that he took it round like a mother pushing a new baby in a +perambulator. It was sickening. + +I left just after supper. He did not see me when I went upstairs, but +he had missed me, for when Hannah and I came down, he was at the door, +waiting. Hannah was loaded down with silly favors, and lagged behind, +which gave him a chance to speak to me. I eyed him coldly and tried to +pass him, but I had no chance. + +"I'll see you tomorrow, DEAREST," he whispered. + +"Not if I can help it," I said, looking straight ahead. Hannah had +dropped a stocking--not her own. One of the Christmas favors--and was +fumbling about for it. + +"You are tired and unnerved to-night, Bab. When I have seen your father +tomorrow, and talked to him----" + +"Don't you dare to see my father." + +"----and when he has agreed to what I propose," he went on, without +paying any attention to what I had said, "you will be calmer. We can plan +things." + +Hannah came puffing up then, and he helped us into the motor. He was +very careful to see that we were covered with the robes, and he tucked +Hannah's feet in. She was awfully flattered. Old Fool! And she babbled +about him until I wanted to slap her. + +"He's a nice young man. Miss Bab," she said. "That is, if he's the One. +And he has nice manners. So considerate. Many a party I've taken your +sister to, and never before----" + +"I wish you'd shut up, Hannah," I said. "He's a pig, and I hate him." + +She sulked after that, and helped me out of my things at home without a +word. When I was in bed, however, and she was hanging up my clothes, she +said: + +"I don't know what's got into you, Miss Barbara. You are that cross that +there's no living with you." + +"Oh, go away," I said. + +"And what's more," she added, "I don't know but what your mother ought +to know about these goings on. You're only a little girl, with all your +high and mightiness, and there's going to be no scandal in this family +if I can help it." + +I put the bedclothes over my head, and she went out. + +But of course I could not sleep. Sis was not home yet, or mother, and I +went into Sis's room and got a novel from her table. It was the story of +a woman who had married a man in a hurry, and without really loving him, +and when she had been married a year, and hated the very way her husband +drank his coffee and cut the ends off his cigars, she found some one she +really loved with her whole heart. And it was too late. But she wrote +him one letter, the other man, you know, and it caused a lot of trouble. +So she said--I remember the very words-- + +"Half the troubles in the world are caused by letters. Emotions are +changeable things"--this was after she had found that she really loved +her husband after all, but he had had to shoot himself before she found +it out, although not fatally--"but the written word does not change. It +remains always, embodying a dead truth and giving it apparent life. No +woman should ever put her thoughts on paper." + +She got the letter back, but she had to steal it. And it turned out that +the other man had really only wanted her money all the time. + +That story was a real illumination to me. I shall have a great deal of +money when I am of age, from my grandmother. I saw it all. It was a trap +sure enough. And if I was to get out I would have to have the letter. + +IT WAS THE LETTER THAT PUT ME IN HIS POWER. + +The next day was Christmas. I got a lot of things, including the necklace, +and a mending basket from Sis, with the hope that it would make me +tidy, and father had bought me a set of silver fox, which mother +did not approve of, it being too expensive for a young girl to wear, +according to her. I must say that for an hour or two I was happy enough. + +But the afternoon was terrible. We keep open house on Xmas afternoon, +and father makes a champagne punch, and somebody pours tea, although +nobody drinks it, and there are little cakes from the club, and the +house is decorated with poinsettias. + +At eleven o'clock the mail came in, and mother sorted it over, while +father took a gold piece out to the post-man. + +There were about a million cards, and mother glanced at the addresses +and passed them round. But suddenly she frowned. There was a small +parcel, addressed to me. + +"This looks like a gift, Barbara," she said. And proceeded to open it. + +My heart skipped two beats, and then hammered. Mother's mouth was set as +she tore off the paper and opened the box. There was a card, which she +glanced at, and underneath, was a book of poems. + +"Love Lyrics," said mother, in a terrible voice. "To Barbara, from +H----" + +"Mother----" I began, in an earnest tone. + +"A child of mine receiving such a book from a man!" she went on. +"Barbara, I am speechless." + +But she was not speechless. If she was speechless for the next half +hour, I would hate to hear her really converse. And all that I could do +was to bear it. For I had made a Frankenstein--see the book read last +term by the Literary Society--not out of grave-yard fragments, but from +malted milk tablets, so to speak, and now it was pursuing me to an early +grave. For I felt that I simply could not continue to live. + +"Now--where does he live?" + +"I--don't know, mother." + +"You sent him a letter." + +"I don't know where he lives, anyhow." + +"Leila," mother said, "will you ask Hannah to bring my smelling salts?" + +"Aren't you going to give me the book?" I asked. "It--it sounds +interesting." + +"You are shameless," mother said, and threw the thing into the fire. A +good many of my things seemed to be going into the fire at that time. I +cannot help wondering what they would have done if it had all happened +in the summer, and no fires burning. They would have felt quite +helpless, I imagine. + +Father came back just then, but he did not see the book, which was then +blazing with a very hot red flame. I expected mother to tell him, and I +daresay I should not have been surprised to see my furs follow the book. +I had got into the way of expecting to see things burning that do not +belong in a fireplace. But mother did not tell him. + + +I have thought over this a great deal, and I believe that now I +understand. Mother was unjustly putting the blame for everything on this +School, and mother had chosen the School. My father had not been much +impressed by the catalog. "Too much dancing room and not enough tennis +courts," he had said. This, of course, is my father's opinion. Not mine. + +The real reason, then, for mother's silence was that she disliked +confessing that she made a mistake in her choice of a School. + +I ate very little luncheon and my only comfort was my seed pearls. I was +wearing them, for fear the door-bell would ring, and a letter or flowers +would arrive from H. In that case I felt quite sure that someone, in a +frenzy, would burn the pearls also. + +The afternoon was terrible. It rained solid sheets, and Patrick, the +butler, gave notice three hours after he had received his Christmas +presents, on account of not being let off for early mass. + +But my father's punch is famous, and people came, and stood around and +buzzed, and told me I had grown and was almost a young lady. And Tommy +Gray got out of his cradle and came to call on me, and coughed all the +time, with a whoop. He developed the whooping cough later. He had on his +first long trousers, and a pair of lavender socks and a tie to match. He +said they were not exactly the same shade, but he did not think it would +be noticed. Hateful child! + +At half past five, when the place was jammed, I happened to look up. +Carter Brooks was in the hall, and behind him was H. He had seen me +before I saw him, and he had a sort of sickly grin, meant to denote +joy. I was talking to our bishop at the time, and he was asking me what +sort of services we had in the school chapel. + +I meant to say "non-sectarian," but in my surprise and horror I regret +to say that I said, "vegetarian." Carter Brooks came over to me like a +cat to a saucer of milk, and pulled me off into a corner. + +"It's all right," he said. "I phoned mama, and she said to bring him. +He's known as Grosvenor here, of course. They'll never suspect a thing. +Now, do I get a small 'thank you'?" + +"I won't see him." + +"Now look here, Bab," he protested, "you two have got to make this thing +up You are a pair of idiots, quarreling over nothing. Poor old Hal is +all broken up. He's sensitive. You've got to remember how sensitive he +is." + +"Go, away" I cried, in broken tones. "Go away, and take him with you." + +"Not until he had spoken to your Father," he observed, setting his jaw. +"He's here for that, and you know it. You can't play fast and loose with +a man, you know." + +"Don't you dare to let him speak to father!" + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"That's between you two, of course," he said. "It's not up to me. Tell +him yourself, if you've changed your mind. I don't intend," he went on, +impressively, "to have any share in ruining his life." + +"Oh piffle," I said. I am aware that this is slang, and does not belong +in a theme. But I was driven to saying it. + +I got through the crowd by using my elbows. I am afraid I gave +the bishop quite a prod, and I caught Mr. Andrews on his rotating +waistcoat. But I was desperate. + +Alas, I was too late. + +The caterer's man, who had taken Patrick's place in a hurry, was at the +punch bowl, and father was gone. I was just in time to see him take H. +into his library and close the door. + +Here words fail me. I knew perfectly well that beyond that door H, whom +I had invented and who therefore simply did not exist, was asking for my +hand. I made up my mind at once to run away and go on the stage, and +I had even got part way up the stairs, when I remembered that, with +a dollar for the picture and five dollars for the violets and three +dollars for the hat pin I had given Sis, and two dollars and a quarter +for mother's handkerchief case, I had exactly a dollar and seventy-five +cents in the world. + +I WAS TRAPPED. + +I went up to my room, and sat and waited. Would father be violent, and +throw H. out and then come upstairs, pale with fury and disinherit me? +Or would the whole family conspire together, when the people had gone, +and send me to a convent? I made up my mind, if it was the convent, to +take the veil and be a nun. I would go to nurse lepers, or something, +and then, when it was too late, they would be sorry. + +The stage or the convent, nun or actress? Which? + +I left the door open, but there was only the sound of revelry below. +I felt then that it was to be the convent. I pinned a towel around my +face, the way the nuns wear whatever they call them, and from the side +it was very becoming. I really did look like Julia Marlowe, especially as +my face was very sad and tragic. + +At something before seven every one had gone, and I heard Sis and mother +come upstairs to dress for dinner. I sat and waited, and when I heard +father I got cold all over. But he went on by, and I heard him go into +mother's room and close the door. Well, I knew I had to go through with +it, although my life was blasted. So I dressed and went downstairs. + +Father was the first down. HE CAME DOWN WHISTLING. + +It is perfectly true. I could not believe my ears. + +He approached me with a smiling face. + +"Well, Bab," he said, exactly as if nothing had happened, "have you had +a nice day?" + +He had the eyes of a basilisk, that creature of fable. + +"I've had a lovely day, Father," I replied. I could be basilisk-ish +also. + +There is a mirror over the drawing room mantle, and he turned me around +until we both faced it. + +"Up to my ears," he said, referring to my height. "And lovers already! +Well, I daresay we must make up our minds to lose you." + +"I won't be lost," I declared, almost violently. "Of course, if you +intend to shove me off your hands, to the first idiot who comes along +and pretends a lot of stuff, I----" + +"My dear child!" said father, looking surprised. "Such an outburst! All +I was trying to say, before your mother comes down, is that I--well, +that I understand and that I shall not make my little girl unhappy +by--er--by breaking her heart." + +"Just what do you mean by that, father?" + +He looked rather uncomfortable, being one who hates to talk sentiment. + +"It's like this, Barbara," he said. "If you want to marry this young +man--and you have made it very clear that you do--I am going to see that +you do it. You are young, of course, but after all your dear mother was +not much older than you are when I married her." + +"Father!" I cried, from an over-flowing heart. + +"I have noticed that you are not happy, Barbara," he said. "And I shall +not thwart you, or allow you to be thwarted. In affairs of the heart, +you are to have your own way." + +"I want to tell you something!" I cried. "I will NOT be cast off! I----" + +"Tut, tut," said Father. "Who is casting you off? I tell you that I +like the young man, and give you my blessing, or what is the present-day +equivalent for it, and you look like a figure of tragedy!" + +But I could endure no more. My own father had turned on me and was +rending me, so to speak. With a breaking heart and streaming eyes I flew +to my chamber. + +There, for hours I paced the floor. + +Never, I determined, would I marry H. Better death, by far. He was a +scheming fortune-hunter, but to tell the family that was to confess all. +And I would never confess. I would run away before I gave Sis such a +chance at me. I would run away, but first I would kill Carter Brooks. + +Yes, I was driven to thoughts of murder. It shows how the first false +step leads down and down, to crime and even to death. Oh never, never, +gentle reader, take that first false step. Who knows to what it may +lead! + +"One false Step is never retrieved." Gray--On a Favorite Cat. + +I reflected also on how the woman in the book had ruined her life with +a letter. "The written word does not change," she had said. "It remains +always, embodying a dead truth and giving it apparent life." + +"Apparent life" was exactly what my letter had given to H. Frankenstein. +That was what I called him, in my agony. I felt that if only I had never +written the Letter there would have been no trouble. And another awful +thought came to me: Was there an H after all? Could there be an H? + +Once the French teacher had taken us to the theater in New York, and a +woman sitting on a chair and covered with a sheet, had brought a man out +of a perfectly empty cabinet, by simply willing to do it. The cabinet +was empty, for four respectable looking men went up and examined it, and +one even measured it with a Tape-measure. + +She had materialized him, out of nothing. + +And while I had had no cabinet, there are many things in this world +"that we do not dream of in our philosophy." Was H. a real person, or +a creature of my disordered brain? In plain and simple language, COULD +THERE BE SUCH A PERSON? + +I feared not. + +And if there was no H, really, and I married him, where would I be? + +There was a ball at the Club that night, and the family all went. No +one came to say good-night to me, and by half past ten I was alone with +my misery. I knew Carter Brooks would be at the ball, and H also, very +likely, dancing around as agreeably as if he really existed, and I had +not made him up. + +I got the book from Sis's room again, and re-read it. The woman in it +had been in great trouble, too, with her husband cleaning his revolver +and making his will. And at last she had gone to the apartments of the +man who had her letters, in a taxicab covered with a heavy veil, and had +got them back. He had shot himself when she returned--the husband--but +she burned the letters and then called a doctor, and he was saved. Not +the doctor, of course. The husband. + +The villain's only hold on her had been the letters, so he went to South +Africa and was gored by an elephant, thus passing out of her life. + +Then and there I knew that I would have to get my letter back from H. +Without it he was powerless. The trouble was that I did not know where +he was staying. Even if he came out of a cabinet, the cabinet would have +to be somewhere, would it not? + +I felt that I would have to meet guile with guile. And to steal one's own +letter is not really stealing. Of course if he was visiting any one and +pretending to be a real person, I had no chance in the world. But if he +was stopping at a hotel I thought I could manage. The man in the book +had had an apartment, with a Japanese servant, who went away and drew +plans of American forts in the kitchen and left the woman alone with the +desk containing the letter. But I daresay that was unusually lucky and +not the sort of thing to look forward to. + +With me, to think is to act. Hannah was out, it being Christmas and her +brother-in-law having a wake, being dead, so I was free to do anything I +wanted to. + +First I called the club and got Carter Brooks on the telephone. + +"Carter," I said, "I--I am writing a letter. Where is--where does H. +stay?" + +"Who?" + +"H.--Mr. Grosvenor." + +"Why, bless your ardent little heart! Writing, are you? It's sublime, +Bab!" + +"Where does he live?" + +"And is it all alone you are, on Christmas Night!" he burbled. (This is a +word from Alice in Wonder Land, and although not in the dictionary, is +quite expressive.) + +"Yes," I replied, bitterly. "I am old enough to be married off without +my consent, but I am not old enough for a real Ball. It makes me sick." + +"I can smuggle him here, if you want to talk to him." + +"Smuggle!" I said, with scorn. "There is no need to smuggle him. The +family is crazy about him. They are flinging me at him." + +"Well, that's nice," he said. "Who'd have thought it! Shall I bring him +to the 'phone?" + +"I don't want to talk to him. I hate him." + +"Look here," he observed, "if you keep that up, he'll begin to believe +you. Don't take these little quarrels too hard, Barbara. He's so happy +to-night in the thought that you----" + +"Does he live in a cabinet, or where?" + +"In a what? I don't get that word." + +"Don't bother. Where shall I send his letter?" + +Well, it seemed he had an apartment at the arcade, and I rang off. It +was after eleven by that time, and by the time I had got into my school +mackintosh and found a heavy veil of mother's and put it on, it was +almost half past. + +The house was quiet, and as Patrick had gone, there was no one around in +the lower hall. I slipped out and closed the door behind me, and +looked for a taxicab, but the veil was so heavy that I hailed our own +limousine, and Smith had drawn up at the curb before I knew him. + +"Where to, lady?" he said. "This is a private car, but I'll take you +anywhere in the city for a dollar." + +A flush of just indignation rose to my cheek, at the knowledge that +Smith was using our car for a taxicab! And just as I was about to speak +to him severely, and threaten to tell father, I remembered, and walked +away. + +"Make it seventy-five cents," he called after me. But I went on. It was +terrible to think that Smith could go on renting our car to all sorts of +people, covered with germs and everything, and that I could never report +it to the family. + +I got a real taxi at last, and got out at the arcade, giving the man a +quarter, although ten cents would have been plenty as a tip. + +I looked at him, and I felt that he could be trusted. + +"This," I said, holding up the money, "is the price of silence." + +But if he was trustworthy he was not subtle, and he said: + +"The what, miss?" + +"If any one asks if you have driven me here, YOU HAVE NOT" I explained, +in an impressive manner. + +He examined the quarter, even striking a match to look at it. Then he +replied: "I have not!" and drove away. + +Concealing my nervousness as best I could, I entered the doomed +building. There was only a hall boy there, asleep in the elevator, and +I looked at the thing with the names on it. "Mr. Grosvenor" was on the +fourth floor. + +I wakened the boy, and he yawned and took me to the fourth floor. My +hands were stiff with nervousness by that time, but the boy was half +asleep, and evidently he took me for some one who belonged there, for +he said "Goodnight" to me, and went on down. There was a square landing +with two doors, and "Grosvenor" was on one. I tried it gently. It was +unlocked. + +"FACILUS DESCENSUS IN AVERNU." + +I am not defending myself. What I did was the result of desperation. +But I cannot even write of my sensations as I stepped through that fatal +portal, without a sinking of the heart. I had, however, had sufficient +foresight to prepare an alibi. In case there was someone present in the +apartment I intended to tell a falsehood, I regret to confess, and to say +that I had got off at the wrong floor. + +There was a sort of hall, with a clock and a table, and a shaded +electric lamp, and beyond that the door was open into a sitting room. + +There was a small light burning there, and the remains of a wood fire in +the fireplace. There was no cabinet however. + +Everything was perfectly quiet, and I went over to the fire and warmed +my hands. My nails were quite blue, but I was strangely calm. I took off +mother's veil, and my mackintosh, so I would be free to work, and I then +looked around the room. There were a number of photographs of rather +smart looking girls, and I curled my lip scornfully. He might have +fooled them but he could not deceive me. And it added to my bitterness +to think that at that moment the villain was dancing--and flirting +probably--while I was driven to actual theft to secure the letter that +placed me in his power. + +When I had stopped shivering I went to his desk. There were a lot of +letters on the top, all addressed to him as Grosvenor. It struck me +suddenly as strange that if he was only visiting, under an assumed name, +in order to see me, that so many people should be writing to him as Mr. +Grosvenor. And it did not look like the room of a man who was visiting, +unless he took a freight car with him on his travels. + +THERE WAS A MYSTERY. All at once I knew it. + +My letter was not on the desk, so I opened the top drawer. It seemed to +be full of bills, and so was the one below it. I had just started on the +third drawer, when a terrible thing happened. + +"Hello!" said some one behind me. + +I turned my head slowly, and my heart stopped. + +THE PORTERES INTO THE PASSAGE HAD OPENED, AND A GENTLEMAN IN HIS EVENING +CLOTHES WAS STANDING THERE. + +"Just sit still, please," he said, in a perfectly cold voice. And he +turned and locked the door into the hall. I was absolutely unable to +speak. I tried once, but my tongue hit the roof of my mouth like the +clapper of a bell. + +"Now," he said, when he had turned around. "I wish you would tell me +some good reason why I should not hand you over to the police." + +"Oh, please don't!" I said. + +"That's eloquent. But not a reason. I'll sit down and give you a little +time. I take it, you did not expect to find me here." + +"I'm in the wrong apartment. That's all," I said. "Maybe you'll think +that's an excuse and not a reason. I can't help it if you do." + +"Well," he said, "that explains some things. It's pretty well known, I +fancy, that I have little worth stealing, except my good name." + +"I was not stealing," I replied in a sulky manner. + +"I beg your pardon," he said. "It IS an ugly word. We will strike it +from the record. Would you mind telling me whose apartment you intended +to--er--investigate? If this is the wrong one, you know." + +"I was looking for a letter." + +"Letters, letters!" he said. "When will you women learn not to write +letters. Although"--he looked at me closely--"you look rather young for +that sort of thing." He sighed. "It's born in you, I daresay," he said. + +Well, for all his patronizing ways, he was not very old himself. + +"Of course," he said, "if you are telling the truth--and it sounds +fishy, I must say--it's hardly a police matter, is it? It's rather one +for diplomacy. But can you prove what you say?" + +"My word should be sufficient," I replied stiffly. "How do I know that +YOU belong here?" + +"Well, you don't, as a matter of fact. Suppose you take my word for +that, and I agree to believe what you say about the wrong apartment, +Even then it's rather unusual. I find a pale and determined looking +young lady going through my desk in a business-like manner. She says she +has come for a letter. Now the question is, is there a letter? If so, +what letter?" + +"It is a love letter," I said. + +"Don't blush over such a confession," he said. "If it is true, be proud +of it. Love is a wonderful thing. Never be ashamed of being in love, my +child." + +"I am not in love," I cried with bitter fury. + +"Ah! Then it is not YOUR letter!" + +"I wrote it." + +"But to simulate a passion that does not exist--that is sacrilege. It +is----" + +"Oh, stop talking," I cried, in a hunted tone. "I can't bear it. If you +are going to arrest me, get it over." + +"I'd rather NOT arrest you, if we can find a way out. You look so young, +so new to crime! Even your excuse for being here is so naive, that +I--won't you tell me why you wrote a love letter, if you are not in +love? And whom you sent it to? That's important, you see, as it bears +on the case. I intend," he said, "to be judicial, unimpassioned, and +quite fair." + +"I wrote a love letter" I explained, feeling rather cheered, "but it was +not intended for any one, Do you see? It was just a love letter." + +"Oh," he said. "Of course. It is often done. And after that?" + +"Well, it had to go somewhere. At least I felt that way about it. So I +made up a name from some malted milk tablets----" + +"Malted milk tablets!" he said, looking bewildered. + +"Just as I was thinking up a name to send it to," I explained, +"Hannah--that's mother's maid, you know--brought in some hot milk and +some malted milk tablets, and I took the name from them." + +"Look here," he said, "I'm unprejudiced and quite calm, but isn't the +'mother's maid' rather piling it on?" + +"Hannah is mother's maid, and she brought in the milk and the tablets, +I should think," I said, growing sarcastic, "that so far it is clear to +the dullest mind." + +"Go on," he said, leaning back and closing his eyes. "You named the +letter for your mother's maid--I mean for the malted milk. Although you +have not yet stated the name you chose; I never heard of any one named +Milk, and as to the other, while I have known some rather thoroughly +malted people--however, let that go." + +"Valentine's tablets," I said. "Of course, you understand," I said, +bending forward, "there was no such person. I made him up. The Harold +was made up too--Harold Valentine." + +"I see. Not clearly, perhaps, but I have a gleam of intelligence." + +"But, after all, there was such a person. That's clear, isn't it? And +now he considers that we are engaged, and--and he insists on marrying +me." + +"That," he said, "is really easy to understand. I don't blame him at all. +He is clearly a person of discernment." + +"Of course," I said bitterly, "you would be on HIS side. Every one is." + +"But the point is this," he went on. "If you made him up out of the +whole cloth, as it were, and there was no such person, how can there +be such a person? I am merely asking to get it all clear in my head. It +sounds so reasonable when you say it, but there seems to be something +left out." + +"I don't know how he can be, but he is," I said, hopelessly. "And he is +exactly like his picture." + +"Well, that's not unusual, you know." + +"It is in this case. Because I bought the picture in a shop, and just +pretended it was him. (He?) And it WAS." + +He got up and paced the floor. + +"It's a very strange case," he said. "Do you mind if I light a +cigarette? It helps to clear my brain. What was the name you gave him?" + +"Harold Valentine. But he is here under another name, because of my +family. They think I am a mere child, you see, and so of course he took +a NOM DE PLUME." + +"A NOM DE PLUME? Oh I see! What is it?" + +"Grosvenor," I said. "The same as yours." + +"There's another Grosvenor in the building, That's where the trouble +came in, I suppose, Now let me get this straight. You wrote a letter, +and somehow or other he got it, and now you want it back. Stripped of +the things that baffle my intelligence, that's it, isn't it?" + +I rose in excitement. + +"Then, if he lives in the building, the letter is probably here. Why +can't you go and get it for me?" + +"Very neat! And let you slip away while I am gone?" + +I saw that he was still uncertain that I was telling him the truth. It +was maddening. And only the Letter itself could convince him. + +"Oh, please try to get it," I cried, almost weeping. "You can lock me in +here, if you are afraid I will run away. And he is out. I know he is. He +is at the club ball." + +"Naturally," he said "the fact that you are asking me to compound a +felony, commit larceny, and be an accessory after the fact does not +trouble you. As I told you before, all I have left is my good name, and +now----!" + +"Please!" I said. + +He stared down at me. + +"Certainly," he said. "Asked in that tone, murder would be one of the +easiest things I do. But I shall lock you in." + +"Very well," I said meekly. And after I had described it--the letter--to +him he went out. + +I had won, but my triumph was but sackcloth and ashes in my mouth. I had +won, but at what a cost! Ah, how I wished that I might live again the +past few days! That I might never have started on my path of deception! +Or that, since my intentions at the start had been so innocent, I had +taken another photograph at the shop, which I had fancied considerably +but had heartlessly rejected because of no mustache. + +He was gone for a long time, and I sat and palpitated. For what if H. +had returned early and found him and called in the police? + +But the latter had not occurred, for at ten minutes after one he came +back, entering by the window from a fire-escape, and much streaked with +dirt. + +"Narrow escape, dear child!" he observed, locking the window and drawing +the shade. "Just as I got it, your--er--gentleman friend returned and +fitted his key in the lock. I am not at all sure," he said, wiping his +hands with his handkerchief, "that he will not regard the open window +as a suspicious circumstance. He may be of a low turn of mind. However, +all's well that ends here in this room. Here it is." + +I took it, and my heart gave a great leap of joy. I was saved. + +"Now," he said, "we'll order a taxicab and get you home. And while it is +coming suppose you tell me the thing over again. It's not as clear to me +as it ought to be, even now." + +So then I told him--about not being out yet, and Sis having flowers sent +her, and her room done over, and never getting to bed until dawn. +And that they treated me like a mere child, which was the reason for +everything, and about the poem, which he considered quite good. And then +about the letter. + +"I get the whole thing a bit clearer now," he said. "Of course, it +is still cloudy in places. The making up somebody to write to is +understandable, under the circumstances. But it is odd to have had the +very person materialize, so to speak. It makes me wonder--well, how +about burning the letter, now we've got it? It would be better, I think. +The way things have been going with you, if we don't destroy it, it is +likely to walk off into somebody else's pocket and cause more trouble." + +So we burned it, and then the telephone rang and said the taxi was +there. + +"I'll get my coat and be ready in a jiffy," he said, "and maybe we can +smuggle you into the house and no one the wiser. We'll try anyhow." + +He went into the other room and I sat by the fire and thought. You +remember that when I was planning Harold Valentine, I had imagined him +with a small, dark mustache, and deep, passionate eyes? Well, this +Mr. Grosvenor had both, or rather, all three. And he had the loveliest +smile, with no dimple. He was, I felt, exactly the sort of man I could +die for. + +It was too tragic that, with all the world to choose from, I had not +taken him instead of H. + +We walked downstairs, so as not to give the elevator boy a chance to +talk, he said. But he was asleep again, and we got to the street and to +the taxicab without being seen. + +Oh, I was very cheerful. When I think of it--but I might have known, all +along. Nothing went right with me that week. + +Just before we got to the house he said: + +"Goodnight and goodbye, little Barbara. I'll never forget you and this +evening. And save me a dance at your coming-out party. I'll be there." + +I held out my hand, and he took it and kissed it. It was all perfectly +thrilling. And then we drew up in front of the house and he helped me +out, and my entire family had just got out of the motor and was lined +up on the pavement staring at us! + +"All right, are you?" he said, as coolly as if they had not been +anywhere in sight. "Well, good night and good luck!" And he got into the +taxicab and drove away, leaving me in the hands of the enemy. + +The next morning I was sent back to school. They never gave me a chance +to explain, for mother went into hysterics, after accusing me of having +men dangling around waiting at every corner. They had to have a doctor, +and things were awful. + +The only person who said anything was Sis. She came to my room that +night when I was in bed, and stood looking down at me. She was very +angry, but there was a sort of awe in her eyes. + +"My hat's off to you, Barbara," she said. "Where in the world do you +pick them all up? Things must have changed at school since I was there." + +"I'm sick to death of the other sex," I replied languidly. "It's no +punishment to send me away. I need a little piece and quiet." And I did. + + +CONCLUSION: + +All this holiday week, while the girls are away, I have been writing +this theme, for literature class. To-day is New Years and I am putting +in the finishing touches. I intend to have it typed in the village and +to send a copy to father, who I think will understand, and another copy, +but with a few lines cut, to Mr. Grosvenor. The nice one. There were +some things he did not quite understand, and this will explain. + +I shall also send a copy to Carter Brooks, who came out handsomely with +an apology this morning in a letter and a ten pound box of candy. + +His letter explains everything. H. is a real person and did not come +out of a cabinet. Carter recognized the photograph as being one of a +Mr. Grosvenor he went to college with, who had gone on the stage and +was playing in a stock company at home. Only they were not playing +Christmas week, as business, he says, is rotten then. When he saw me +writing the letter he felt that it was all a bluff, especially as he had +seen me sending myself the violets at the florists. + +So he got Mr. Grosvenor, the blonde one, to pretend he was Harold +Valentine. Only things slipped up. I quote from Carter's letter: + + +"He's a bully chap, Bab, and he went into it for a lark, roses and poems +and all. But when he saw that you took it rather hard, he felt it wasn't +square. He went to your father to explain and apologized, but your +father seemed to think you needed a lesson. He's a pretty good sport, +your father. And he said to let it go on for a day or two. A little +worry wouldn't hurt you." + + +However, I do not call it being a good sport to see one's daughter +perfectly wretched and do nothing to help. And more than that, to +willfully permit one's child to suffer, and enjoy it. + +But it was father, after all, who got the jolt, I think, when he saw me +get out of the taxicab. + +Therefore I will not explain, for a time. A little worry will not hurt +him either. + +I will not send him his copy for a week. + +Perhaps, after all, I will give him something to worry about eventually. +For I have received a box of roses, with no card, but a pen and ink +drawing of a gentleman in evening clothes crawling onto a fire-escape +through an open window. He has dropped his heart, and it is two floors +below. + +My narrative has now come to a conclusion, and I will close with a few +reflections drawn from my own sad and tragic Experience. I trust the +girls of this school will ponder and reflect. + +Deception is a very sad thing. It starts very easy, and without warning, +and everything seems to be going all right, and no rocks ahead. When +suddenly the breakers loom up, and your frail vessel sinks, with you on +board, and maybe your dear ones, dragged down with you. + + Oh, what a tangled Web we weave, + When first we practice to deceive. + Sir Walter Scott. + + + + +CHAPTER II. THEME: THE CELEBRITY + + +We have been requested to write, during this vacation, a true and +veracious account of a meeting with any celebrity we happened to meet +during the summer. If no celebrity, any interesting character would do, +excepting one's own family. + +But as one's own family is neither celebrated nor interesting, there is +no temptation to write about it. + +As I met Mr. Reginald Beecher this summer, I have chosen him as my +subject. + +Brief history of the Subject: He was born in 1890 at Woodbury, N. J. +Attended public high schools, and in 1910 graduated from Princeton +University. + +Following year produced first Play in New York, called Her Soul. +Followed this by the Soul Mate, and this by The Divorce. + +Description of Subject. Mr. Beecher is tall and slender, and wears a +very small dark Mustache. Although but twenty-six years of age, his hair +on close inspection reveals here and there a silver thread. His teeth +are good, and his eyes amber, with small flecks of brown in them. He has +been vaccinated twice. + +It has always been one of my chief ambitions to meet a celebrity. On one +or two occasions we have had them at school, but they never sit at the +Junior's table. Also, they are seldom connected with either the Drama +or The Movies (a slang term but apparently taking a place in our +literature). + +It was my intention, on being given this subject for my midsummer theme, +to seek out Mrs. Bainbridge, a lady author who has a cottage across the +bay from ours, and to ask the privilege of sitting at her feet for a few +hours, basking in the sunshine of her presence, and learning from her +own lips her favorite Flower, her favorite Poem and the favorite child +of her brain. + + Of all those arts in which the wise excel, + Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well. + Duke of Buckingham + +I had meant to write my theme on her, but I learned in time that she +was forty years of age. Her work is therefore done. She has passed her +active years, and I consider that it is not the past of American Letters +which is at stake, but the future. Besides, I was more interested in the +drama than in literature. + +Possibly it is owing to the fact that the girls think I resemble Julia +Marlowe, that from my earliest years my mind has been turned toward the +stage. I am very determined and fixed in my ways, and with me to decide +to do a thing is to decide to do it. I am not of a romantic nature, +however, and as I learned of the dangers of the theater, I drew back. +Even a strong nature, such as mine is, on occasions, can be influenced. +I therefore decided to change my plans, and to write plays instead of +acting in them. + +At first I meant to write comedies, but as I realized the gravity +of life, and its bitterness and disappointments, I turned naturally to +tragedy. Surely, as dear Shakespeare says: + + The world is a stage + Where every man must play a part, + And mine a sad one. + +This explains my sincere interest in Mr. Beecher. His works were all +realistic and sad. I remember that I saw the first one three years ago, +when a mere child, and became violently ill from crying and had to be +taken home. + +The school will recall that last year I wrote a play, patterned on The +Divorce, and that only a certain narrowness of view on the part of the +faculty prevented it being the class play. If I may be permitted to +express an opinion, we of the class of 1917 are not children, and should +not be treated as such. + +Encouraged by the applause of my class-mates, and feeling that I was of +a more serious turn of mind than most of them, who seem to think of +pleasure only, I decided to write a play during the summer. I would +thus be improving my vacation hours, and, I considered, keeping out of +mischief. It was pure idleness which had caused my trouble during the +last Christmas holidays. How true it is that the devil finds work for +idle hands! + +With a play and this theme I believed that the devil would give me up as +a total loss, and go elsewhere. + +How little we can read the future! + +I now proceed to an account of my meeting and acquaintance with Mr. +Beecher. It is my intention to conceal nothing. I can only comfort +myself with the thought that my motives were innocent, and that I was +obeying orders and securing material for a theme. I consider that the +attitude of my family is wrong and cruel, and that my sister Leila, +being only 20 months older, although out in society, has no need to +write me the sort of letters she has been writing. Twenty months is +twenty months, and not two years, although she seems to think it is. + +I returned home full of happy plans for my vacation. When I look back it +seems strange that the gay and innocent young girl of the train can have +been! So much that is tragic has since happened. If I had not had a +cinder in my eye things would have been different. But why repine? Fate +frequently hangs thus on a single hair--an eye-lash, as one may say. + +Father met me at the train. I had got the aforementioned cinder in my +eye, and a very nice young man had taken it out for me. I still cannot +see what harm there was in our chatting together after that, especially as +we said nothing to object to. But father looked very disagreeable about +it, and the young man went away in a hurry. But it started us off wrong, +although I got him--father--to promise not to tell mother. + +"I do wish you would be more careful, Bab," he said with a sort of sigh. + +"Careful!" I said. "Then it's not doing things, but being found out, +that matters!" + +"Careful in your conduct, Bab." + +"He was a beautiful young man, father," I observed, slipping my arm +through his. + +"Barbara, Barbara! Your poor mother----" + +"Now look here, father" I said. "If it was mother who was interested in +him it might be troublesome. But it is only me. And I warn you, here and +now, that I expect to be thrilled at the sight of a nice young man right +along. It goes up my back and out the roots of my hair." + +Well, my father is a real person, so he told me to talk sense, and gave +me twenty dollars, and agreed to say nothing about the young man to +mother, if I would root for Canada against the Adirondacks for the +summer, because of the fishing. + +Mother was waiting in the hall for me, but she held me off with both +hands. + +"Not until you have bathed and changed your clothing, Barbara," she +said. "I have never had it." + +She meant the whooping cough. The school will recall the epidemic which +ravaged us last June, and changed us from a peaceful institution to what +sounded like a dog show. + +Well, I got the same old room, not much fixed up, but they had put up +different curtains anyhow, thank goodness. I had been hinting all spring +for new furniture, but my family does not take a hint unless it is +chloroformed first, and I found the same old stuff there. + +They believe in waiting until a girl makes her debut before giving her +anything but the necessities of life. + +Sis was off for a week-end, but Hannah was there, and I kissed her. Not +that I'm so fond of her, but I had to kiss somebody. + +"Well, Miss Barbara!" she said. "How you've grown!" + +That made me rather sore, because I am not a child any longer, but they +all talk to me as if I were but six years old, and small for my age. + +"I've stopped growing, Hannah," I said, with dignity. "At least, almost. +But I see I still draw the nursery." + +Hannah was opening my suitcase, and she looked up and said: "I tried to +get you the blue room, Miss Bab. But Miss Leila said she needed it for +house parties." + +"Never mind," I said. "I don't care anything about furniture. I have +other things to think about, Hannah; I want the school room desk up +here." + +"Desk!" she said, with her jaw drooping. + +"I am writing now," I said. "I need a lot of ink, and paper, and a good +lamp. Let them keep the blue room, Hannah, for their selfish purposes. I +shall be happy in my work. I need nothing more." + +"Writing!" said Hannah. "Is it a book you're writing?" + +"A play." + +"Listen to the child! A play!" + +I sat on the edge of the bed. + +"Listen, Hannah," I said. "It is not what is outside of us that matters. +It is what is inside. It is what we are, not what we eat, or look like, +or wear. I have given up everything, Hannah, to my career." + +"You're young yet," said Hannah. "You used to be fond enough of the +boys." + +Hannah has been with us for years, so she gets rather talky at times, +and has to be sat upon. + +"I care nothing whatever for the Other Sex," I replied haughtily. + +She was opening my suitcase at the time, and I was surveying the chamber +which was to be the seen of my Literary Life, at least for some time. + +"Now and then," I said to Hannah, "I shall read you parts of it. Only +you mustn't run and tell mother." + +"Why not?" said she, peering into the Suitcase. + +"Because I intend to deal with Life," I said. "I shall deal with real +Things, and not the way we think them. I am young, but I have thought a +great deal. I shall mince nothing." + +"Look here, Miss Barbara," Hannah said, all at once, "what are you doing +with this whiskey flask? And these socks? And--you come right here, and +tell me where you got the things in this suitcase." I stocked over to +the bed, and my blood froze in my veins. IT WAS NOT MINE. + +Words cannot fully express how I felt. While fully convinced that there +had been a mistake, I knew not when or how. Hannah was staring at me +with cold and accusing eyes. + +"You're a very young lady, Miss Barbara," she said, with her eyes full +of Suspicion, "to be carrying a flask about with you." I was as puzzled +as she was, but I remained calm and to all appearances Spartan. + +"I am young in years," I remarked. "But I have seen Life, Hannah." + +Now I meant nothing by this at the time. But it was getting on my nerves +to be put in the infant class all the time. The Christmas before they had +done it, and I had had my revenge. Although it had hurt me more than it +hurt them, and if I gave them a fright I gave myself a worse one. As I +said at that time: + + Oh, what a tangled web we weave, + When first we practice to deceive. + Sir Walter Scott. + +Hannah gave me a horrified glare, and dipped into the suitcase again. +She brought up a tin box of cigarettes, and I thought she was going to +have delirium tremens at once. + +Well, at first I thought the girls at school had played a trick on me, +and a low down mean trick at that. There are always those who think it +is funny to do that sort of thing, but they are the first to squeal when +anything is done to them. Once I put a small garter snake in a girl's +muff, and it went up her sleeve, which is nothing to some of the things +she had done to me. And you would have thought the school was on fire. + +Anyhow, I said to myself that some Smarty was trying to get me into +trouble, and Hannah would run to the family, and they'd never believe +me. All at once I saw all my cherished plans for the summer gone, and +me in the country somewhere with Mademoiselle, and walking through the +pasture with a botany in one hand and a folding cup in the other, in +case we found a spring a cow had not stepped in. Mademoiselle was +once my Governess, but has retired to private life, except in cases of +emergency. + +I am naturally very quick in mind. The Archibalds are all like that, and +when once we decide on a course we stick to it through thick and +thin. But we do not lie. It is ridiculous for Hannah to say I said the +cigarettes were mine. All I said was: + +"I suppose you are going to tell the family. You'd better run, or +you'll burst." + +"Oh, Miss Barbara, Miss Barbara!" she said. "And you so young to be so +wild!" + +This was unjust, and I am one to resent injustice. I had returned home +with my mind fixed on serious things, and now I was being told I was +wild. + +"If I tell your mother she'll have a fit," Hannah said, evidently drawn +hither and thither by emotion. "Now see here, Miss Bab, you've just +come home, and there was trouble at your last vacation that I'm like to +remember to my dying day. You tell me how those things got there, like +a good girl, and I'll say nothing about them." + +I am naturally sweet in disposition, but to call me a good girl and +remind me of last Christmas holidays was too much. My natural firmness came +to the front. + +"Certainly NOT," I said. + +"You needn't stick your lip out at me, Miss Bab, that was only giving +you a chance, and forgetting my duty to help you, not to mention +probably losing my place when the family finds out." + +"Finds out what?" + +"What you've been up to, the stage, and writing plays, and now liquor +and tobacco!" + +Now I may be at fault in the narrative that follows. But I ask the school +if this was fair treatment. I had returned to my home full of high +ideals, only to see them crushed beneath the heal of domestic tyranny. + + Necessity is the argument of tyrants; + it is the creed of slaves. + William Pitt. + +How true are these immortal words. + +It was with a firm countenance but a sinking heart that I saw Hannah +leave the room. I had come home inspired with lofty ambition, and it +had ended thus. Heart-broken, I wandered to the bedside, and let my eyes +fall on the suitcase, the container of all my woe. + +Well, I was surprised, all right. It was not and never had been mine. +Instead of my blue serge sailor suit and my 'robe de nuit' and kimono +etc., it contained a checked gentleman's suit, a mussed shirt and a cap. +At first I was merely astonished. Then a sense of loss overpowered me. +I suffered. I was prostrated with grief. Not that I cared a rap for +the clothes I'd lost, being most of them to small and patched here and +there. But I had lost the plot of my play. My career was gone. + +I was undone. + +It may be asked what has this recital to do with the account of meeting +a celebrity. I reply that it has a great deal to do with it. A bare +recital of a meeting may be news, but it is not art. + +A theme consists of Introduction, Body and Conclusion. + +This is still the Introduction. + +When I was at last revived enough to think I knew what had happened. The +young man who took the cinder out of my eye had come to sit beside +me, which I consider was merely kindness on his part and nothing like +flirting, and he had brought his suitcase over, and they had got mixed +up. But I knew the family would call it flirting, and not listen to a +word I said. + +A madness seized me. Now that everything is over, I realize that it was +madness. But "there is a divinity that shapes our ends etc." It was to +be. It was Karma, or Kismet, or whatever the word is. It was written in +the Book of Fate that I was to go ahead, and wreck my life, and generally +ruin everything. + +I locked the door behind Hannah, and stood with tragic feet, "where the +brook and river meet." What was I to do? How hide this evidence of +my (presumed) duplicity? I was innocent, but I looked guilty. This, as +everyone knows, is worse than guilt. + +I unpacked the suitcase as fast as I could, therefore, and being just +about distracted, I bundled the things up and put them all together in +the toy closet, where all Sis's dolls and mine are, mine being mostly +pretty badly gone, as I was always hard on dolls. + +How far removed were those innocent years when I played with dolls! + +Well, I knew Hannah pretty well, and therefore was not surprised when, +having hidden the trousers under a doll buggy, I heard mother's voice at +the door. + +"Let me in, Barbara," she said. + +I closed the closet door, and said: "What is it, mother?" + +"Let me in." + +So I let her in, and pretended I expected her to kiss me, which she +had not yet, on account of the whooping cough. But she seemed to have +forgotten that. Also the kiss. + +"Barbara," she said, in the meanest voice, "how long have you been +smoking?" + +Now I must pause to explain this. Had mother approached me in a sweet +and maternal manner, I would have been softened, and would have told the +whole story. But she did not. She was, as you might say, steaming with +rage. And seeing that I was misunderstood, I hardened. I can be as hard +as adamant when necessary. + +"What do you mean, mother?" + +"Don't answer one question with another." + +"How can I answer when I don't understand you?" + +She simply twitched with fury. + +"You--a mere Child!" she raved. "And I can hardly bring myself to +mention it--the idea of your owning a flask, and bringing it into this +house--it is--it is----" + +Well, I was growing cold and more haughty every moment, so I said: "I +don't see why the mere mention of a flask upsets you so. It isn't +because you aren't used to one, especially when traveling. And since I +was a mere baby I have been accustomed to intoxicants." + +"Barbara!" she interjected, in the most dreadful tone. + +"I mean, in the family," I said. "I have seen wine on our table ever +since I can remember. I knew to put salt on a claret stain before I +could talk." + +Well, you know how it is to see an enemy on the run, and although I +regret to refer to my dear mother as an enemy, still at that moment she +was such and no less. And she was beating it. It was the reference to +my youth that had aroused me, and I was like a wounded lion. Besides, I +knew well enough that if they refused to see that I was practically grown +up, if not entirely, I would get a lot of Sis's clothes, fixed up with +new ribbons. Faded old things! I'd had them for years. + +Better to be considered a bad woman than an unformed child. + +"However, mother," I finished, "if it is any comfort to you, I did not +buy that flask. And I am not a confirmed alcoholic. By no means." + +"This settles it," she said, in a melancholy tone. "When I think of the +comfort Leila has been to me, and the anxiety you have caused, I wonder +where you get your--your DEVILTRY from. I am positively faint." + +I was alarmed, for she did look queer, with her face all white around +the rouge. So I reached for the flask. + +"I'll give you a swig of this," I said. "It will pull you around in no +time." + +But she held me off fiercely. + +"Never!" she said. "Never again. I shall empty the wine cellar. There +will be nothing to drink in this house from now on. I do not know what +we are coming to." + +She walked into the bathroom, and I heard her emptying the flask down +the drain pipe. It was a very handsome flask, silver with gold stripes, +and all at once I knew the young man would want it back. So I said: + +"Mother, please leave the flask here anyhow." + +"Certainly not." + +"It's not mine, mother." + +"Whose is it?" + +"It--a friend of mine loaned it to me." + +"Who?" + +"I can't tell you." + +"You can't TELL me! Barbara, I am utterly bewildered. I sent you away a +simple child, and you return to me--what?" + +Well, we had about an hour's fight over it, and we ended in a +compromise. I gave up the flask, and promised not to smoke and so forth, +and I was to have some new dresses and a silk sweater, and to be allowed +to stay up until ten o'clock, and to have a desk in my room for my work. + +"Work!" mother said. "Career! What next? Why can't you be like Leila, +and settle down to having a good time?" + +"Leila and I are different," I said loftily, for I resented her tone. +"Leila is a child of the moment. Life for her is one grand, sweet Song. +For me it is a serious matter. 'Life is real, life is earnest, and the +grave is not its goal,'" I quoted in impassioned tones. + +(Because that is the way I feel. How can the grave be its goal? THERE +MUST BE SOMETHING BEYOND. I have thought it all out, and I believe in a +world beyond, but not in a hell. Hell, I believe, is the state of mind +one gets into in this world as a result of one's wicked acts or one's +wicked thoughts, and is in one's self.) + +As I have said, the other side of the compromise was that I was not to +carry flasks with me, or drink any punch at parties if it had a stick +in it, and you can generally find out by the taste. For if it is what +Carter Brooks calls "loaded" it stings your tongue. Or if it tastes like +cider it's probably champagne. And I was not to smoke any cigarettes. + +Mother was holding out on the sweater at that time, saying that Sis had +a perfectly good one from Miami, and why not wear that? So I put up a +strong protest about the cigarettes, although I have never smoked but +once as I think the school knows, and that only half through, owing to +getting dizzy. I said that Sis smoked now and then, because she thought +it looked smart; but that, if I was to have a career, I felt that the +soothing influence of tobacco would help a lot. + +So I got the new sweater, and everything looked smooth again, and mother +kissed me on the way out, and said she had not meant to be harsh, but +that my great uncle Putnam had been a notorious drunkard, and I looked +like him, although of a more refined type. + +There was a dreadful row that night, however, when father came home. We +were all dressed for dinner, and waiting in the drawing room, and Leila +was complaining about me, as usual. + +"She looks older than I do now, mother," she said. "If she goes to the +seashore with us I'll have her always tagging at my heals. I don't see +why I can't have my first summer in peace." Oh, yes, we were going to +the shore, after all. Sis wanted it, and everybody does what she wants, +regardless of what they prefer, even fishing. + +"First summer!" I exclaimed. "One would think you were a teething baby!" + +"I was speaking to mother, Barbara. Everyone knows that a debutante +only has one year nowadays, and if she doesn't go off in that year she's +swept away by the flood of new girls the next fall. We might as well +be frank. And while Barbara's not a beauty, as soon as the bones in her +neck get a little flesh on them she won't be hopeless, and she has a +flippant manner that men like." + +"I intend to keep Barbara under my eyes this summer," mother said +firmly. "After last Christmas's happenings, and our discovery today, I +shall keep her with me. She need not, however, interfere with you, +Leila. Her hours are mostly different, and I will see that her friends +are the younger boys." + +I said nothing, but I knew perfectly well she had in mind Eddie Perkins +and Willie Graham, and a lot of other little kids that hang around the +fruit punch at parties, and throw the peas from the croquettes at each +other when the footmen are not near, and pretend they are allowed to +smoke, but have sworn off for the summer. + +I was naturally indignant at Sis's words, which were not filial, to my +mind, but I replied as sweetly as possible: + +"I shall not be in your way, Leila. I ask nothing but food and shelter, +and that perhaps not for long." + +"Why? Do you intend to die?" she demanded. + +"I intend to work," I said. "It's more interesting than dieing, and will +be a novelty in this house." + +Father came in just then, and he said: + +"I'll not wait to dress, Clara. Hello, children. I'll just change my +collar while you ring for the cocktails." + +Mother got up and faced him with majesty. + +"We are not going to have, any" she said. + +"Any what?" said father from the doorway. + +"I have had some fruit juice prepared with a dash of bitters. It is +quite nice. And I'll ask you, James, not to explode before the servants. +I will explain later." + +Father has a very nice disposition but I could see that mother's manner +got on his nerves, as it got on mine. Anyhow there was a terrific fuss, +with Sis playing the piano so that the servants would not hear, and in +the end father had a cocktail. Mother waited until he had had it, and +was quieter, and then she told him about me, and my having a flask in +my suitcase. Of course I could have explained, but if they persisted in +misunderstanding me, why not let them do so, and be miserable? + +"It's a very strange thing, Bab," he said, looking at me, "that +everything in this house is quiet until you come home, and then we get +as lively as kittens in a frying pan. We'll have to marry you off pretty +soon, to save our piece of mind." + +"James!" said my mother. "Remember last winter, please." + +There was no claret or anything with dinner, and father ordered mineral +water, and criticized the food, and fussed about Sis's dressmaker's +bill. And the second man gave notice immediately after we left the +dining room. When mother reported that, as we were having coffee in the +drawing room, father said: + +"Humph! Well, what can you expect? Those fellows have been getting the +best half of a bottle of claret every night since they've been here, and +now it's cut off. Damned if I wouldn't like to leave myself." + +From that time on I knew that I was watched. It made little or no +difference to me. I had my work, and it filled my life. There were times +when my soul was so filled with joy that I could hardly bare it. I had +one act done in two days. I wrote out the love scenes in full, because I +wanted to be sure of what they would say to each other. How I thrilled +as each marvelous burst of fantasy flowed from my pen! But the dialogue +of less interesting parts I left for the actors to fill in themselves. +I consider this the best way, as it gives them a chance to be original, +and not to have to say the same thing over and over. + +Jane Raleigh came over to see me the day after I came home, and I read +her some of the love scenes. She positively wept with excitement. + +"Bab," she said, "if any man, no matter who, ever said those things to +me, I'd go straight into his arms. I couldn't help it. Whose going to +act in it?" + +"I think I'll have Robert Edeson, or Richard Mansfield." + +"Mansfield's dead," said Jane. + +"Honestly?" + +"Honest he is. Why don't you get some of these moving picture actors? +They never have a chance in the Movies, only acting and not talking." + +Well, that sounded logical. And then I read her the place where the +cruel first husband comes back and finds her married again and happy, +and takes the children out to drown them, only he can't because they can +swim, and they pull him in instead. The curtain goes down on nothing but +a few bubbles rising to mark his watery grave. + +Jane was crying. + +"It is too touching for words, Bab!" she said. "It has broken my heart. +I can just close my eyes and see the theater dark, and the stage almost +dark, and just those bubbles coming up and breaking. Would you have to +have a tank?" + +"I daresay," I replied dreamily. "Let the other people worry about that. +I can only give them the material, and hope that they have intelligence +enough to grasp it." + +I think Sis must have told Carter Brooks something about the trouble I +was in, for he brought me a box of candy one afternoon, and winked at me +when mother was not looking. + +"Don't open it here," he whispered. + +So I was forced to control my impatience, though passionately fond of +candy. And when I got to my room later, the box was full of cigarettes. +I could have screamed. It just gave me one more thing to hide, as if a +man's suit and shirt and so on was not sufficient. + +But Carter paid more attention to me than he ever had before, and at +a tea dance somebody had at the country club he took me to one side and +gave me a good talking to. + +"You're being rather a bad child, aren't you?" he said. + +"Certainly not." + +"Well, not bad, but--er--naughty. Now see here, Bab, I'm fond of you, +and you're growing into a mighty pretty girl. But your whole social +life is at stake. For heaven's sake, at least until you're married, cut +out the cigarettes and booze." + +That cut me to the heart, but what could I say? + +Well, July came, and we had rented a house at Little Hampton and +everywhere one went one fell over an open trunk or a barrel containing +silver or linen. + +Mother went around with her lips moving as if in prayer, but she was +really repeating lists, such as sowing basket, table candles, headache +tablets, black silk stockings and tennis rackets. + +Sis got some lovely clothes, mostly imported, but they had a woman come +in and sew for me. Hannah and she used to interrupt my most precious +moments at my desk by running a tape measure around me, or pinning a +paper pattern to me. The sewing woman always had her mouth full of pins, +and once, owing to my remarking that I wished I had been illegitimate, +so I could go away and live my own life, she swallowed one. It caused a +grate deal of excitement, with Hannah blaming me and giving her vinegar +to swallow to soften the pin. Well, it turned out all right, for she +kept on living, but she pretended to have sharp pains all over her here +and there, and if the pin had been as lively as a tadpole and wriggled +from spot to spot, it could not have hurt in so many places. + +Of course they blamed me, and I shut myself up more and more in my +sanctuary. There I lived with the creatures of my dreams, and forgot for +a while that I was only a Sub-Deb, and that Leila's last year's tennis +clothes were being fixed over for me. + +But how true what dear Shakespeare says:= + +`````dreams, + +```Which are the children of an idle brain. + +```Begot of nothing but vain fantasy.= + +I loved my dreams, but alas, they were not enough. After a tortured +hour or two at my desk, living in myself the agonies of my characters, +suffering the pangs of the wife with two husbands and both living, +struggling in the water with the children, fruit of the first union, +dying with number two and blowing my last bubbles heavenward--after all +these emotions, I was done out. + +Jane came in one day and found me prostrate on my couch, with a light of +suffering in my eyes. + +"Dearest!" cried Jane, and gliding to my side, fell on her knees. + +"Jane!" + +"What is it? You are ill?" + +I could hardly more than whisper. In a low tone I said: + +"He is dead." + +"Dearest!" + +"Drowned!" + +At first she thought I meant a member of my family. But when she +understood she looked serious. + +"You are too intense, Bab," she said solemnly. "You suffer too much. You +are wearing yourself out." + +"There is no other way," I replied in broken tones. + +Jane went to the Mirror and looked at herself. Then she turned to me. + +"Others don't do it." + +"I must work out my own Salvation, Jane," I observed firmly. But she had +roused me from my apathy, and I went into Sis's room, returning with +a box of candy some one had sent her. "I must feel, Jane, or I cannot +write." + +"Pooh! Loads of writers get fat on it. Why don't you try comedy? It pays +well." + +"Oh--MONEY!" I said, in a disgusted tone. + +"Your FORTE, of course, is love," she said. "Probably that's because +you've had so much experience." Owing to certain reasons it is generally +supposed that I have experienced the gentle passion. But not so, alas! +"Bab," Jane said, suddenly, "I have been your friend for a long time. I +have never betrayed you. You can trust me with your life. Why don't you +tell me?" + +"Tell you what?" + +"Something has happened. I see it in your eyes. No girl who is happy +and has not a tragic story stays at home shut up at a messy desk when +everyone is out at the club playing tennis. Don't talk to me about a +career. A girl's career is a man and nothing else. And especially after +last winter, Bab. Is--is it the same one?" + +Here I made my fatal error. I should have said at once that there was +no one, just as there had been no one last winter. But she looked so +intense, sitting there, and after all, why should I not have an amorous +experience? I am not ugly, and can dance well, although inclined to lead +because of dancing with other girls all winter at school. So I lay back +on my pillow and stared at the ceiling. + +"No. It is not the same man." + +"What is he like? Bab, I'm so excited I can't sit still." + +"It--it hurts to talk about him," I observed faintly. + +Now I intended to let it go at that, and should have, had not Jane kept +on asking questions. Because I had had a good lesson the winter before, +and did not intend to deceive again. And this I will say--I really told +Jane Raleigh nothing. She jumped to her own conclusions. And as for her +people saying she cannot chum with me any more, I will only say this: If +Jane Raleigh smokes she did not learn it from me. + +Well, I had gone as far as I meant to. I was not really in love with +anyone, although I liked Carter Brooks, and would possibly have loved him +with all the depth of my nature if Sis had not kept an eye on me most of +the time. However---- + +Jane seemed to be expecting something, and I tried to think of some +way to satisfy her and not make any trouble. And then I thought of the +suitcase. So I locked the door and made her promise not to tell, and got +the whole thing out of the toy closet. + +"Wha--what is it?" asked Jane. + +I said nothing, but opened it all up. The flask was gone, but the +rest was there, and Carter's box too. Jane leaned down and lifted the +trousers and poked around somewhat. Then she straitened and said: + +"You have run away and got married, Bab." + +"Jane!" + +She looked at me piercingly. + +"Don't lie to me," she said accusingly. "Or else what are you doing with +a man's whole outfit, including his dirty collar? Bab, I just can't bare +it." + +Well, I saw that I had gone to far, and was about to tell Jane the truth +when I heard the sewing woman in the hall. I had all I could do to get +the things put away, and with Jane looking like death I had to stand +there and be fitted for one of Sis's chiffon frocks, with the low neck +filled in with net. + +"You must remember, Miss Bab," said the human pin cushion, "that you are +still a very young girl, and not out yet." + +Jane got up off the bed suddenly. + +"I--I guess I'll go, Bab," she said. "I don't feel very well." + +As she went out she stopped in the doorway and crossed her heart, +meaning that she would die before she would tell anything. But I was +not comfortable. It is not a pleasant thought that your best friend +considers you married and gone beyond recall, when in truth you are not, +or even thinking about it, except in idle moments. + +The seen now changes. Life is nothing but such changes. No sooner do +we alight on one branch, and begin to sip the honey from it, but we +are taken up and carried elsewhere, perhaps to the mountains or to the +sea-shore, and there left to make new friends and find new methods of +enjoyment. + +The flight--or journey--was in itself an anxious time. For on my +otherwise clear conscience rested the weight of that strange suitcase. +Fortunately Hannah was so busy that I was left to pack my belongings +myself, and thus for a time my guilty secret was safe. I put my things in +on top of the masculine articles, not daring to leave any of them in the +closet, owing to house-cleaning, which is always done before our return +in the fall. + +On the train I had a very unpleasant experience, due to Sis opening my +suitcase to look for a magazine, and drawing out a soiled gentleman's +collar. She gave me a very piercing glance, but said nothing and at the +next opportunity I threw it out of a window, concealed in a newspaper. + +We now approach the catastrophe. My book on play writing divides plays +into Introduction, Development, Crisis, Denouement and Catastrophe. And +so one may divide life. In my case the cinder proved the introduction, +as there was none other. I consider that the suitcase was the +development, my showing it to Jane Raleigh was the crisis, and the +denouement or catastrophe occurred later on. + +Let us then proceed to the catastrophe. + +Jane Raleigh came to see me off at the train. Her family was coming the +next day. And instead of flowers, she put a small bundle into my hands. +"Keep it hidden, Bab," she said, "and tear up the card." + +I looked when I got a chance, and she had crocheted me a wash cloth, +with a pink edge. "For your linen chest," the card said, "and I'm doing +a bath towel to match." + +I tore up the card, but I put the wash cloth with the other things I +was trying to hide, because it is bad luck to throw a gift away. But I +hoped, as I seemed to be getting more things to conceal all the time, +that she would make me a small bath towel, and not the sort as big as a +bed spread. + +Father went with us to get us settled, and we had a long talk while +mother and Sis made out lists for dinners and so forth. + +"Look here, Bab," he said, "something's wrong with you. I seem to have +lost my only boy, and have got instead a sort of tear-y young person I +don't recognize." + +"I'm growing up, father" I said. I did not mean to rebuke him, but ye +gods! Was I the only one to see that I was no longer a child? + +"Sometimes I think you are not very happy with us." + +"Happy?" I pondered. "Well, after all, what is happiness?" + +He took a spell of coughing then, and when it was over he put his arms +around me and was quite affectionate. + +"What a queer little rat it is!" he said. + +I only repeat this to show how even my father, with all his affection and +good qualities, did not understand and never would understand. My +heart was full of a longing to be understood. I wanted to tell him my +yearnings for better things, my aspirations to make my life a great and +glorious thing. AND HE DID NOT UNDERSTAND. + +He gave me five dollars instead. Think of the tragedy of it! + +As we went along, and he pulled my ear and finally went asleep with a +hand on my shoulder, the bareness of my life came to me. I shook with +sobs. And outside somewhere Sis and mother made dinner lists. Then and +there I made up my mind to work hard and achieve, to become great and +powerful, to write things that would ring the hearts of men--and women, +to, of course--and to come back to them some day, famous and beautiful, +and when they sued for my love, to be kind and haughty, but cold. I felt +that I would always be cold, although gracious. + +I decided then to be a writer of plays first, and then later on to act +in them. I would thus be able to say what came into my head, as it was +my own play. Also to arrange the scenes so as to wear a variety of gowns, +including evening things. I spent the rest of the afternoon manicuring +my nails in our state room. + +Well, we got there at last. It was a large house, but everything was +to thin about it. The school will understand this, the same being the +condition of the new freshman dormitory. The walls were to thin, and so +were the floors. The doors shivered in the wind, and palpitated if you +slammed them. Also you could hear every sound everywhere. + +I looked around me in despair. Where, oh where, was I to find my +cherished solitude? Where? + +On account of Hannah hating a new place, and considering the house an +insult to the servants, especially only one bathroom for the lot of them, +she let me unpack alone, and so far I was safe. But where was I to work? +Fate settled that for me however. + + There is no armor against fate; + Death lays his icy hand on Kings. + + J. Shirley; Dirge. + +Previously, however, mother and I had had a talk. She sailed into my +room one evening, dressed for dinner, and found me in my ROBE DE NUIT, +curled up in the window seat admiring the view of the ocean. + +"Well!" she said. "Is this the way you intend going to dinner?" + +"I do not care for any dinner," I replied. Then, seeing she did not +understand, I said coldly. "How can I care for food, mother, when the +sea looks like a dying opal?" + +"Dying pussycat!" mother said, in a very nasty way. "I don't know what +has come over you, Barbara. You used to be a normal child, and there was +some accounting for what you were going to do. But now! Take off that +nightgown, and I'll have Tanney hold off dinner for half an hour." + +Tanney was the butler who had taken Patrick's place. + +"If you insist," I said coldly. "But I shall not eat." + +"Why not?" + +"You wouldn't understand, mother." + +"Oh, I wouldn't? Well, suppose I try," she said, and sat down. "I am +not very intelligent, but if you put it clearly I may grasp it. Perhaps +you'd better speak slowly, also." + +So, sitting there in my room, while the sea throbbed in tireless beats +against the shore, while the light faded and the stars issued, one by +one, like a rash on the face of the sky, I told mother of my dreams. I +intended, I said, to write life as it really is, and not as supposed to +be. + +"It may in places be, ugly" I said, "but truth is my banner. The truth +is never ugly, because it is real. It is, for instance, not ugly if a +man is in love with the wife of another, if it is real love, and not the +passing fancy of a moment." + +Mother opened her mouth, but did not say anything. + +"There was a time," I said, "when I longed for things that now have no +value whatever to me. I cared for clothes and even for the attentions of +the other sex. But that has passed away, mother. I have now no thought +but for my career." + +I watched her face, and soon the dreadful understanding came to me. +She, too, did not understand. My literary aspirations were as nothing to +her! + +Oh, the bitterness of that moment. My mother, who had cared for me as a +child, and obeyed my slightest wish, no longer understood me. And saddest +of all, there was no way out. None. Once, in my youth, I had believed +that I was not the child of my parents at all, but an adopted +one--perhaps of rank and kept out of my inheritance by those who had +selfish motives. But now I knew that I had no rank or inheritance, save +what I should carve out for myself. There was no way out. None. + +Mother rose slowly, staring at me with perfectly fixed and glassy eyes. + +"I am absolutely sure," she said, "that you are on the edge of something. +It may be typhoid, or it may be an elopement. But one thing is certain. +You are not normal." + +With this she left me to my thoughts. But she did not neglect me. Sis +came up after dinner, and I saw mother's fine hand in that. Although not +hungry in the usual sense of the word, I had begun to grow rather empty, +and was nibbling out of a box of chocolates when Sis came. + +She got very little out of me. To one with softness and tenderness I +would have told all, but Sis is not that sort. And at last she showed +her claws. + +"Don't fool yourself for a minute," she said. "This literary pose has +not fooled anybody. Either you're doing it to appear interesting, or +you've done something you're scared about. Which is it?" + +I refused to reply. + +"Because if it's the first, and you're trying to look literary, you are +going about it wrong," she said. "Real Literary People don't go round +mooning and talking about the opal sea." + +I saw mother had been talking, and I drew myself up. + +"They look and act like other people," said Leila, going to the bureau +and spilling powder all over the place. "Look at Beecher." + +"Beecher!" I cried, with a thrill that started inside my elbows. (I +have read this to one or two of the girls, and they say there is no such +thrill. But not all people act alike under the influence of emotion, and +mine is in my arms, as stated.) + +"The playwright," Sis said. "He's staying next door. And if he does any +languishing it is not by himself." + +There may be some who have for a long time had an ideal, but without +hoping ever to meet him, and then suddenly learning that he is nearby, +with indeed but a wall or two between, can be calm and cool. But I am +not like that. Although long suppression has taught me to dissemble at +times, where my heart is concerned I am powerless. + +For it was at last my heart that was touched. I, who had scorned the +other sex and felt that I was born cold and always would be cold, that +day I discovered the truth. Reginald Beecher was my ideal. I had never +spoken to him, nor indeed seen him, except for his pictures. But the +very mention of his name brought a lump to my throat. + +Feeling better immediately, I got Sis out of the room and coaxed Hannah +to bring me some dinner. While she was sneaking it out of the pantry I +was dressing, and soon, as a new being, I was out on the stone bench at +the foot of the lawn, gazing with rapt eyes at the sea. + +But fate was against me. Eddie Perkins saw me there and came over. He +had but recently been put in long trousers, and those not his best +ones but only white flannels. He was never sure of his garters, and was +always looking to see if his socks were coming down. Well, he came over +just as I was sure I saw Reginald Beecher next door on the veranda, and +made himself a nuisance right away, trying all sorts of kid tricks, such +as snapping a rubber band at me, and pulling out hairpins. + +But I felt that I must talk to someone. So I said: + +"Eddie, if you had your choice of love or a career, which would it be?" + +"Why not both," he said, hitching the rubber band onto one of his front +teeth and playing on it. "Neither ought to take up all a fellow's time. +Say, listen to this! Talk about a ukelele!" + +"A woman can never have both." + +He played a while, strumming with one finger until the hand slipped off +and stung him on the lip. + +"Once," I said, "I dreamed of a career. But I believe love's the most +important." + +Well, I shall pass lightly over what followed. Why is it that a girl +cannot speak of love without every member of the other sex present, no +matter how young, thinking it is he? And as for mother maintaining that +I kissed that wretched child, and they saw me from the drawing-room, it +is not true and never was true. It was but one more misunderstanding +which convinced the family that I was carrying on all manner of affairs. + +Carter Brooks had arrived that day, and was staying at the Perkins' +cottage. I got rid of the Perkins' baby, as his nose was bleeding--but I +had not slapped him hard at all, and felt little or no compunction--when +I heard Carter coming down the walk. He had called to see Leila, but +she had gone to a beach dance and left him alone. He never paid any +attention to me when she was around, and I received him coolly. + +"Hello!" he said. + +"Well?" I replied. + +"Is that the way you greet me, Bab?" + +"It's the way I would greet most any left-over," I said. "I eat hash at +school, but I don't have to pretend to like it." + +"I came to see YOU." + +"How youthful of you!" I replied, in stinging tones. + +He sat down on a bench and stared at me. + +"What's got into you lately?" he said. "Just as you're getting to be +the prettiest girl around, and I'm strong for you, you--you turn into a +regular rattlesnake." + +The kindness of his tone upset me considerably, to who so few kind words +had come recently. I am compelled to confess that I wept, although I had +not expected to, and indeed shed few tears, although bitter ones. + +How could I possibly know that the chaste salute of Eddie Perkins and my +head on Carter Brooks' shoulder were both plainly visible against the +rising moon? But this was the case, especially from the house next door. + +But I digress. + +Suddenly Carter held me off and shook me somewhat. + +"Sit up here and tell me about it," he said. "I'm getting more scared +every minute. You are such an impulsive little beast, and you turn the +fellows' heads so--look here, is Jane Raleigh lying, or did you run away +and get married to someone?" + +I am aware that I should have said, then and there, No. But it seemed a +shame to spoil things just as they were getting interesting. So I said, +through my tears: + +"Nobody understands me. Nobody. And I'm so lonely." + +"And of course you haven't run away with anyone, have you?" + +"Not--exactly." + +"Bless you, Bab!" he said. And I might as well say that he kissed me, +because he did, although unexpectedly. Somebody just then moved a chair +on the porch next door and coughed rather loudly, so Carter drew a long +breath and got up. + +"There's something about you lately, Bab, that I don't understand," he +said. "You--you're mysterious. That's the word. In a couple of years +you'll be the real thing." + +"Come and see me then," I said in a demure manner. And he went away. + +So I sat on my bench and looked at the sea and dreamed. It seemed to +me that centuries must have passed since I was a lighthearted girl, +running up and down that beach, paddling, and so forth, with no thought +of the future farther away than my next meal. + +Once I lived to eat. Now I merely ate to live, and hardly that. The +fires of genius must be fed, but no more. + +Sitting there, I suddenly made a discovery. The boat house was near me, +and I realized that upstairs, above the bath-houses, et cetera, there +must be a room or two. The very thought intrigued me (a new word for +interest, but coming into use, and sounding well). + +Solitude--how I craved it for my work. And here it was, or would be when +I had got the place fixed up. True, the next door boat-house was close, +but a boat-house is a quiet place, generally, and I knew that nowhere, +aside from the desert, is there perfect silence. + +I investigated at once, but found the place locked and the boatman gone. +However, there was a lattice, and I climbed up that and got in. I had a +fright there, as it seemed to be full of people, but I soon saw it was +only the family bathing suits hung up to dry. Aside from the odor of +drying things it was a fine study, and I decided to take a small table +there, and the various tools of my profession. + +Climbing down, however, I had a surprise. For a man was just below, and +I nearly put my foot on his shoulder in the darkness. + +"Hello!" he said. "So it's YOU." + +I was quite speechless. It was Mr. Beecher himself, in his dinner +clothes and bareheaded. + +Oh fluttering heart, be still. Oh pen, move steadily. OH TEMPORA O MORES! + +"Let me down," I said. I was still hanging to the lattice. + +"In a moment," he said. "I have an idea that the instant I do you'll +vanish. And I have something to tell you." + +I could hardly believe my ears. + +"You see," he went on, "I think you must move that bench." + +"Bench?" + +"You seem to be so very popular," he said. "And of course I'm only a +transient and don't matter. But some evening one of the admirers may be +on the Patten's porch, while another is with you on the bench. And--the +Moon rises beyond it." + +I was silent with horror. So that was what he thought of me. Like all the +others, he, too, did not understand. He considered me a flirt, when my +only thoughts were serious ones, of immortality and so on. + +"You'd better come down now," he said. "I was afraid to warn you until I +saw you climbing the lattice. Then I knew you were still young enough to +take a friendly word of advice." + +I got down then and stood before him. He was magnificent. Is there +anything more beautiful than a tall man with a gleaming expanse of dress +shirt? I think not. + +But he was staring at me. + +"Look here," he said. "I'm afraid I've made a mistake after all. I +thought you were a little girl." + +"That needn't worry you. Everybody does," I replied. "I'm seventeen, but +I shall be a mere child until I come out." + +"Oh!" he said. + +"One day I am a child in the nursery," I said. "And the next I'm grown +up and ready to be sold to the highest bidder." + +"I beg your pardon, I----" + +"But I am as grown up now as I will ever be," I said. "And indeed more +so. I think a great deal now, because I have plenty of time. But my +sister never thinks at all. She is too busy." + +"Suppose we sit on the bench. The moon is too high to be a menace, and +besides, I am not dangerous. Now, what do you think about?" + +"About life, mostly. But of course there is death, which is beautiful +but cold. And--one always thinks of love, doesn't one?" + +"Does one?" he asked. I could see he was much interested. As for me, I +dared not consider whom it was who sat beside me, almost touching. That +way lay madness. + +"Don't you ever," he said, "reflect on just ordinary things, like +clothes and so forth?" + +I shrugged my shoulders. + +"I don't get enough new clothes to worry about. Mostly I think of my +work." + +"Work?" + +"I am a writer" I said in a low, earnest tone. + +"No! How--how amazing. What do you write?" + +"I'm on a play now." + +"A comedy?" + +"No. A tragedy. How can I write a comedy when a play must always end +in a catastrophe? The book says all plays end in crisis, denouement and +catastrophe." + +"I can't believe it," he said. "But, to tell you a secret, I never read +any books about plays." + +"We are not all gifted from berth, as you are," I observed, not to +merely please him, but because I considered it the simple truth. + +He pulled out his watch and looked at it in the moonlight. + +"All this reminds me," he said, "that I have promised to go to work +tonight. But this is so--er--thrilling that I guess the work can wait. +Well--now go on." + +Oh, the joy of that night! How can I describe it? To be at last in +the company of one who understood, who--as he himself had said in "Her +Soul"--spoke my own language! Except for the occasional mosquito, +there was no sound save the tumescent sea and his voice. + +Often since that time I have sat and listened to conversation. How flat +it sounds to listen to father conversing about Gold, or Sis about Clothes, +or even to the young men who come to call, and always talk about +themselves. + +We were at last interrupted in a strange manner. Mr. Patten came down +their walk and crossed to us, walking very fast. He stopped right in +front of us and said: + +"Look here, Reg, this is about all I can stand." + +"Oh, go away, and sing, or do something," said Mr. Beecher sharply. + +"You gave me your word of honor" said the Patten man. "I can only remind +you of that. Also of the expense I'm incurring, and all the rest of it. +I've shown all sorts of patience, but this is the limit." + +He turned on his heel, but came back for a last word or two. + +"Now see here," he said, "we have everything fixed the way you said you +wanted it. And I'll give you ten minutes. That's all." + +He stalked away, and Mr. Beecher looked at me. + +"Ten minutes of heaven," he said, "and then perdition with that bunch. +Look here," he said, "I--I'm awfully interested in what you are telling +me. Let's cut off up the beach and talk." + +Oh night of nights! Oh moon of moons! + +Our talk was strictly business. He asked me my plot, and although I had +been warned not to do so, even to David Belasco, I gave it to him fully. +And even now, when all is over, I am not sorry. Let him use it if he +will. I can think of plenty of plots. + +The real tragedy is that we met father. He had been ordered to give up +smoking, and I considered he had done so, mother feeling that I should be +encouraged in leaving off cigarettes. So when I saw the cigar I was sure +it was not father. It proved to be, however, and although he passed with +nothing worse than a glare, I knew I was in more trouble. + +At last we reached the bench again, and I said good night. Our relations +continued business-like to the last. He said: + +"Good night, little authoress, and let's have some more talks." + +"I'm afraid I've bored you," I said. + +"Bored me!" he said. "I haven't spent such an evening for years!" + +The family acted perfectly absurd about it. Seeing that they were going +to make a fuss, I refused to say with whom I had been walking. You'd +have thought I had committed a crime. + +"It has come to this, Barbara," mother said, pacing the floor. "You +cannot be trusted out of our sight. Where do you meet all these men? If +this is how things are now, what will it be when given your liberty?" + +Well, it is to painful to record. I was told not to leave the place for +three days, although allowed the boat-house. And of course Sis had to +chime in that she'd heard a rumor I had run away and got married, and +although of course she knew it wasn't true, owing to no time to do so, +still where there was smoke there was fire. + +But I felt that their confidence in me was going, and that night, after +all were in the land of dreams, I took that wretched suit of clothes and +so on to the boathouse, and hid them in the rafters upstairs. + +I come now to the strange event of the next day, and its sequel. + +The Patten place and ours are close together, and no other house near. +Mother had been very cool about the Pattens, owing to nobody knowing +them that we knew. Although I must say they had the most interesting +people all the time, and Sis was crazy to call and meet some of them. + +Jane came that day to visit her aunt, and she ran down to see me first +thing. + +"Come and have a ride," she said. "I've got the runabout, and after that +we'll bathe and have a real time." + +But I shook my head. + +"I'm a prisoner, Jane," I said. + +"Honestly! Is it the play, or something else?" + +"Something else, Jane," I said. "I can tell you nothing more. I am simply +in trouble, as usual." + +"But why make you a prisoner, unless----" She stopped suddenly and +stared at me. + +"He has claimed you!" she said. "He is here, somewhere about this place, +and now, having had time to think it over, you do not want to go to him. +Don't deny it. I see it in your face. Oh, Bab, my heart aches for you." + +It sounded so like a play that I kept it up. Alas, with what results! + +"What else can I do, Jane?" I said. + +"You can refuse, if you do not love him. Oh Bab, I did not say it +before, thinking you loved him. But no man who wears clothes like those +could ever win my heart. At least, not permanently." + +Well, she did most of the talking. She had finished the bath towel, +which was a large size, after all, and monogrammed, and she made me +promise never to let my husband use it. When she went away she left it +with me, and I carried it out and put it on the rafters, with the other +things--I seemed to be getting more to hide every day. + +Things went all wrong the next day. Sis was in a bad temper, and as much +as said I was flirting with Carter Brooks, although she never intends to +marry him herself, owing to his not having money and never having asked +her. + +I spent the morning in fixing up a studio in the boat-house, and felt +better by noon. I took two boards on trestles and made a desk, and +brought a dictionary and some pens and ink out. I use a dictionary +because now and then I am uncertain how to spell a word. + +Events now moved swiftly and terribly. I did not do much work, being +exhausted by my efforts to fix up the studio, and besides, feeling that +nothing much was worth while when one's family did not and never would +understand. At eleven o'clock Sis and Carter and Jane and some others +went in bathing from our dock. Jane called up to me, but I pretended not +to hear. They had a good time judging by the noise, although I should +think Jane would cover her arms and neck in the water, being very thin. +Legs one can do nothing with, although I should think stripes going +around would help. But arms can have sleeves. + +However--the people next door went in too, and I thrilled to the core +when Mr. Beecher left the bath-house and went down to the beech. What +a physique! What shoulders, all brown and muscular! And to think that, +strong as they were, they wrote the tender love scenes of his plays. +Strong and tender--what descriptive words they are! It was then that I +saw he had been vaccinated twice. + +To resume. All the Pattens went in, and a new girl with them, in a +one piece suit. I do not deny that she was pretty. I only say that she +was not modest, and that the way she stood on the Patten's dock +and posed for Mr. Beecher's benefit was unnecessary and well, not +respectable. + +She was nothing to me, nor I to her. But I watched her closely. I +confess that I was interested in Mr. Beecher. Why not? He was a public +character, and entitled to respect. Nay, even to love. But I maintain +and will to my dying day, that such love is different from that +ordinarily born to the other sex, and a thing to be proud of. + +Well, I was seeing a drama and did not even know it. After the rest +had gone, Mr. Patten came to the door into Mr. Beecher's room in the +bath-house--they are all in a row, with doors opening on the sand--and +he had a box in his hand. He looked around, and no one was looking +except me, and he did not see me. He looked very fierce and glum, and +shortly after he carried in a chair and a folding card table. I thought +this was very strange, but imagine how I felt when he came out carrying +Mr. Beecher's clothes! He brought them all, going on his tiptoes and +watching every minute. I felt like screaming. + +However, I considered that it was a practical joke, and I am no spoil +sport. So I sat still and waited. They stayed in the water a long time, +and the girl with the figure was always crawling out on the dock and +then diving in to show off. Leila and the rest got sick of her actions +and came in to lunch. They called up to me, but I said I was not hungry. + +"I don't know what's come over Bab," I heard Sis say to Carter Brooks. +"She's crazy, I think." + +"She's seventeen," he said. "That's all. They get over it mostly, but +she has it hard." + +I loathed him. + +Pretty soon the other crowd came up, and I could see every one knew the +joke but Mr. Beecher. They all scuttled into their doorways, and Mr. +Patten waited till Mr. Beecher was inside and had thrown out the shirt +of his bathing suit. Then he locked the door from the outside. + +There was a silence for a minute. Then Mr. Beecher said in a terrible +voice. + +"So that's the game, is it?" + +"Now listen, Reg," Mr. Patten said, in a soothing voice. "I've tried +everything but force, and now I'm driven to that. I've got to have that +third act. The company's got the first two acts well under way, and I'm +getting wires about every hour. I've got to have that script." + +"You go to Hell!" said Mr. Beecher. You could hear him plainly through +the window, high up in the wall. And although I do not approve of an +oath, there are times when it eases the tortured soul. + +"Now be reasonable, Reg," Mr. Patten pleaded. "I've put a fortune in +this thing, and you're lying down on the job. You could do it in four +hours if you'd put your mind to it." + +There was no answer to this. And he went on: + +"I'll send out food or anything. But nothing to drink. There's champagne +on the ice for you when you've finished, however. And you'll find pens +and ink and paper on the table." + +The answer to this was Mr. Beecher's full weight against the door. But it +held, even against the full force of his fine physic. + +"Even if you do break it open," Mr. Patten said, "you can't go very far +the way you are. Now be a good fellow, and let's get this thing done. +It's for your good as well as mine. You'll make a fortune out of it." + +Then he went into his own door, and soon came out, looking like a +gentleman, unless one knew, as I did, that he was a whited sepulcher. + +How long I sat there, paralyzed with emotion, I do not know. Hannah +came out and roused me from my trance of grief. She is a kindly soul, +although too afraid of mother to be helpful. + +"Come in like a good girl, Miss Bab," she said. "There's that fruit +salad that cook prides herself on, and I'll ask her to brown a bit of +sweetbread for you." + +"Hannah," I said in a low voice, "there is a crime being committed in +this neighborhood, and you talk to me of food." + +"Good gracious, Miss Bab!" + +"I cannot tell you any more than that, Hannah," I said gently, "because +it is only being done now, and I cannot make up my mind about it. But of +course I do not want any food." + +As I say, I was perfectly gentle with her, and I do not understand why +she burst into tears and went away. + +I sat and thought it all over. I could not leave, under the +circumstances. But yet, what was I to do? It was hardly a police matter, +being between friends, as one may say, and yet I simply could not bare +to leave my ideal there in that damp bath-house without either food or, +as one may say, raiment. + +About the middle of the afternoon it occurred to me to try to find a key +for the lock of the bath-house. I therefore left my studio and proceeded +to the house. I passed close by the fatal building, but there was no +sound from it. + +I found a number of trunk-keys in a drawer in the library, and was about +to escape with them, when father came in. He gave me a long look, and +said: + +"Bee still buzzing?" + +I had hoped for some understanding from him, but my spirits fell at this +speech. + +"I am still working, father," I said, in a firm if nervous tone. "I am +not doing as good work as I would if things were different, but--I am at +least content, if not happy." + +He stared at me, and then came over to me. + +"Put out your tongue," he said. + +Even against this crowning infamy I was silent. + +"That's all right," he said. "Now see here, Chicken, get into your +riding togs and we'll order the horses. I don't intend to let this +play-acting upset your health." + +But I refused. "Unless, of course, you insist," I finished. He only +shook his head, however, and left the room. I felt that I had lost my +last friend. + +I did not try the keys myself, but instead stood off a short distance +and threw them through the window. I learned later that they struck +Mr. Beecher on the head. Not knowing, of course, that I had flung them, +and that my reason was pure friendliness and idealism, he threw them +out again with a violent exclamation. They fell at my feet, and lay +there, useless, rejected, tragic. + +At last I summoned courage to speak. + +"Can't I do something to help?" I said, in a quaking voice, to the +window. + +There was no answer, but I could hear a pen scratching on paper. + +"I do so want to help you," I said, in a louder tone. + +"Go, away" said his voice, rather abstracted than angry. + +"May I try the keys?" I asked. Be still, my heart! For the scratching had +ceased. + +"Who's that?" asked the beloved voice. I say 'beloved' because an ideal +is always beloved. The voice was beloved, but sharp. + +"It's me." + +I heard him mutter something, and I think he came to the door. + +"Look here," he said. "Go away. Do you understand? I want to work. And +don't come near here again until seven o'clock." + +"Very well," I said faintly. + +"And then come without fail," he said. + +"Yes, Mr. Beecher," I replied. How commanding he was! Strong but tender! + +"And if anyone comes around making a noise, before that, you shoot them +for me, will you?" + +"SHOOT them?" + +"Drive them off, or use a bean-shooter. Anything. But don't yell at +them. It distracts me." + +It was a sacred trust. I, and only I, stood between him and his MAGNUM +OPUS. I sat down on the steps of our bath-house, and took up my vigil. + +It was about five o'clock when I heard Jane approaching. I knew it was +Jane, because she always wears tight shoes, and limps when unobserved. +Although having the reputation of the smallest foot of any girl in our +set in the city, I prefer comfort and ease, unhampered by heals--French +or otherwise. No man will ever marry a girl because she wears a small +shoe, and catches her heals in holes in the boardwalk, and has to soak +her feet at night before she can sleep. However---- + +Jane came on, and found me crouched on the doorstep, in a lowly +attitude, and holding my finger to my lips. + +She stopped and stared at me. + +"Hello," she said. "What do you think you are? A statue?" + +"Hush, Jane," I said, in a low tone. "I can only ask you to be quiet and +speak in whispers. I cannot give the reason." + +"Good heavens!" she whispered. "What has happened, Bab?" + +"It is happening now, but I cannot explain." + +"WHAT is happening?" + +"Jane," I whispered, earnestly, "you have known me a long time and I have +always been trustworthy, have I not?" + +She nodded. She is never exactly pretty, and now she had opened her +mouth and forgot to close it. + +"Then ask no questions. Trust me, as I am trusting you." It seemed to +me that Mr. Beecher threw his pen at the door, and began to pace the +bath-house. Owing of course to his being in his bare feet, I was not +certain. Jane heard something, too, for she clutched my arm. + +"Bab," she said, in intense tones, "if you don't explain I shall lose my +mind. I feel now that I am going to shriek." + +She looked at me searchingly. + +"Somebody is a prisoner. That's all." + +It was the truth, was it not? And was there any reasons for Jane Raleigh +to jump to conclusions as she did, and even to repeat later in public +that I had told her that my lover had come for me, and that father had +locked him up to prevent my running away with him, immuring him in the +Patten's bath-house? Certainly not. + +Just then I saw the boatman coming who looks after our motor boat, and I +tiptoed to him and asked him to go away, and not to come back unless he +had quieter boats and would not whistle. He acted very ugly about it, I +must say, but he went. + +When I came back, Jane was sitting thinking, with her forehead all +puckered. + +"What I don't understand, Bab," she said, "is, why no noise?" + +"Because he is writing," I explained. "Although his clothing has been +taken away, he is writing. I don't think I told you, Jane, but that is +his business. He is a writer. And if I tell you his name you will faint +with surprise." + +She looked at me searchingly. + +"Locked up--and writing, and his clothing gone! What's he writing, Bab? +His will?" + +"He is doing his duty to the end, Jane," I said softly. "He is writing +the last act of a play. The company is rehearsing the first two acts, +and he has to get this one ready, though the heavens fall." + +But to my surprise, she got up and said to me, in a firm voice: + +"Either you are crazy, Barbara Archibald, or you think I am. You've +been stuffing me for about a week, and I don't believe a word of it. And +you'll apologize to me or I'll never speak to you again." + +She said this loudly, and then went away, And Mr. Beecher said, through +the door. + +"What the devil's the row about?" + +Perhaps my nerves were going, or possibly it was no luncheon and +probably no dinner. But I said, just as if he had been an ordinary +person: + +"Go on and write and get through. I can't stew on these steps all day." + +"I thought you were an amiable child." + +"I'm not amiable and I'm not a child." + +"Don't spoil your pretty face with frowns." + +"It's MY face. And you can't see it anyhow," I replied, venting in +feminine fashion, my anger at Jane on the nearest object. + +"Look here," he said, through the door, "you've been my good angel. I'm +doing more work than I've done in two months, although it was a dirty, +low-down way to make me do it. You're not going back on me now, are +you?" + +Well, I was mollified, as who would not be? So I said: + +"Well?" + +"What did Patten do with my clothes?" + +"He took them with him." He was silent, except for a muttered word. + +"You might throw those keys back again," he said. "Let me know first, +however. You're the most accurate thrower I've ever seen." + +So I threw them through the window and I believe hit the ink bottle. +But no matter. And he tried them, but none availed. + +So he gave up, and went back to work, having saved enough ink to finish +with. But a few minutes later he called to me again, and I moved to the +doorstep, where I sat listening, while apparently admiring the sea. He +explained that having been thus forced, he had almost finished the last +act, and it was a corker. And he said if he had his clothes and some +money, and a key to get out, he'd go right back to town with it and +put it in rehearsal. And at the same time he would give the Pattens +something to worry about over night. Because, play or no play, it was a +rotten thing to lock a man in a bath-house and take his clothes away. + +"But of course I can't get my clothes," he said. "They'll take cussed +good care of that. And there's the key too. We're up against it, little +sister." + +Although excited by his calling me thus, I retained my faculties, and +said: + +"I have a suit of clothes you can have." + +"Thanks awfully," he said. "But from the slight acquaintance we have +had, I don't believe they would fit me." + +"Gentleman's clothes," I said frigidly. + +"You have?" + +"In my studio," I said. "I can bring them, if you like. They look quite +good, although creased." + +"You know" he said, after a moment's silence, "I can't quite believe +this is really happening to me! Go and bring the suit of clothes, +and--you don't happen to have a cigar, I suppose?" + +"I have a large box of cigarettes." + +"It is true," I heard him say through the door. "It is all true. I am +here, locked in. The play is almost done. And a very young lady on the +doorstep is offering me a suit of clothes and tobacco. I pinch myself. I +am awake." + +Alas! Mingled with my joy at serving my ideal there was also grief. My +idle had feet of clay. He was a slave, like the rest of us, to his body. +He required clothes and tobacco. I felt that, before long, he might even +ask for an apple, or something to stay the pangs of hunger. This I felt +I could not bare. + +Perhaps I would better pass over quickly the events of the next hour. I +got the suit and the cigarettes, and even Jane's bath towel, and threw +them in to him. Also I believe he took a shower, as I heard the water +running, At about seven o'clock he said he had finished the play. He put +on the clothes which he observed almost fitted him, although gayer than +he usually wore, and said that if I would give him a hair pin he thought +he could pick the lock. But he did not succeed. + +Being now dressed, however, he drew a chair to the window and we +talked together. It seemed like a dream that I should be there, on such +intimate terms with a great playwright, who had just, even if under +compulsion, finished a last act, I bared my very soul to him, such as +about resembling Julia Marlowe, and no one understanding my craving to +achieve a place in the world of art. We were once interrupted by Hannah +looking for me for dinner. But I hid in a bath-house, and she went away. + +What was food to me compared with such a conversation? + +When Hannah had disappeared, he said suddenly: + +"It's rather unusual, isn't it, your having a suit of clothes and +everything in your--er--studio?" + +But I did not explain fully, merely saving that it was a painful story. + +At half past seven I saw mother on the veranda looking for me, and I +ducked out of sight, I was by this time very hungry, although I did not +like to mention the fact, But Mr. Beecher made a suggestion, which was +this: that the Pattens were evidently going to let him starve until +he got through work, and that he would see them in perdition before +he would be the butt for their funny remarks when they freed him. He +therefore tried to escape out the window, but stuck fast, and finally gave +it up. + +At last he said: + +"Look here, you're a curious child, but a nervy one. How'd you like to +see if you can get the key? If you do we'll go to a hotel and have a +real meal, and we can talk about your career." + +Although quivering with terror, I consented. How could I do otherwise, +with such a prospect? For now I began to see that all other emotions +previously felt were as nothing to this one. I confess, without shame, +that I felt the stirring of the tender passion in my breast. Ah me, that +it should have died ere it had hardly lived! + +"Where is the key?" I asked, in a rapt but anxious tone. + +He thought a while. + +"Generally," he said, "it hangs on a nail at the back entry. But the +chances are that Patten took it up to his room this time, for safety, +You'd know it if you saw it. It has some buttons off somebody's bathing +suit tied to it." + +Here it was necessary to hide again, as father came stocking out, +calling me in an angry tone. But shortly after-wards I was on my way +to the Patten's house, on shaking knees. It was by now twilight, that +beautiful period of romance, although the dinner hour also. Through the +dusk I sped, toward what? I knew not. + +The Pattens and the one-piece lady were at dinner, and having a very +good time, in spite of having locked a guest in the bath-house. Being +used to servants and prowling around, since at one time when younger I +had a habit of taking things from the pantry, I was quickly able to see +that the key was not in the entry. I therefore went around to the front +door and went in, being prepared, if discovered, to say that someone was +in their bath-house and they ought to know it. But I was not heard among +their sounds of revelry, and was able to proceed upstairs, which I did. + +But not having asked which was Mr. Patten's room, I was at a loss and +almost discovered by a maid who was turning down the beds--much too +early, also, and not allowed in the best houses until nine-thirty, since +otherwise the rooms look undressed and informal. + +I had but time to duck into another chamber, and from there to a closet. + +I REMAINED IN THAT CLOSET ALL NIGHT. + +I will explain. No sooner had the maid gone than a woman came into the +room and closed the door. I heard her moving around and I suddenly felt +that she was going to bed, and might get her robe de nuit out of the +closet. I was petrified. But it seems, while she really WAS undressing +at that early hour, the maid had laid her night clothes out, and I was +saved. + +Very soon a knock came to the door, and somebody came in, like Mrs. +Patten's voice and said: "You're not going to bed, surely!" + +"I'm going to pretend to have a sick headache," said the other person, +and I knew it was the one-piece lady. "He's going to come back in a +frenzy, and he'll take it out on me, unless I'm prepared." + +"Poor Reggie!" said Mrs. Patten, "To think of him locked in there alone, +and no clothes or anything. It's too funny for words." + +"You're not married to him." + +My heart stopped beating. Was SHE married to him? She was indeed. My +dream was over. And the worst part of it was that for a married man +I had done without food or exercise and now stood in a hot closet in +danger of a terrible fuss. + +"No, thank heaven!" said Mrs. Patten. "But it was the only way to make +him work. He is a lazy dog. But don't worry. We'll feed him before he +sees you. He's always rather tractable after he's fed." + +Were ALL my dreams to go? Would they leave nothing to my shattered +illusions? Alas, no. + +"Jolly him a little, too," said----can I write it?--Mrs. Beecher. "Tell +him he's the greatest thing in the world. That will help some. He's +vain, you know, awfully vain. I expect he's written a lot of piffle." + +Had they listened they would have heard a low, dry sob, wrung from +my tortured heart. But Mrs. Beecher had started a vibrator, and my +anguished cry was lost. + +"Well," said Mrs. Patten, "Will has gone down to let him out, I expect +he'll attack him. He's got a vile temper. I'll sit with you till he +comes back, if you don't mind. I'm feeling nervous." + +It was indeed painful to recall the next half hour. I must tell the +truth however. They discussed us, especially mother, who had not called. +They said that we thought we were the whole summer colony, although +every one was afraid of mother's tongue, and nobody would marry Leila, +except Carter Brooks, and he was poor and no prospects. And that I was +an incorrigible, and carried on something ghastly, and was going to be put +in a convent. I became justly furious and was about to step out and tell +them a few plain facts, when somebody hammered at the door and then came +in. It was Mr. Patten. + +"He's gone!" he said. + +"Well, he won't go far, in bathing trunks," said Mrs. Beecher. + +"That's just it. His bathing trunks are there." + +"Well, he won't go far without them!" + +"He's gone so far I can't locate him." + +I heard Mrs. Beecher get up. + +"Are you in earnest, Will?" she said. "Do you mean that he has gone +without a stitch of clothes, and can't be found?" + +Mrs. Patten gave a sort of screech. + +"You don't think--oh Will, he's so temperamental. You don't think he's +drowned himself?" + +"No such luck," said Mrs. Beecher, in a cold tone. I hated her for it. +True, he had deceived me. He was not as I had thought him. In our two +conversations he had not mentioned his wife, leaving me to believe him +free to love "where he listed," as the poet says. + +"There are a few clues," said Mr. Patten. "He got out by means of a wire +hairpin, for one thing. And he took the manuscript with him, which he'd +hardly have done if he meant to drown himself. Or even if, as we fear, +he had no pockets. He has smoked a lot of cigarettes out of a candy box, +which I did not supply him, and he left behind a bath towel that does +not, I think, belong to us." + +"I should think he would have worn it," said Mrs. Beecher, in a +scornful tone. + +"Here's the bath towel," Mr. Patten went on. "You may recognize the +initials. I don't." + +"B. P. A.," said Mrs. Beecher. "Look here, don't they call that--that +flibbertigibbet next door 'Barbara'?" + +"The little devil!" said Mr. Patten, in a raging tone. "She let him out, +and of course he's done no work on the play or anything. I'd like to +choke her." + +Nobody spoke then, and my heart beat fast and hard. I leave it to +anybody, how they'd like to be shut in a closet and threatened with a +violent death from without. Would or would they not ever be the same +person afterwords? + +"I'll tell you what I'd do," said the Beecher woman. "I'd climb up the +back of father, next door, and tell him what his little daughter has +done, because I know she's mixed up in it, towel or no towel. Reg is +always sappy when they're seventeen. And she's been looking moon-eyed at +him for days." + +Well, the Pattens went away, and Mrs. Beecher manicured her nails,--I +could hear her filing them--and sang around and was not much concerned, +although for all she knew he was in the briny deep, a corpse. How true +it is that "the paths of glory lead but to the grave." + +I got very tired and much hotter, and I sat down on the floor. After what +seemed like hours, Mrs. Patten came back, all breathless, and she said: + +"The girl's gone too, Clare." + +"What girl?" + +"Next door. If you want excitement, they've got it. The mother is in +hysterics and there's a party searching the beach for her body. The +truth is, of course, if that towel means anything." + +"That Reg has run away with her, of course," said Mrs. Beecher, in a +resigned tone. "I wish he would grow up and learn something. He's becoming +a nuisance. And when there are so many interesting people to run away +with, to choose that chit!" + +Yes, she said that, And in my retreat I could but sit and listen, and +of course perspire, which I did freely. Mrs. Patten went away, after +talking about the "scandal" for some time. And I sat and thought of the +beach being searched for my body, a thought which filled my eyes with +tears of pity for what might have been, I still hoped Mrs. Beecher would +go to bed, but she did not. Through the key hole I could see her with a +book, reading, and not caring at all that Mr. Beecher's body, and mine +too, might be washing about in the cruel sea, or have eloped to New York. + +I loathed her. + +At last I must have slept, for a bell rang, and there I was still in the +closet, and she was answering it. + +"Arrested?" she said, "Well, I should think he'd better be, if what you +say about clothing is true.... Well, then--what's he arrested for?... +Oh, kidnapping! Well, if I'm any judge, they ought to arrest the +Archibald girl for kidnapping HIM. No, don't bother me with it tonight. +I'll try to read myself to sleep." + +So this was marriage! Did she flee to her unjustly accused husband's side +and comfort him? Not she. She went to bed. + +At daylight, being about smothered, I opened the closet door and drew a +breath of fresh air. Also I looked at her, and she was asleep, with her +hair in patent wavers. Ye gods! + +The wife of Reginald Beecher thus to distort her looks at night! I could +not bare it. + +I averted my eyes, and on my tiptoes made for the window. + +My sufferings were over. In a short time I had slid down and was making +my way through the dewy morn toward my home. Before the sun was up, +or more than starting, I had climbed to my casement by means of a wire +trellis, and put on my 'robe de nuit'. But before I settled to sleep I +went to the pantry and there satisfied the pangs of hunger having had +nothing since breakfast the day before. All the lights seemed to be on, +on the lower floor, which I considered wasteful of Tanney, the butler. +But being sleepy, gave it no further thought. And so to bed, as the +great English dairy-keeper, Pepys, had said in his dairy. + +It seemed but a few moments later that I heard a scream, and opening my +eyes, saw Leila in the doorway. She screamed again, and mother came and +stood beside her. Although very drowsy, I saw that they still wore their +dinner clothes. + +They stared as if transfixed, and then mother gave a low moan, and said +to Sis: + +"That unfortunate man has been in jail all night." + +And Sis said: "Jane Raleigh is crazy. That's all." Then they looked at +me, and mother burst into tears. But Sis said: + +"You little imp! Don't tell me you've been in that bed all night. I KNOW +BETTER." + +I closed my eyes. They were not of the understanding sort, and never +would be. + +"If that's the way you feel I shall tell you nothing," I said wearily. + +"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" mother said, in a slow and dreadful voice. + +Well, I saw then that a part of the truth must be disclosed, especially +since she has for some time considered sending me to a convent, although +without cause, and has not done so for fear of my taking the veil. So I +told her this. I said: + +"I spent the night shut in a clothes closet, but where is my secret. +I cannot tell you." + +"Barbara! You MUST tell me." + +"It is not my secret alone, mother." + +She caught at the foot of the bed. + +"Who was shut with you in that closet?" she demanded in a shaking voice. +"Barbara, there is another wretched man in all this. It could not have +been Mr. Beecher, because he has been in the station house all night." + +I sat up, leaning on one elbow, and looked at her earnestly. + +"Mother" I said, "you have done enough damage, interfering with +careers--not only mine, but another's imperiled now by not having a +last act. I can tell you no more, except"--here my voice took on a deep +and intense fiber--"that I have done nothing to be ashamed of, although +unconventional." + +Mother put her hands to her face, and emitted a low, despairing cry. + +"Come," Leila said to her, as to a troubled child. "Come, and Hannah can +use the vibrator on your spine." + +So she went, but before she left she said: + +"Barbara, if you will only promise to be a good girl, and give us a +chance to live this scandal down, I will give you anything you ask for." + +"Mother!" Sis said, in an angry tone. + +"What can I do, Leila?" mother said. "The girl is attractive, and +probably men will always be following her and making trouble. Think of +last winter. I know it is bribery, but it is better than scandal." + +"I want nothing, mother," I said, in a low, heart stricken tone, "save to +be allowed to live my own life and to have a career." + +"My heavens," mother said, "if I hear that word again, I'll go crazy." + +So she went away, and Sis came over and looked down at me. + +"Well!" she said. "What's happened anyhow? Of course you've been up to +some mischief, but I don't suppose anybody will ever know the truth +of it. I was hoping you'd make it this time and get married, and stop +worrying us." + +"Go away, please, and let me sleep," I said. "As to getting married, +under no circumstances did I expect to marry him. He has a wife already. +Personally, I think she's a total loss. She wears patent wavers at +night, and sleeps with her mouth open. But who am I to interfere with +the marriage bond? I never have and never will." + +But Sis only gave me a wild look and went away. + + +This, dear readers and schoolmates, is the true story of my meeting with +and parting from Reginald Beecher, the playwright. Whatever the papers +may say, it is not true, except the fact that he was recognized by Jane +Raleigh, who knew the suit he wore, when in the act of pawning his ring +to get money to escape from his captors (I. E., The Pattens). It +was the necktie which struck her first, and also his guilty expression. +As I was missing by that time, Jane put two and two together and made an +elopement. + +Sometimes I sit and think things over, my fingers wandering "over the +ivory keys" of the typewriter they gave me to promise not to elope with +anybody--although such a thing is far from my mind--and the world seems +a cruel and unjust place, especially to those with ambition. + +For Reginald Beecher is no longer my ideal, my night of the pen. I will +tell about that in a few words. + +Jane Raleigh and I went to a matinee late in September before returning +to our institutions of learning. Jane clutched my arm as we looked at our +programs and pointed to something. + +How my heart beat! For whatever had come between us, I was still loyal +to him. + +This was a new play by him! + +"Ah," my heart seemed to say, "now again you will hear his dear words, +although spoken by alien mouths. + +"The love scenes----" + +I could not finish. Although married and forever beyond me, I could +still hear his manly tones as issuing from the door of the Bath-house. +I thrilled with excitement. As the curtain rose I closed my eyes in +ecstasy. + +"Bab!" Jane said, in a quavering tone. + +I looked. What did I see? The bath-house itself, the very one. And as +I stared I saw a girl, wearing her hair as I wear mine, cross the stage +with a bunch of keys in her hand, and say to the bath-house door. + +"Can't I do something to help? I do so want to help you." + +MY VERY WORDS. + +And a voice from beyond the bath-house door said: + +"Who's that?" + +HIS WORDS. + +I could bare no more. Heedless of Jane's protests and anguish, I got up +and went out, into the light of day. My body was bent with misery. +Because at last I knew that, like mother and all the rest, he too, did +not understand me and never would! To him I was but material, the stuff +that plays are made of!= + +```And now we know that he never could know, + +```And did not understand. + +```Kipling.= + +Ignoring Jane's observation that the tickets had cost two dollars each, +I gathered up the scattered skeins of my life together, and fled. + + + +CHAPTER III. HER DIARY: BEING THE DAILY JOURNAL OF THE SUB-DEB + + +JANUARY 1st. I have today received this diary from home, having come +back a few days early to make up a French condition. + +Weather, clear and cold. + +New Year's dinner. Roast chicken (Turkey being very expensive), mashed +turnips, sweet potatoes and mince pie. + +It is my intention to record in this book the details of my Daily Life, +my thoughts which are to sacred for utterance, and my ambitions. Because +who is there to whom I can speak them? I am surrounded by those who +exist for the mere pleasures of the day, or whose lives are bound up in +recitations. + +For instance, at dinner today, being mostly faculty and a few girls +who live in the far West, the conversation was entirely on buying a +phonograph for dancing because the music teacher has the measles and +is quarantined in the infirmary. And on Miss Everett's cousin, who has +written a play. + +When one looks at Miss Everett, one recognizes that no cousin of hers +could write a play. + +New Year's resolution--to help someone every day. Today helped +Mademoiselle to put on her rubbers. + + +JANUARY 2ND. Today I wrote my French theme, beginning, "Les hommes +songent moins a leur ame qua leur corps." Mademoiselle sent for me and +objected, saying that it was not a theme for a young girl, and that I +must write a new one, on the subject of pears. How is one to develop in +this atmosphere? + +Some of the girls are coming back. They straggle in, and put the favors +they got at cotillions on the dresser, and their holiday gifts, and each +one relates some amorous experience while at home. Dear Diary, is there +something wrong with me, that love has passed me by? I have had offers +of devotion but none that appealed to me, being mostly either too young or +not attracting me by physical charm. I am not cold, although frequently +accused of it, Beneath my frigid exterior beats a warm heart. I intend +to be honest in this diary, and so I admit it. But, except for passing +fancies--one being, alas, for a married man--I remain without the divine +passion. + +What must it be to thrill at the approach of the loved form? To harken +to each ring of the telephone bell, in the hope that, if it is not +the idolized voice, it is at least a message from it? To waken in the +morning and, looking around the familiar room, to muse: "Today I may see +him--on the way to the post office, or rushing past in his racing car." +And to know that at the same moment HE to is musing: "Today I may see +her, as she exercises herself at basket ball, or mounts her horse for a +daily canter!" + +Although I have no horse. The school does not care for them, considering +walking the best exercise. + +Have flunked the French again, Mademoiselle not feeling well, and +marking off for the smallest thing. + +Today's helpful deed--assisted one of the younger girls with her +spelling. + + +JANUARY 4TH. Miss Everett's cousin's play is coming here. The school is +to have free tickets, as they are "trying it on the dog." Which means +seeing if it is good enough for the large cities. + +We have decided, if Everett marks us well in English from now on, to +applaud it, but if she is unpleasant, to sit still and show no interest. + + +JANUARY 5TH, 6TH, 7TH, 8TH. Bad weather, which is depressing to one of +my temperament. Also boil on nose. + +A few helpful deeds--nothing worth putting down. + + +JANUARY 9TH. Boil cut. + +Again I can face my image in my mirror, and not shrink. + +Mademoiselle is sick and no French. MISERICORDE! + +Helpful deed--sent Mademoiselle some fudge, but this school does not +encourage kindness. Reprimanded for cooking in room. School sympathizes +with me. We will go to Miss Everett's cousin's play, but we will damn it +with faint praise. + + +JANUARY 10TH. I have written this date, and now I sit back and regard +it. As it is impressed on this white paper, so, Dear Diary, is it +written on my soul. To others it may be but the tenth of January. To me +it is the day of days. Oh, tenth of January! Oh, Monday. Oh, day of my +awakening! + +It is now late at night, and around me my schoolmates are sleeping the +sleep of the young and heart free. Lights being off, I am writing by the +faint luminosity of a candle. Propped up in bed, my mackinaw coat over +my 'robe de nuit' for warmth, I sit and dream. And as I dream I still hear +in my ears his final words: "My darling. My woman!" + +How wonderful to have them said to one night after night, the while +being in his embrace, his tender arms around one! I refer to the heroine +in the play, to whom he says the above rapturous words. + +Coming home from the theater tonight, still dazed with the revelation of +what I am capable of, once aroused, I asked Miss Everett if her cousin +had said anything about Mr. Egleston being in love with the leading +character. She observed: + +"No. But he may be. She is very pretty." + +"Possibly," I remarked. "But I should like to see her in the morning, +when she gets up." + +All the girls were perfectly mad about Mr. Egleston, although pretending +merely to admire his Art. But I am being honest, as I agreed at the +start, and now I know, as I sit here with the soft, although chilly +breezes of the night blowing on my hot brow, now I know that this thing +that has come to me is Love. Moreover, it is the Love of my Life. He will +never know it, but I am his. He is exactly my ideal, strong and tall and +passionate. And clever, too. He said some awfully clever things. + +I believe that he saw me. He looked in my direction. But what does it +matter? I am small, insignificant. He probably thinks me a mere child, +although seventeen. + +What matters, oh Diary, is that I am at last in Love. It is hopeless. +Just now, when I had written that word, I buried my face in my hands. +There is no hope. None. I shall never see him again. He passed out of my +life on the 11:45 train. But I love him. MON DIEU, how I love him! + + +JANUARY 11TH. We are going home. WE ARE GOING HOME. WE ARE GOING HOME. +WE ARE GOING HOME! + +Mademoiselle has the measles. + + +JANUARY 13TH. The family managed to restrain its ecstasy on seeing me +today. The house is full of people, as they are having a dinner-dance +tonight. Sis had moved into my room, to let one of the visitors have +hers, and she acted in a very unfilial manner when she came home and +found me in it. + +"Well!" she said. "Expelled at last?" + +"Not at all," I replied in a lofty manner. "I am here through no fault +of my own. And I'd thank you to have Hannah take your clothes off my +bed." + +She gave me a bitter glance. + +"I never knew it to fail!" she said. "Just as everything is fixed, and +we're recovering from you're being here for the holidays, you come back +and stir up a lot of trouble. What brought you, anyhow?" + +"Measles." + +She snatched up her ball gown. + +"Very well," she said. "I'll see that you're quarantined, Miss Barbara, +all right. And If you think you're going to slip downstairs tonight +after dinner and WORM yourself into this party, I'll show you." + +She flounced out, and shortly afterward mother took a minute from the +florist, and came upstairs. + +"I do hope you are not going to be troublesome, Barbara," she said. "You +are too young to understand, but I want everything to go well tonight, +and Leila ought not to be worried." + +"Can't I dance a little?" + +"You can sit on the stairs and watch." She looked fidgety. "I--I'll +send up a nice dinner, and you can put on your dark blue, with a fresh +collar, and--it ought to satisfy you, Barbara, that you are at home and +possibly have brought the measles with you, without making a lot of fuss. +When you come out----" + +"Oh, very well," I murmured, in a resigned tone. "I don't care enough +about it to want to dance with a lot of souses anyhow." + +"Barbara!" said mother. + +"I suppose you have some one on the string for her," I said, with the +abandon of my thwarted hopes. "Well, I hope she gets him. Because if not, +I daresay I shall be kept in the cradle for years to come." + +"You will come out when you reach a proper age," she said, "if your +impertinence does not kill me off before my time." + +Dear Diary, I am fond of my mother, and I felt repentant and stricken. + +So I became more agreeable, although feeling all the time that she does +not and never will understand my temperament. I said: + +"I don't care about society, and you know it, mother. If you'll keep +Leila out of this room, which isn't much but is my castle while here, +I'll probably go to bed early." + +"Barbara, sometimes I think you have no affection for your sister." + +I had agreed to honesty January first, so I replied. + +"I have, of course, mother. But I am fonder of her while at school than +at home. And I should be a better sister if not condemned to her old +things, including hats which do not suit my type." + +Mother moved over majestically to the door and shut it. Then she came +and stood over me. + +"I've come to the conclusion, Barbara," she said, "to appeal to your +better nature. Do you wish Leila to be married and happy?" + +"I've just said, mother----" + +"Because a very interesting thing is happening," said mother, trying to +look playful. "I--a chance any girl would jump at." + +So here I sit, Dear Diary, while there are sounds of revelry below, and +Sis jumps at her chance, which is the Honorable Page Beresford, who is +an Englishman visiting here because he has a weak heart and can't fight. +And father is away on business, and I am all alone. + +I have been looking for a rash, but no luck. + +Ah me, how the strains of the orchestra recall that magic night in the +theater when Adrian Egleston looked down into my eyes and although +ostensibly to an actress, said to my beating heart: "My Darling! My +Woman!" + + +3 A. M. I wonder if I can control my hands to write. + +In mother's room across the hall I can hear furious voices, and I know +that Leila is begging to have me sent to Switzerland. Let her beg. +Switzerland is not far from England, and in England---- + +Here I pause to reflect a moment. How is this thing possible? Can I love +members of the other sex? And if such is the case, how can I go on +with my life? Better far to end it now, than to perchance marry one, and +find the other still in my heart. The terrible thought has come to me +that I am fickle. + +Fickle or polygamous--which? + +Dear Diary, I have not been a good girl. My New Year's Resolutions have +gone to airy nothing. + +The way they went was this: I had settled down to a quiet evening, +spent with his beloved picture which I had clipped from a newspaper. +(Adrian's. I had not as yet met the other.) And, as I sat in my chamber, +I grew more and more desolate. I love life, although pessimistic at +times. And it seemed hard that I should be there, in exile, while my +sister, only 20 months older, was jumping at her chance below. + +At last I decided to try on one of Sis's frocks and see how I looked in +it. I thought, if it looked all right, I might hang over the stairs and +see what I then scornfully termed "His Nibs." Never again shall I so +call him. + +I got an evening gown from Sis's closet, and it fitted me quite well, +although tight at the waste for me, owing to basketball. It was also +too low, so that when I had got it all hooked about four inches of my +lingerie showed. As it had been hard as anything to hook, I was obliged +to take the scissors and cut off the said lingerie. The result was good, +although very decollete. I have no bones in my neck, or practically so. + +And now came my moment of temptation. How easy to put my hair up on +my head, and then, by the servant's staircase, make my way to the scene +below! + +I, however, considered that I looked pale, although mature. I looked +at least nineteen. So I went into Sis's room, which was full of evening +wraps but empty, and put on a touch of rouge. With that and my eyebrows +blackened, I would not have known myself, had I not been certain it was I +and no other. + +I then made my way down the back stairs. + +Ah me, Dear Diary, was that but a few hours ago? Is it but a short time +since Mr. Beresford was sitting at my feet, thinking me a debutante, +and staring soulfully into my very heart? Is it but a matter of minutes +since Leila found us there, and in a manner which revealed the true +feeling she has for me, ordered me to go upstairs and take off Maddie +Mackenzie's gown? + +(Yes, it was not Leila's after all. I had forgotten that Maddie had +taken her room. And except for pulling it somewhat at the waist, I am +sure I did not hurt the old thing.) + +I shall now go to bed and dream. Of which one I know not. My heart is +full. Romance has come at last into my dull and dreary life. Below, the +revelers have gone. The flowers hang their herbaceous heads. The music +has flowed away into the river of the past. I am alone with my Heart. + + +JANUARY 14TH. How complicated my life grows, Dear Diary! How full and +yet how incomplete! How everything begins and nothing ends! + +HE is in town. + +I discovered it at breakfast. I knew I was in for it, and I got down +early, counting on mother breakfasting in bed. I would have felt better +if father had been at home, because he understands somewhat the way they +keep me down. But he was away about an order for shells (not sea; war), +and I was to bare my chiding alone. I had eaten my fruit and cereal, and +was about to begin on sausage, when mother came in, having risen early +from her slumbers to take the decorations to the hospital. + +"So here you are, wretched child!" she said, giving me one of her coldest +looks. "Barbara, I wonder if you ever think whither you are tending." + +I ate a sausage. + +What, Dear Diary, was there to say? + +"To disobey!" she went on. "To force yourself on the attention of Mr. +Beresford, in a borrowed dress, with your eyelashes blackened and your +face painted----" + +"I should think, mother," I observed, "that if he wants to marry into +this family, and is not merely being dragged into it, that he ought to +see the worst at the start." She glared, without speaking. "You know," I +continued, "it would be a dreadful thing to have the ceremony performed +and everything too late to back out, and then have ME sprung on him. It +wouldn't be honest, would it?" + +"Barbara!" she said in a terrible tone. "First disobedience, and now +sarcasm. If your father was only here! I feel so alone and helpless." + +Her tone cut me to the heart. After all she was my own mother, or at +least maintained so, in spite of numerous questions engendered by our +lack of resemblance, moral as well as physical. But I did not offer +to embarrass her, as she was at that moment poring out her tea. I hid my +misery behind the morning paper, and there I beheld the fated vision. +Had I felt any doubt as to the state of my affections it was settled +then. My heart leaped in my bosom. My face suffused. My hands trembled +so that a piece of sausage slipped from my fork. His picture looked out +at me with that well remembered gaze from the depths of the morning +paper! + +Oh, Adrian, Adrian! + +Here in the same city as I, looking out over perchance the same +newspaper to perchance the same sun, wondering--ah, what was he +wondering? + +I was not even then, in that first rapture, foolish about him. I knew +that to him I was probably but a tender memory. I knew, too, that he was +but human and probably very conceited. On the other hand, I pride myself +on being a good judge of character, and he carried nobility in every +lineament. Even the obliteration of one eye by the printer could only +hamper but not destroy his dear face. + +"Barbara," mother said sharply. "I am speaking. Are you being sulky?" + +"Pardon me, mother," I said in my gentlest tones. "I was but dreaming." +And as she made no reply, but rang the bell viciously, I went on, +pursuing my line of thought. "Mother, were you ever in love?" + +"Love! What sort of love?" + +I sat up and stared at her. + +"Is there more than one sort?" I demanded. + +"There is a very silly, schoolgirl love," she said, eying me, "that +people outgrow and blush to look back on." + +"Do you?" + +"Do I what?" + +"Do you blush to look back on it?" + +Mother rose and made a sweeping gesture with her right arm. + +"I wash my hands of you!" she said. "You are impertinent and indelicate. +At your age I was an innocent child, not troubling with things that did +not concern me. As for love, I had never heard of it until I came out." + +"Life must have burst on you like an explosion," I observed. "I suppose +you thought that babies----" + +"Silence!" mother shrieked. And seeing that she persisted in ignoring +the real things of life while in my presence, I went out, clutching the +precious paper to my heart. + + +JANUARY 15TH. I am alone in my boudoir (which is really the old +schoolroom, and used now for a sewing room). + +My very soul is sick, oh Diary. How can I face the truth? How write it +out for my eyes to see? But I must. For something must be done! The play +is failing. + +The way I discovered it was this. Yesterday, being short of money, I +sold my amethyst pin to Jane, one of the housemaids, for two dollars, +throwing in a lace collar when she seemed doubtful, as I had a special +purpose for using funds. Had father been at home I could have touched +him, but mother is different. + +I then went out to buy a frame for his picture, which I had repaired by +drawing in the other eye, although lacking the fire and passionate look +of the original. At the shop I was compelled to show it, to buy a frame +to fit. The clerk was almost overpowered. + +"Do you know him?" she asked, in a low and throbbing tone. + +"Not intimately," I replied. + +"Don't you love the Play?" she said. "I'm crazy about it. I've been back +three times. Parts of it I know off by heart. He's very handsome. That +picture don't do him justice." + +I gave her a searching glance. Was it possible that, without any +acquaintance with him whatever, she had fallen in love with him? It was +indeed. She showed it in every line of her silly face. + +I drew myself up haughtily. "I should think it would be very expensive, +going so often," I said, in a cool tone. + +"Not so very. You see, the play is a failure, and they give us girls +tickets to dress the house. Fill it up, you know. Half the girls in the +store are crazy about Mr. Egleston." + +My world shuddered about me. What--fail! That beautiful play, ending "My +darling, my woman"? It could not be. Fate would not be cruel. Was there +no appreciation of the best in art? Was it indeed true, as Miss Everett +has complained, although not in these exact words, that the Theater was +only supported now by chorus girls' legs, dancing about in utter abandon? + +With an expression of despair on my features, I left the store, carrying +the frame under my arm. + +One thing is certain. I must see the play again, and judge it with a +critical eye. IF IT IS WORTH SAVING, IT MUST BE SAVED. + + +JANUARY 16TH. Is it only a day since I saw you, Dear Diary? Can so much +have happened in the single lapse of a few hours? I look in my mirror, +and I look much as before, only with perhaps a touch of pallor. Who +would not be pale? + +I have seen HIM again, and there is no longer any doubt in my heart. +Page Beresford is attractive, and if it were not for circumstances as +they are I would not answer for the consequences. But things ARE as they +are. There is no changing that. And I have read my own heart. + +I am not fickle. On the contrary, I am true as steal. + +I have put his picture under my mattress, and have given Jane my gold +cuff pins to say nothing when she makes my bed. And now, with the house +full of people downstairs acting in a flippant and noisy manner, I shall +record how it all happened. + +My financial condition was not improved this morning, father having not +returned. But I knew that I must see the play, as mentioned above, even +if it became necessary to borrow from Hannah. At last, seeing no other +way, I tried this, but failed. + +"What for?" she said, in a suspicious way. + +"I need it terribly, Hannah," I said. + +"You'd ought to get it from your mother, then, Miss Barbara. The last +time I gave you some you paid it back in postage stamps, and I haven't +written a letter since. They're all stuck together now, and a total +loss." + +"Very well," I said, frigidly. "But the next time you break +anything----" + +"How much do you want?" she asked. + +I took a quick look at her, and I saw at once that she had decided to +lend it to me and then run and tell mother, beginning, "I think you'd +ought to know, Mrs. Archibald----" + +"Nothing doing, Hannah," I said, in a most dignified manner. "But I +think you are an old clam, and I don't mind saying so." + +I was now thrown on my own resources, and very bitter. I seemed to have +no friends, at a time when I needed them most, when I was, as one may +say, "standing with reluctant feet, where the brook and river meet." + +Tonight I am no longer sick of life, as I was then. My throws of anguish +have departed. But I was then utterly reckless, and even considered +running away and going on the stage myself. + +I have long desired a career for myself, anyhow. I have a good mind, and +learn easily, and I am not a parasite. The idea of being such has always +been repugnant to me, while the idea of a few dollars at a time doled +out to one of independent mind is galling. And how is one to remember +what one has done with one's allowance, when it is mostly eaten up +by small loans, carfare, stamps, church collection, rose water and +glycerin, and other mild cosmetics, and the additional food necessary +when one is still growing? + +To resume, Dear Diary; having utterly failed with Hannah, and having +shortly after met Sis on the stairs, I said to her, in a sisterly tone, +intimate rather than fond: + +"I daresay you can lend me five dollars for a day or so." + +"I daresay I can. But I won't," was her cruel reply. + +"Oh, very well," I said briefly. But I could not refrain from making a +grimace at her back, and she saw me in a mirror. + +"When I think," she said heartlessly, "that that wretched school may be +closed for weeks, I could scream." + +"Well, scream!" I replied. "You'll scream harder if I've brought the +measles home on me. And if you're laid up, you can say good-bye to the +dishonorable. You've got him tied, maybe," I remarked, "but not thrown +as yet." + +(A remark I had learned from one of the girls, Trudie Mills, who comes +from Montana.) + +I was therefore compelled to dispose of my silver napkin ring from school. +Jane was bought up, she said, and I sold it to the cook for fifty cents +and half a mince pie although baked with our own materials. + +All my fate, therefore, hung on a paltry fifty cents. + +I was torn with anxiety. Was it enough? Could I, for fifty cents, steal +away from the sordid cares of life, and lose myself in obliviousness, +gazing only it his dear face, listening to his dear and softly modulated +voice, and wondering if, as his eyes swept the audience, they might +perchance light on me and brighten with a momentary gleam in their +unfathomable depths? Only this and nothing more, was my expectation. + +How different was the reality! + +Having ascertained that there was a matinee, I departed at an early hour +after luncheon, wearing my blue velvet with my fox furs. White gloves +and white topped shoes completed my outfit, and, my own chapeau showing +the effect of a rainstorm on the way home from church while away at +school, I took a chance on one of Sis's, a perfectly maddening one of +rose-colored velvet. As the pink made me look pale, I added a touch of +rouge. + +I looked fully out, and indeed almost second season. I have a way of +assuming a serious and mature manner, so that I am frequently taken +for older than I really am. Then, taking a few roses left from the +decorations, and thrusting them carelessly into the belt of my coat, +I went out the back door, as Sis was getting ready for some girls to play +bridge, in the front of the house. + +Had I felt any grief at deceiving my family, the bridge party would +have knocked them. For, as usual, I had not been asked, although playing +a good game myself, and having on more than one occasion won most of the +money in the Upper House at school. + +I was early at the theater. No one was there, and women were going +around taking covers off the seats. My fifty cents gave me a good seat, +from which I opined, alas, that the shop girl had been right and business +was rotten. But at last, after hours of waiting, the faint tuning of +musical instruments was heard. + +From that time I lived in a daze. I have never before felt so strange. +I have known and respected the other sex, and indeed once or twice been +kissed by it. But I had remained cold. My pulses had never fluttered. +I was always concerned only with the fear that others had overseen +and would perhaps tell. But now--I did not care who would see, if only +Adrian would put his arms about me. Divine shamelessness! Brave Rapture! +For if one who he could not possibly love, being so close to her in her +make-up, if one who was indeed employed to be made love to, could submit +in public to his embraces, why should not I, who would have died for +him? + +These were my thoughts as the play went on. The hours flew on joyous +feet. When Adrian came to the footlights and looking apparently square +at me, declaimed: "The world owes me a living. I will have it," I almost +swooned. His clothes were worn. He looked hungry and gaunt. But how +true that= + + ``"Rags are royal raiment, when worn for virtue's sake."= + +(I shall stop here and go down to the pantry. I could eat no dinner, +being filled with emotion. But I must keep strong if I am to help Adrian +in his trouble. The mince pie was excellent, but after all pastry does +not take the place of solid food.) + + +LATER: I shall now go on with my recital. As the theater was almost +empty, at the end of Act One I put on the pink hat and left it on as +though absent-minded. There was no one behind me. And, although during +act one I had thought that he perhaps felt my presence, he had not once +looked directly at me. + +But the hat captured his errant gaze, as one may say. And, after capture, +it remained on my face, so much so that I flushed and a woman sitting +near with a very plain girl in a skunk collar, observed: + +"Really, it is outrageous." + +Now came a moment which I thrill even to recollect. For Adrian plucked +a pink rose from a vase--he was in the millionaire's house, and was +starving in the midst of luxury--and held it to his lips. + +The rose, not the house, of course. Looking over it, he smiled down at +me. + + +LATER: It is midnight. I cannot sleep. Perchance he too, is lying awake. +I am sitting at the window in my robe de nuit. Below, mother and Sis +have just come in, and Smith has slammed the door of the car and gone +back to the garage. How puny is the life my family leads! Nothing but +eating and playing, with no higher thoughts. + +A man has just gone by. For a moment I thought I recognized the +footstep. But no, it was but the night watchman. + + +JANUARY 17TH. Father still away. No money, as mother absolutely refuses +on account of Maddie Mackenzie's gown, which she had to send away to be +repaired. + + +JANUARY 18TH. Father still away. The Hon. sent Sis a huge bunch of +orchids today. She refused me even one. She is always tight with flowers +and candy. + + +JANUARY 19TH. The paper says that Adrian's play is going to close +the end of next week. No business. How can I endure to know that he +is suffering, and that I cannot help, even to the extent of buying one +ticket? Matinee today, and no money. Father still away. + +I have tried to do a kind deed today, feeling that perhaps it would +soften mother's heart and she would advance my allowance. I offered to +manicure her nails for her, but she refused, saying that as Hannah had +done it for many years, she guessed she could manage now. + + +JANUARY 20TH. Today I did a desperate thing, dear Diary. + + +"The desperate is the wisest course." Butler. + + +It is Sunday. I went to church, and thought things over. What a +wonderful thing it would be if I could save the play! Why should I feel +that my sex is a handicap? + +The rector preached on "The Opportunities of Women." The Sermon gave +me courage to go on. When he said, "Women today step in where men are +afraid to tread, and bring success out of failure," I felt that it was +meant for me. + +Had no money for the plate, and mother attempted to smuggle a half dollar +to me. I refused, however, as if I cannot give my own money to the +heathen, I will give none. Mother turned pale, and the man with the +plate gave me a black look. What can he know of my reasons? + +Beresford lunched with us, and as I discouraged him entirely, he was +very attentive to Sis. Mother is planing a big wedding, and I found Sis +in the store room yesterday looking up mother's wedding veil. + +No old stuff for me. + +I guess Beresford is trying to forget that he kissed my hand the other +night, for he called me "Little Miss Barbara" today, meaning little in +the sense of young. I gave him a stern glance. + +"I am not any littler than the other night," I observed. + +"That was merely an affectionate diminutive," he said, looking +uncomfortable. + +"If you don't mind," I said coldly, "you might do as you have +heretofore--reserve your affectionate advances until we are alone." + +"Barbara!" mother said. And began quickly to talk about a Lady Something +or other we'd met on a train in Switzerland. Because--they can talk +until they are black in the face, dear Diary, but it is true we do not +know any of the British Nobility, except the aforementioned and the man +who comes once a year with flavoring extracts, who says he is the third +son of a baronet. + +Every one being out this afternoon, I suddenly had an inspiration, and +sent for Carter Brooks. I then put my hair up and put on my blue silk, +because while I do not believe in woman using her feminine charm when +talking business, I do believe that she should look her best under any +and all circumstances. + +He was rather surprised not to find Sis in, as I had used her name in +telephoning. + +"I did it," I explained, "because I knew that you felt no interest in +me, and I had to see you." + +He looked at me, and said: + +"I'm rather flabbergasted, Bab. I--what ought I to say, anyhow?" + +He came very close, dear Diary, and suddenly I saw in his eyes the +horrible truth. He thought me in love with him, and sending for him while +the family was out. + +Words cannot paint my agony of soul. I stepped back, but he seized my +hand, in a caressing gesture. + +"Bab!" he said. "Dear little Bab!" + +Had my affections not been otherwise engaged, I should have thrilled at +his accents. But, although handsome and of good family, though poor, +I could not see it that way. + +So I drew my hand away, and retreated behind a sofa. + +"We must have an understanding, Carter" I Said. "I have sent for you, +but not for the reason you seem to think. I am in desperate trouble." + +He looked dumfounded. + +"Trouble!" he said. "You! Why, little Bab" + +"If you don't mind," I put in, rather pettishly, because of not being +little, "I wish you would treat me like almost a debutante, if not +entirely. I am not a child in arms." + +"You are sweet enough to be, if the arms might be mine." + +I have puzzled over this, since, dear Diary. Because there must be +some reason why men fall in love with me. I am not ugly, but I am not +beautiful, my nose being too short. And as for clothes, I get none +except Leila's old things. But Jane Raleigh says there are women like +that. She has a cousin who has had four husbands and is beginning on +a fifth, although not pretty and very slovenly, but with a mass of red +hair. + +Are all men to be my lovers? + +"Carter," I said earnestly, "I must tell you now that I do not care for +you--in that way." + +"What made you send for me, then?" + +"Good gracious!" I exclaimed, losing my temper somewhat. "I can send for +the ice man without his thinking I'm crazy about him, can't I?" + +"Thanks." + +"The truth is," I said, sitting down and motioning him to a seat in my +maturest manner, "I--I want some money. There are many things, but the +money comes first." + +He just sat and looked at me with his mouth open. + +"Well," he said at last, "of course--I suppose you know you've come to a +Bank that's gone into the hands of a receiver. But aside from that, +Bab, it's a pretty mean trick to send for me and let me think--well, no +matter about that. How much do you want?" + +"I can pay it back as soon as father comes home," I said, to relieve his +mind. It is against my principals to borrow money, especially from one who +has little or none. But since I was doing it, I felt I might as well ask +for a lot. + +"Could you let me have ten dollars?" I said, in a faint tone. + +He drew a long breath. + +"Well, I guess yes," he observed. "I thought you were going to touch me +for a hundred, anyhow. I--I suppose you wouldn't give me a kiss and call +it square." + +I considered. Because after all, a kiss is not much, and ten dollars is +a good deal. But at last my better nature won out. + +"Certainly not," I said coldly. "And if there is a string to it I do not +want it." + +So he apologized, and came and sat beside me, without being a nuisance, +and asked me what my other troubles were. + +"Carter" I said, in a grave voice, "I know that you believe me young +and incapable of affection. But you are wrong. I am of a most loving +disposition." + +"Now see here, Bab," he said. "Be fair. If I am not to hold your hand, +or--or be what you call a nuisance, don't talk like this. I am but +human," he said, "and there is something about you lately that--well, go +on with your story. Only, as I say, don't try me to far." + +"It's like this," I explained. "Girls think they are cold and distant, +and indeed, frequently are." + +"Frequently!" + +"Until they meet the right one. Then they learn that their hearts are, +as you say, but human." + +"Bab," he said, suddenly turning and facing me, "an awful thought has +come to me. You are in love--and not with me!" + +"I am in love, and not with you," I said in tragic tones. + +I had not thought he would feel it deeply--because of having been +interested in Leila since they went out in their perambulators together. +But I could see it was a shock to him. He got up and stood looking in +the fire, and his shoulders shook with grief. + +"So I have lost you," he said in a smothered voice. And then--"Who is +the sneaking scoundrel?" + +I forgave him this, because of his being upset, and in a rapt attitude I +told him the whole story. He listened, as one in a daze. + +"But I gather," he said, when at last the recital was over, "that you +have never met the--met him." + +"Not in the ordinary use of the word," I remarked. "But then it is +not an ordinary situation. We have met and we have not. Our eyes have +spoken, if not our vocal chords." Seeing his eyes on me I added, "if +you do not believe that soul can cry unto soul, Carter, I shall go no +further." + +"Oh!" he exclaimed. "There is more, is there? I trust it is not +painful, because I have stood as much as I can now without breaking +down." + +"Nothing of which I am ashamed," I said, rising to my full height. "I +have come to you for help, Carter. That play must not fail!" + +We faced each other over those vital words--faced, and found no +solution. + +"Is it a good play?" he asked, at last. + +"It is a beautiful play. Oh, Carter, when at the end he takes his +sweetheart in his arms--the leading lady, and not at all attractive. Jane +Raleigh says that the star generally hates his leading lady--there is not +a dry eye in the house." + +"Must be a jolly little thing. Well, of course I'm no theatrical +manager, but if it's any good there's only one way to save it. +Advertise. I didn't know the piece was in town, which shows that the +publicity has been rotten." + +He began to walk the floor. I don't think I have mentioned it, but that +is Carter's business. Not walking the floor. Advertising. Father says he +is quite good, although only beginning. + +"Tell me about it," he said. + +So I told him that Adrian was a mill worker, and the villain makes him +lose his position, by means of forgery. And Adrian goes to jail, and +comes out, and no one will give him work. So he prepares to blow up +a millionaire's house, and his sweetheart is in it. He has been to the +millionaire for work and been refused and thrown out, saying, just before +the butler and three footmen push him through a window, in dramatic +tones, "The world owes me a living and I will have it." + +"Socialism!" said Carter. "Hard stuff to handle for the two dollar +seats. The world owes him a living. Humph! Still, that's a good line to +work on. Look here, Bab, give me a little time on this, eh what? I may +be able to think of a trick or two. But mind, not a word to any one." + +He started out, but he came back. + +"Look here," he said. "Where do we come in on this anyhow? Suppose I do +think of something--what then? How are we to know that your beloved and +his manager will thank us for butting in, or do what we suggest?" + +Again I drew myself to my full height. + +"I am a person of iron will when my mind is made up," I said. "You think +of something, Carter, and I'll see that it is done." + +He gazed at me in a rapt manner. + +"Dammed if I don't believe you," he said. + +It is now late at night. Beresford has gone. The house is still. I take +the dear picture out from under my mattress and look at it. + +Oh Adrien, my Thespian, my Love. + + +JANUARY 21ST. I have a bad cold, Dear Diary, and feel rotten. But only +my physical condition is such. I am happy beyond words. This morning, +while mother and Sis were out I called up the theater and inquired the +price of a box. The man asked me to hold the line, and then came back +and said it would be ten dollars. I told him to reserve it for Miss +Putnam--my middle name. + +I am both terrified and happy, dear Diary, as I lie here in bed with a +hot water bottle at my feet. I have helped the play by buying a box, +and tonight I shall sit in it alone, and he will perceive me there, and +consider that I must be at least twenty, or I would not be there at +the theater alone. Hannah has just come in and offered to lend me three +dollars. I refused haughtily, but at last rang for her and took two. I +might as well have a taxi tonight. + + +1 A. M. The family was there! I might have known it. Never do I have +any luck. I am a broken thing, crushed to earth. But "Truth crushed to +earth will rise again."--Whittier? + +I had my dinner in bed, on account of my cold, and was let severely alone +by the family. At seven I rose and with palpitating fingers dressed +myself in my best evening frock, which is a pale yellow. I put my hair +up, and was just finished, when mother knocked. It was terrible. + +I had to duck back into bed and crush everything. But she only looked in +and said to try and behave for the next three hours, and went away. + +At a quarter to eight I left the house in a clandestine manner by means +of the cellar and the area steps, and on the pavement drew a long breath. +I was free, and I had twelve dollars. + +Act One went well, and no disturbance. Although Adrian started when he +saw me. The yellow looked very well. + +I had expected to sit back, sheltered by the curtains, and only visible +from the stage. I have often read of this method. But there were no +curtains. I therefore sat, turning a stoney profile to the audience, and +ignoring it, as though it were not present, trusting to luck that no +one I knew was there. + +He saw me. More than that, he hardly took his eyes from the box wherein +I sat. I am sure to that he had mentioned me to the company, for one and +all they stared at me until I think they will know me the next time they +see me. + +I still think I would not have been recognized by the family had I not, +in a very quiet scene, commenced to sneeze. I did this several times, and +a lot of people looked annoyed, as though I sneezed because I liked +to sneeze. And I looked back at them defiantly, and in so doing, +encountered the gaze of my maternal parent. + +Oh, Dear Diary, that I could have died at that moment, and thus, when +stretched out a pathetic figure, with tuber roses and other flowers, have +compelled their pity. But alas, no. I sneezed again! + +Mother was wedged in, and I saw that my only hope was flight. I had not +had more than between three and four dollars worth of the evening, but +I glanced again and Sis was boring holes into me with her eyes. Only +Beresford knew nothing, and was trying to hold Sis's hand under her +opera cloak. Any fool could tell that. + +But, as I was about to rise and stand poised, as one may say, for +departure, I caught Adrian's eyes, with a gleam in their deep depths. He +was, at the moment, toying with the bowl of roses. He took one out, +and while the leading lady was talking, he edged his way toward my box. +There, standing very close, apparently by accident, he dropped the rose +into my lap. + +Oh Diary! Diary! + +I picked it up, and holding it close to me, I flew. + +I am now in bed and rather chilly. Mother banged at the door some time +ago, and at last went away, muttering. + +I am afraid she is going to be pettish. + + +JANUARY 22ND. Father came home this morning, and things are looking up. +Mother of course tackled him first thing, and when he came upstairs I +expected an awful time. But my father is a real person, so he only sat +down on the bed, and said: + +"Well, chicken, so you're at it again!" + +I had to smile, although my chin shook. + +"You'd better turn me out and forget me," I said. "I was born for +trouble. My advice to the family is to get out from under. That's all." + +"Oh, I don't know," he said. "It's pretty convenient to have a family +to drop on when the slump comes." He thumped himself on the chest. +"A hundred and eighty pounds," he observed, "just intended for little +daughters to fall back on when other things fail." + +"Father," I inquired, putting my hand in his, because I had been bearing +my burdens alone, and my strength was failing: "do you believe in Love?" + +"DO I!" + +"But I mean, not the ordinary attachment between two married people. I +mean Love--the real thing." + +"I see! Why, of course I do." + +"Did you ever read Pope, father?" + +"Pope? Why I--probably, chicken. Why?" + +"Then you know what he says: 'Curse on all laws but those which Love has +made.'" + +"Look here," he said, suddenly laying a hand on my brow. "I believe you +are feverish." + +"Not feverish, but in trouble," I explained. And so I told him the +story, not saying much of my deep passion for Adrian, but merely that +I had formed an attachment for him which would persist during life. +Although I had never yet exchanged a word with him. + +Father listened and said it was indeed a sad story, and that he knew my +deep nature, and that I would be true to the end. But he refused to +give me any money, except enough to pay back Hannah and Carter Brooks, +saying: + +"Your mother does not wish you to go to the theater again, and who are +we to go against her wishes? And anyhow, maybe if you met this fellow +and talked to him, you would find him a disappointment. Many a +pretty girl I have seen in my time, who didn't pan out according to +specifications when I finally met her." + +At this revelation of my beloved father's true self, I was almost +stunned. It is evident that I do not inherit my being true as steel from +him. Nor from my mother, who is like steel in hardness but not in being +true to anything but social position. + +As I record this awful day, dear Dairy, there comes again into my mind +the thought that I DO NOT BELONG HERE. I am not like them. I do not even +resemble them in features. And, if I belonged to them, would they +not treat me with more consideration and less discipline? Who, in the +family, has my nose? + +It is all well enough for Hannah to observe that I was a pretty baby +with fat cheeks. May not Hannah herself, for some hidden reason, have +brought me here, taking away the real I to perhaps languish unseen and +"waste my sweetness on the desert air"? But that way lies madness. +Life must be made the best of as it is, and not as it might be or indeed +ought to be. + +Father promised before he left that I was not to be scolded, as I felt +far from well, and was drinking water about every minute. + +"I just want to lie here and think about things," I said, when he was +going. "I seem to have so many thoughts. And father----" + +"Yes, chicken." + +"If I need any help to carry out a plan I have, will you give it to me, +or will I have to go to total strangers?" + +"Good gracious, Bab!" he exclaimed. "Come to me, of course." + +"And you'll do what you're told?" + +He looked out into the hall to see if mother was near. Then, dear Dairy, +he turned to me and said: + +"I always have, Bab. I guess I'll run true to form." + + +JANUARY 23RD. Much better today. Out and around. Family (mother and +Sis) very dignified and nothing much to say. Evidently have promised +father to restrain themselves. Father rushed and not coming home to +dinner. + +Beresford on edge of proposing. Sis very jumpy. + + +LATER: Jane Raleigh is home for her cousin's wedding! Is coming over. We +shall take a walk, as I have much to tell her. + + +6 P. M. What an afternoon! How shall I write it? This is a Milestone in +my Life. + +I have met him at last. Nay, more. I have been in his dressing room, +conversing as though accustomed to such things all my life. I have +concealed under the mattress a real photograph of him, beneath which he +has written, "Yours always, Adrian Egleston." + +I am writing in bed, as the room is chilly--or I am--and by putting out +my hand I can touch his pictured likeness. + +Jane came around for me this afternoon, and mother consented to a walk. +I did not have a chance to take Sis's pink hat, as she keeps her door +locked now when not in her room. Which is ridiculous, because I am not +her type, and her things do not suit me very well anyhow. And I have +never borrowed anything but gloves and handkerchiefs, except Maddie's +dress and the hat. + +She had, however, not locked her bathroom, and finding a bunch of +violets in the washbowl I put them on. It does not hurt violets to wear +them, and anyhow I knew Carter Brooks had sent them and she ought to +wear only Beresford's flowers if she means to marry him. + +Jane at once remarked that I looked changed. + +"Naturally," I said, in a blase' manner. + +"If I didn't know you, Bab," she observed, "I would say that you are +rouged." + +I became very stiff and distant at that. For Jane, although my best +friend, had no right to be suspicious of me. + +"How do I look changed?" I demanded. + +"I don't know. You--Bab, I believe you are up to some mischief!" + +"Mischief?" + +"You don't need to pretend to me," she went on, looking into my very +soul. "I have eyes. You're not decked out this way for ME." + +I had meant to tell her nothing, but spying just then a man ahead who +walked like Adrian, I was startled. I clutched her arm and closed my +eyes. + +"Bab!" she said. + +The man turned, and I saw it was not he. I breathed again. But Jane was +watching me, and I spoke out of an overflowing heart. + +"For a moment I thought--Jane, I have met THE ONE at last." + +"Barbara!" she said, and stopped dead. "Is it any one I know?" + +"He is an actor." + +"Ye gods!" said Jane, in a tense voice. "What a tragedy!" + +"Tragedy indeed," I was compelled to admit. "Jane, my heart is breaking. +I am not allowed to see him. It is all off, forever." + +"Darling!" said Jane. "You are trembling all over. Hold on to me. Do +they disapprove?" + +"I am never to see him again. Never." + +The bitterness of it all overcame me. My eyes suffused with tears. + +But I told her, in broken accents, of my determination to stick to him, +no matter what. "I might never be Mrs. Adrian Egleston, but----" + +"Adrian Egleston!" she cried, in amazement. "Why Barbara, you lucky +thing!" + +So, finding her fuller of sympathy than usual, I violated my vow of +silence and told her all. + +And, to prove the truth of what I said, I showed her the sachet over my +heart containing his rose. + +"It's perfectly wonderful," Jane said, in an awed tone. "You beat +anything I've ever known for adventures! You are the type men like, +for one thing. But there is one thing I could not stand, in your +place--having to know that he is making love to the heroine every +evening and twice on Wednesdays and--Bab, this is Wednesday!" + +I glanced at my wrist watch. It was but two o'clock. Instantly, dear +Dairy, I became conscious of a dual going on within me, between love and +duty. Should I do as instructed and see him no more, thus crushing +my inclination under the iron heel of resolution? Or should I cast my +parents to the winds, and go? + +Which? + +At last I decided to leave it to Jane. I observed: "I'm forbidden to try +to see him. But I daresay, if you bought some theater tickets and did not +say what the play was, and we went and it happened to be his, it would +not be my fault, would it?" + +I cannot recall her reply, or much more, except that I waited in a +pharmacy, and Jane went out, and came back and took me by the arm. + +"We're going to the matinee, Bab," she said. "I'll not tell you which +one, because it's to be a surprise." She squeezed my arm. "First row," +she whispered. + +I shall draw a veil over my feelings. Jane bought some chocolates to +take along, but I could eat none. I was thirsty, but not hungry. And my +cold was pretty bad, to. + +So we went in, and the curtain went up. When Adrian saw me, in the front +row, he smiled although in the midst of a serious speech about the world +owing him a living. And Jane was terribly excited. + +"Isn't he the handsomest thing!" she said. "And oh, Bab, I can see that +he adores you. He is acting for you. All the rest of the people mean +nothing to him. He sees but you." + +Well, I had not told her that we had not yet met, and she said I could +do nothing less than send him a note. + +"You ought to tell him that you are true, in spite of everything," she +said. + +If I had not deceived Jane things would be better. But she was set on my +sending the note. So at last I wrote one on my visiting card, holding +it so she could not read it. Jane is my best friend and I am devoted to +her, but she has no scruples about reading what is not meant for her. I +said: + +"Dear Mr. Egleston: I think the play is perfectly wonderful. And you +are perfectly splendid in it. It is perfectly terrible that it is going +to stop. + +"(Signed) The girl of the rose." + + +I know that this seems bold. But I did not feel bold, dear Dairy. It was +such a letter as any one might read, and contained nothing compromising. +Still, I daresay I should not have written it. But "out of the fulness of +the heart the mouth speaketh." + +I was shaking so much that I could not give it to the usher. But Jane +did. However, I had sealed it up in an envelope. + +Now comes the real surprise, dear Dairy. For the usher came down and +said Mr. Egleston hoped I would go back and see him after the act was +over. I think a pallor must have come over me, and Jane said: + +"Bab! Do you dare?" + +I said yes, I dared, but that I would like a glass of water. I seemed to +be thirsty all the time. So she got it, and I recovered my savoir fair, +and stopped shaking. + +I suppose Jane expected to go along, but I refrained from asking her. +She then said: + +"Try to remember everything he says, Bab. I am just crazy about it." + +Ah, dear Dairy, how can I write how I felt when being led to him. The +entire scene is engraved on my soul. I, with my very heart in my eyes, +in spite of my efforts to seem cool and collected. He, in front of his +mirror, drawing in the lines of starvation around his mouth for the next +scene, while on his poor feet a valet put the raged shoes of Act II! + +He rose when I entered, and took me by the hand. + +"Well!" he said. "At last!" + +He did not seem to mind the valet, whom he treated like a chair or +table. And he held my hand and looked deep into my eyes. + +Ah, dear Dairy, Men may come and Men may go in my life, but never again +will I know such ecstasy as at that moment. + +"Sit down," he said. "Little Lady of the rose--but it's violets today, +isn't it? And so you like the play?" + +I was by that time somewhat calmer, but glad to sit down, owing to my +knees feeling queer. + +"I think it is magnificent," I said. + +"I wish there were more like you," he observed. "Just a moment, I have +to make a change here. No need to go out. There's a screen for that very +purpose." + +He went behind the screen, and the man handed him a raged shirt over the +top of it, while I sat in a chair and dreamed. What I reflected, would +the School say if it but knew! I felt no remorse. I was there, and +beyond the screen, changing into the garments of penury, was the only +member of the other sex I had ever felt I could truly care for. + +Dear Dairy, I am tired and my head aches. I cannot write it all. He was +perfectly respectful, and only his eyes showed his true feelings. +The woman who is the adventuress in the play came to the door, but he +motioned her away with a wave of the hand. And at last it was over, and +he was asking me to come again soon, and if I would care to have one of +his pictures. + +I am very sleepy tonight, but I cannot close this record of a +w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l d-a-y---- + + +JANUARY 24TH. Cold worse. + +Not hearing from Carter Brooks I telephoned him just now. He is sore +about Beresford and said he would not come to the house. So I have asked +him to meet me in the park, and said that there were only two more days, +this being Thursday. + + +LATER: I have seen Carter, and he has a fine plan. If only father will +do it. + +He says the theme is that the world owes Adrian a living, and that the +way to do is to put that strongly before the people. + +"Suppose," he said, "that this fellow would go to some big factory, and +demand work. Not ask for it. Demand it. He could pretend to be starving +and say: 'The world owes me a living, and I intend to have it.'" + +"But suppose they were sorry for him and gave it to him?" I observed. + +"Tut, child," he said. "That would have to be all fixed up first. It +ought to be arranged that he not only be refused, but what's more, that +he'll be thrown out. He'll have to cut up a lot, d'you see, so they'll +throw him out. And we'll have Reporters there, so the story can get +around. You get it, don't you? Your friend, in order to prove that the +idea of the play is right, goes out for a job, and proves that he cannot +demand labor and get it." He stopped and spoke with excitement: "Is he a +real sport? Would he stand being arrested? Because that would cinch it." + +But here I drew a line. I would not subject him to such humiliation. I +would not have him arrested. And at last Carter gave in. + +"But you get the idea," he said. "There'll be the deuce of a row, and +it's good for a half column on the first page of the evening papers. +Result, a jam that night at the performance, and a new lease of life +for the Play. Egleston comes on, bruised and battered, and perhaps +with a limp. The Labor Unions take up the matter--it's a knock out. I'd +charge a thousand dollars for that idea if I were selling it." + +"Bruised!" I exclaimed. "Really bruised or painted on?" + +He glared at me impatiently. + +"Now see here, Bab," he said. "I'm doing this for you. You've got +to play up. And if your young man won't stand a bang in the eye, for +instance, to earn his bread and butter, he's not worth saving." + +"Who are you going to get to--to throw him out?" I asked, in a faltering +tone. + +He stopped and stared at me. + +"I like that!" he said. "It's not my play that's failing, is it? Go and +tell him the scheme, and then let his manager work it out. And tell him +who I am, and that I have a lot of ideas, but this is the only one I'm +giving away." + +We had arrived at the house by that time and I invited him to come in. +But he only glanced bitterly at the windows and observed that they had +taken in the mat with 'Welcome' on it, as far as he was concerned. And +went away. + +Although we have never had a mat with 'Welcome' on it. + +Dear Diary, I wonder if father would do it? He is gentle and +kindhearted, and it would be painful to him. But to who else can I +turn in my extremity? + +I have but one hope. My father is like me. He can be coaxed and if +kindly treated will do anything. But if approached in the wrong way, or +asked to do something against his principals, he becomes a roaring lion. + +He would never be bully-ed into giving a man work, even so touching a +personality as Adrian's. + + +LATER: I meant to ask father tonight, but he has just heard of Beresford +and is in a terrible temper. He says Sis can't marry him, because he +is sure there are plenty of things he could be doing in England, if not +actually fighting. + +"He could probably run a bus, and release some one who can fight," he +shouted. "Or he could at least do an honest day's work with his hands. +Don't let me see him, that's all." + +"Do I understand that you forbid him the house?" Leila asked, in a cold +fury. + +"Just keep him out of my sight," father snapped. "I suppose I can't keep +him from swilling tea while I am away doing my part to help the Allies." + +"Oh, rot!" said Sis, in a scornful manner. "While you help your bank +account, you mean. I don't object to that, father, but for heaven's sake +don't put it on altruistic grounds." + +She went upstairs then and banged her door, and mother merely set her +lips and said nothing. But when Beresford called, later, Tanney had to +tell him the family was out. + +Were it not for our affections, and the necessity for getting married, so +there would be an increase in the population, how happy we could all be! + + +LATER: I have seen father. + +It was a painful evening, with Sis shut away in her room, and father +cutting the ends off cigars in a viscious manner. Mother was NON EST, and +had I not had my memories, it would have been a sickning time. + +I sat very still and waited until father softened, which he usually does, +like ice cream, all at once and all over. I sat perfectly still in a +large chair, and except for an occasional sneeze, was quiet. + +Only once did my parent address me in an hour, when he said: + +"What the devil's making you sneeze so?" + +"My nose, I think, sir," I said meekly. + +"Humph!" he said. "It's rather a small nose to be making such a racket." + +I was cut to the heart, Dear Diary. One of my dearest dreams has always +been a delicate nose, slightly arched and long enough to be truly +aristocratic. Not really acqualine but on the verge. I HATE my little +nose--hate it--hate it--HATE IT. + +"Father" I said, rising and on the point of tears. "How can you! To +taunt me with what is not my own fault, but partly hereditary and partly +carelessness. For if you had pinched it in infancy it would have been a +good nose, and not a pug. And----" + +"Good gracious!" he exclaimed. "Why, Bab, I never meant to insult your +nose. As a matter of fact, it's a good nose. It's exactly the sort of +nose you ought to have. Why, what in the world would YOU do with a Roman +nose?" + +I have not been feeling very well, dear Diary, and so I suddenly began to +weep. + +"Why, chicken!" said my father. And made me sit down on his knee. "Don't +tell me that my bit of sunshine is behind a cloud!" + +"Behind a nose," I said, feebly. + +So he said he liked my nose, even although somewhat swollen, and he kissed +it, and told me I was a little fool, and at last I saw he was about +ready to be tackled. So I observed: + +"Father, will you do me a favor?" + +"Sure," he said. "How much do you need? Business is pretty good now, +and I've about landed the new order for shells for the English War +Department. I--suppose we make it fifty! Although, we'd better keep it a +secret between the two of us." + +I drew myself up, although tempted. But what was fifty dollars to doing +something for Adrian? A mere bagatelle. + +"Father," I said, "do you know Miss Everett, my English teacher?" + +He remembered the name. + +"Would you be willing to do her a great favor?" I demanded intensely. + +"What sort of a favor?" + +"Her cousin has written a play. She is very fond of her cousin, and +anxious to have him succeed. And it is a lovely play." + +He held me off and stared at me. + +"So THAT is what you were doing in that box alone!" he exclaimed. "You +incomprehensible child! Why didn't you tell your mother?" + +"Mother does not always understand," I said, in a low voice. "I thought, +by buying a box, I would do my part to help Miss Everett's cousin's play +succeed. And as a result I was dragged home, and shamefully treated in the +most mortifying manner. But I am accustomed to brutality." + +"Oh, come now," he said. "I wouldn't go as far as that, chicken. Well, I +won't finance the play, but short of that I'll do what I can." + +However he was not so agreeable when I told him Carter Brooks' plan. He +delivered a firm no. + +"Although," he said, "somebody ought to do it, and show the fallacy of +the play. In the first place, the world doesn't owe the fellow a +living, unless he will hustle around and make it. In the second place +an employer has a right to turn away a man he doesn't want. No one can +force a business to employ Labor." + +"Well," I said, "as long as Labor talks and makes a lot of noise, and +Capitol is too dignified to say anything, most people are going to side +with Labor." + +He gazed at me. + +"Right!" he said. "You've put your finger on it, in true feminine +fashion." + +"Then why won't you throw out this man when he comes to you for work? He +intends to force you to employ him." + +"Oh, he does, does he?" said father, in a fierce voice. "Well, let him +come. I can stand up for my principals, too. I'll throw him out, all +right." + +Dear Diary, the battle is over and I have won. I am very happy. How true +it is that strategy will do more than violence! + +We have arranged it all. Adrian is to go to the mill, dressed like a +decayed gentleman, and father will refuse to give him work. I have said +nothing about violence, leaving that to arrange itself. + +I must see Adrian and his manager. Carter has promised to tell some +reporters that there may be a story at the mill on Saturday morning. I +am to excited to sleep. + +Feel horrid. Forbidden to go out this morning. + + +JANUARY 25TH. Beresford was here to lunch and he and mother and Sis had +a long talk. He says he has kept it a secret because he did not want his +business known. But he is here to place a shell order for the English War +Department. + +"Well," Leila said, "I can hardly wait to tell father and see him curl +up." + +"No, no," said Beresford, hastily. "Really you must allow me. I must +inform him myself. I am sure you can see why. This is a thing for men to +settle. Besides, it is a delicate matter. Mr. Archibald is trying to get +the order, and our New York office, if I am willing, is ready to place +it with him." + +"Well!" said Leila, in a thunderstruck tone. "If you British don't beat +anything for keeping your own Counsel!" + +I could see that he had her hand under the table. It was sickening. + +Jane came to see me after lunch. The wedding was that night, and I had +to sit through silver vegetable dishes, and after-dinner coffee sets and +plates and a grand piano and a set of gold vases and a cabushion sapphire +and the bridesmaid's clothes and the wedding supper and heaven knows +what. But at last she said: + +"You dear thing--how weary and wan you look!" + +I closed my eyes. + +"But you don't intend to give him up, do you?" + +"Look at me!" I said, in imperious tones. "Do I look like one who would +give him up, because of family objections?" + +"How brave you are!" she observed. "Bab, I am green with envy. When I +think of the way he looked at you, and the tones of his voice when he +made love to that--that creature, I am positively SHAKEN." + +We sat in somber silence. Then she said: + +"I daresay he detests the heroine, doesn't he?" + +"He tolerates her," I said, with a shrug. + +More silence. I rang for Hannah to bring some ice water. We were in my +boudoir. + +"I saw him yesterday," said Jane, when Hannah had gone. + +"Jane!" + +"In the park. He was with the woman that plays the Adventuress. Ugly old +thing." + +I drew a long breath of relief. For I knew that the adventuress was at +least thirty and perhaps more. Besides being both wicked and cruel, and +not at all feminine. + +Hannah brought the ice-water and then came in the most maddening way and +put her hand on my forehead. + +"I've done nothing but bring you ice-water for two days," she said. "Your +head's hot. I think you need a mustard foot bath and to go to bed." + +"Hannah," Jane said, in her loftiest fashion, "Miss Barbara is worried, +not ill. And please close the door when you go out." + +Which was her way of telling Hannah to go. Hannah glared at her. + +"If you take my advice, Miss Jane," she said. "You'll keep away from +Miss Barbara." + +And she went out, slamming the door. + +"Well!" gasped Jane. "Such impertinence. Old servant or not, she ought +to have her mouth slapped." + +Well, I told Jane the plan and she was perfectly crazy about it. I had +a headache, but she helped me into my street things, and got Sis's rose +hat for me while Sis was at the telephone. Then we went out. + +First we telephoned Carter Brooks, and he said tomorrow morning would +do, and he'd give a couple of reporters the word to hang around father's +office at the mill. He said to have Adrian there at ten o'clock. + +"Are you sure your father will do it?" he asked. "We don't want a +fliver, you know." + +"He's making a principal of it," I said. "When he makes a principal of a +thing, he does it." + +"Good for father!" Carter said. "Tell him not to be to gentle. And tell +your actor-friend to make a lot of fuss. The more the better. I'll see +the policeman at the mill, and he'll probably take him up. But we'll get +him out for the matinee. And watch the evening papers." + +It was then that a terrible thought struck me. What if Adrian considered +it beneath his profession to advertize, even if indirectly? What if he +preferred the failure of Miss Everett's cousin's play to a bruise on the +eye? What, in short, if he refused? + +Dear Dairy, I was stupified. I knew not which way to turn. For men are +not like women, who are dependable and anxious to get along, and will +sacrifice anything for success. No, men are likely to turn on the ones +they love best, if the smallest things do not suit them, such as cold +soup, or sleeves too long from the shirt-maker, or plans made which they +have not been consulted about beforehand. + +"Darling!" said Jane, as I turned away, "you look STRICKEN!" + +"My head aches," I said, with a weary gesture toward my forehead. It did +ache, for that matter. It is aching now, dear Dairy. + +However, I had begun my task and must go through with it. Abandoning +Jane at a corner, in spite of her calling me cruel and even sneaking, I +went to Adrian's hotel, which I had learned of during my seance in +his room while he was changing his garments behind a screen, as it was +marked on a dressing case. + +It was then five o'clock. + +How nervous I felt as I sent up my name to his chamber. Oh, Dear Diary, +to think that it was but five hours ago that I sat and waited, while +people who guessed not the inner trepidation of my heart past and +repast, and glanced at me and at Leila's pink hat above. + +At last he came. My heart beat thunderously, as he approached, striding +along in that familiar walk, swinging his strong and tender arms. And I! +I beheld him coming and could think of not a word to say. + +"Well!" he said, pausing in front of me. "I knew I was going to be lucky +today. Friday is my best day." + +"I was born on Friday," I said. I could think of nothing else. + +"Didn't I say it was my lucky day? But you mustn't sit here. What do you +say to a cup of tea in the restaurant?" + +How grown up and like a debutante I felt, Dear Diary, going to have +tea as if I had it every day at school, with a handsome actor across! +Although somewhat uneasy also, owing to the possibility of the family +coming in. But it did not and I had a truly happy hour, not at all +spoiled by looking out the window and seeing Jane going by, with her +eyes popping out, and walking very slowly so I would invite her to come +in. + +WHICH I DID NOT. + +Dear Diary, HE WILL DO IT. At first he did not understand, and looked +astounded. But when I told him of Carter being in the advertizing +business, and father owning a large mill, and that there would be +reporters and so on, he became thoughtful. + +"It's really incredibly clever," he said. "And if it's pulled off right +it ought to be a stampede. But I'd like to see Mr. Brooks. We can't have +it fail, you know." He leaned over the table. "It's straight goods, is +it, Miss er--Barbara? There's nothing phoney about it?" + +"Phoney!" I said, drawing back. "Certainly not." + +He kept on leaning over the table. + +"I wonder," he said, "what makes you so interested in the play?" + +Oh, Diary, Diary! + +And just then I looked up, and the adventuress was staring in the door +at me with the meanest look on her face. + +I draw a veil over the remainder of our happy hour. Suffice it to say +that he considers me exactly the type he finds most attractive, and that +he does not consider my nose too short. We had a long dispute about this. +He thinks I am wrong and says I am not an aquiline type. He says I am +romantic and of a loving disposition. Also somewhat reckless, and he +gave me good advice about doing what my family consider for my good, at +least until I come out. + +But our talk was all too short, for a fat man with three rings on came +in, and sat down with us, and ordered a whiskey and soda. My blood +turned cold, for fear some one I knew would come in and see me sitting +there in a drinking party. + +And my blood was right to turn cold. For, just as he had told the +manager about the arrangement I had made, and the manager said "Bully" +and raised his glass to drink to me I looked across and there was +mother's aunt, old Susan Paget, sitting near, with the most awful face +I ever saw! + +I collapsed in my chair. + +Dear Diary, I only remember saying, "Well, remember, ten o'clock. And +dress up like a gentleman in hard luck," and his saying: "Well, I hope +I'm a gentleman, and the hard luck's no joke," and then I went away. + +And now, Dear Diary, I am in bed, and every time the telephone rings +I have a chill. And in between times I drink ice-water and sneeze. How +terrible a thing is love. + + +LATER: I can hardly write. Switzerland is a settled thing. Father is not +home tonight and I cannot appeal to him. Susan Paget said I was drinking +too, and mother is having the vibrator used on her spine. If I felt +better I would run away. + + +JANUARY 26TH. How can I write what has happened? It is so terrible. + +Beresford went at ten o'clock to ask for Leila, and did not send in his +card for fear father would refuse to see him. And father thought, from +his saying that he had come to ask for something, and so on, that it +was Adrian, and threw him out. He ordered him out first, and Beresford +refused to go, and they had words, and then there was a fight. The +reporters got it, and it is in all the papers. Hannah has just brought +one in. It is headed "Manufacturer assaults Peer." Leila is in bed, and +the doctor is with her. + + +LATER: Adrian has disappeared. The manager has just called up, and with +shaking knees I went to the telephone. Adrian went to the mill a little +after ten, and has not been seen since. + +It is in vain I protest that he has not eloped with me. It is almost +time now for the matinee and no Adrian. What shall I do? + + +SATURDAY, 11 P.M. Dear Diary, I have the measles. I am all broken out, +and look horrible. But what is a sickness of the body compared to the +agony of my mind? Oh, Dear Diary, to think of what has happened since +last I saw your stainless pages! + +What is a sickness to a broken heart? And to a heart broken while trying +to help another who did not deserve to be helped. But if he deceived me, +he has paid for it, and did until he was rescued at ten o'clock tonight. + +I have been given a sleeping medicine, and until it takes affect I shall +write out the tragedy of this day, omitting nothing. The trained nurse +is asleep on a cot, and her cap is hanging on the foot of the bed. + +I have tried it on, Dear Diary, and it is very becoming. If they insist +on Switzerland I think I shall run away and be a trained nurse. It is +easy work, although sleeping on a cot is not always comfortable. But +at least a trained nurse leads her own life and is not bullied by her +family. And more, she does good constantly. + +I feel tonight that I should like to do good, and help the sick, and +perhaps go to the front. I know a lot of college men in the American +Ambulance. + +I shall never go on the stage, Dear Diary. I know now its deceitfulness +and vicissitudes. My heart has bled until it can bleed no more, as a +result of a theatrical Adonis. I am through with the theater forever. + +I shall begin at the beginning. I left off where Adrian had disappeared. + +Although feeling very strange, and looking a queer red color in my +mirror, I rose and dressed myself. I felt that something had slipped, and +I must find Adrian. (It is strange with what coldness I write that once +beloved name.) + +While dressing I perceived that my chest and arms were covered +with small red dots, but I had no time to think of myself. I slipped +downstairs and outside the drawing room I heard mother conversing in a +loud and angry tone with a visitor. I glanced in, and ye gods! + +It was the adventuress. + +Drawing somewhat back, I listened. Oh, Diary, what a revelation! + +"But I MUST see her," she was saying. "Time is flying. In a half hour +the performance begins, and--he cannot be found." + +"I can't understand," mother said, in a stiff manner. "What can my +daughter Barbara know about him?" + +The adventuress sniffed. "Humph!" she said. "She knows, alright. And +I'd like to see her in a hurry, if she is in the house." + +"Certainly she is in the house," said mother. + +"ARE YOU SURE OF THAT? Because I have every reason to believe she has +run away with him. She has been hanging around him all week, and only +yesterday afternoon I found them together. She had some sort of a scheme, +he said afterwards, and he wrinkled a coat under his mattress last +night. He said it was to look as if he had slept in it. I know nothing +further of your daughter's scheme. But I know he went out to meet her. He +has not been seen since. His manager has hunted for to hours." + +"Just a moment," said mother, in a frigid tone. "Am I to understand +that this--this Mr. Egleston is----" + +"He is my Husband." + +Ah, Dear Diary, that I might then and there have passed away. But I did +not. I stood there, with my heart crushed, until I felt strong enough to +escape. Then I fled, like a guilty soul. It was ghastly. + +On the doorstep I met Jane. She gazed at me strangely when she saw my +face, and then clutched me by the arm. + +"Bab!" she cried. "What on the earth is the matter with your +complexion?" + +But I was desperate. + +"Let me go!" I said. "Only lend me two dollars for a taxi and let me go. +Something horrible has happened." + +She gave me ninety cents, which was all she had, and I rushed down the +street, followed by her piercing gaze. + +Although realizing that my life, at least the part of it pertaining to +sentiment, was over, I knew that, single or married, I must find him. +I could not bare to think that I, in my desire to help, had ruined +Miss Everett's cousin's play. Luckily I got a taxi at the corner, and +I ordered it to drive to the mill. I sank back, bathed in hot +perspiration, and on consulting my bracelet watch found I had but twenty +five minutes until the curtain went up. + +I must find him, but where and how! I confess for a moment that I +doubted my own father, who can be very fierce on occasion. What if, +maddened by his mistake about Beresford, he had, on being approached by +Adrian, been driven to violence? What if, in my endeavor to help one who +was unworthy, I had led my poor paternal parent into crime? + +Hell is paved with good intentions. SAMUEL JOHNSTON. + + +On driving madly into the mill yard, I suddenly remembered that it was +Saturday and a half holiday. The mill was going, but the offices were +closed. Father, then, was immured in the safety of his club, and could +not be reached except by pay telephone. And the taxi was now ninety +cents. + +I got out, and paid the man. I felt very dizzy and queer, and was very +thirsty, so I went to the hydrant in the yard and got a drink of water. +I did not as yet suspect measles, but laid it all to my agony of mind. + +Having thus refreshed myself, I looked about, and saw the yard +policeman, a new one who did not know me, as I am away at school most of +the time, and the family is not expected to visit the mill, because of +dirt and possible accidents. + +I approached him, however, and he stood still and stared at me. + +"Officer" I said, in my most dignified tones. "I am looking for a--for a +gentleman who came here this morning to look for work." + +"There was about two hundred lined up here this morning, Miss," he said. +"Which one would it be, now?" + +How my heart sank! + +"About what time would he be coming?" he said. "Things have been kind of +mixed-up around here today, owing to a little trouble this morning. But +perhaps I'll remember him." + +But, although Adrian is of an unusual type, I felt that I could not +describe him, besides having a terrible headache. So I asked if he would +lend me carfare, which he did with a strange look. + +"You're not feeling sick, Miss, are you?" he said. But I could not stay +to converse, as it was then time for the curtain to go up, and still no +Adrian. + +I had but one refuge in mind, Carter Brooks, and to him I fled on the +wings of misery in the street car. I burst into his advertizing office +like a fury. + +"Where is he?" I demanded. "Where have you and your plotting hidden +him?" + +"Who? Beresford?" he asked in a placid manner. "He is at his hotel, I +believe, putting beefsteak on a bad eye. Believe me, Bab----" + +"Beresford!" I cried, in scorn and wretchedness. "What is he to me? Or +his eye either? I refer to Mr. Egleston. It is time for the curtain +to go up now, and unless he has by this time returned, there can be no +performance." + +"Look here," Carter said suddenly, "you look awfully queer, Bab. Your +face----" + +I stamped my foot. + +"What does my face matter?" I demanded. "I no longer care for him, but I +have ruined Miss Everett's cousin's play unless he turns up. Am I to be +sent to Switzerland with that on my soul?" + +"Switzerland!" he said slowly. "Why, Bab, they're not going to do that, +are they? I--I don't want you so far away." + +Dear Dairy, I am unsuspicious by nature, believing all mankind to be my +friends until proven otherwise. But there was a gloating look in Carter +Brooks' eyes as they turned on me. + +"Carter!" I said, "you know where he is and you will not tell me. You +WISH to ruin him." + +I was about to put my hand on his arm, but he drew away. + +"Look here," he said. "I'll tell you something, but please keep back. +Because you look like smallpox to me. I was at the mill this morning. +I do not know anything about your actor-friend. He's probably only +been run over or something. But I saw Beresford going in, and I--well, I +suggested that he'd better walk in on your father or he wouldn't get in. +It worked, Bab. HOW IT DID WORK! He went in and said he had come to ask +your father for something, and your father blew up by saying that he knew +about it, but that the world only owed a living to the man who would +hustle for it, and that he would not be forced to take any one he did +not want. + +"And in two minutes Beresford hit him, and got a response. It was a +million dollars worth." + +So he babbled on. But what were his words to me? + +Dear Diary, I gave no thought to the smallpox he had mentioned, although +fatal to the complexion. Or to the fight at the mill. I heard only +Adrian's possible tragic fate. Suddenly I collapsed, and asked for a +drink of water, feeling horrible, very wobbly and unable to keep my +knees from bending. + +And the next thing I remember is father taking me home, and Adrian's +fate still a deep mystery, and remaining such, while I had a warm sponge +to bring out the rest of the rash, followed by a sleep--it being measles +and not smallpox. + +Oh, Dear Diary, what a story I learned when having wakened and feeling +better, my father came tonight and talked to me from the doorway, not +being allowed in. + +Adrian had gone to the mill, and father, having thrown Beresford out +and asserted his principals, had not thrown him out, BUT HAD GIVEN HIM +A JOB IN THE MILL. And the Policeman had given him no chance to escape, +which he attempted. He was dragged to the shell plant and there locked +in, because of spies. The plant is under military guard. + +And there he had been compelled to drag a wheelbarrow back and forth +containing charcoal for a small furnace, for hours! + +Even when Carter found him he could not be released, as father was in +hiding from reporters, and would not go to the telephone or see callers. + +He labored until 10 p.m., while the theater remained dark, and people +got their money back. + +I have ruined him. I have also ruined Miss Everett's cousin. + +* * * * * + +The nurse is still asleep. I think I will enter a hospital. My career is +ended, my life is blasted. + +I reach under the mattress and draw out the picture of him who today +I have ruined, compelling him to do manual labor for hours, although +unaccustomed to it. He is a great actor, and I believe has a future. But +my love for him is dead. Dear Diary, he deceived me, and that is one +thing I cannot forgive. + +So now I sit here among my pillows, while the nurse sleeps, and I +reflect about many things. But one speech rings in my ears over and +over. + +Carter Brooks, on learning about Switzerland, said it in a strange +manner, looking at me with inscrutable eyes. + +"Switzerland! Why, Bab--I don't want you to go so far away." + +WHAT DID HE MEAN BY IT? + +* * * * * + +Dear Dairy, you will have to be burned, I daresay. Perhaps it is as well. +I have p o r e d out my H-e-a-r-t---- + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 366 *** diff --git a/366-h.zip b/366-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 961ff45..0000000 --- a/366-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/366-h/366-h.htm b/366-h/366-h.htm index acbef60..b0f32e4 100644 --- a/366-h/366-h.htm +++ b/366-h/366-h.htm @@ -4,10 +4,8 @@ <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> <meta charset="utf-8"> -<title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Bab: A sub-deb, by Mary -Roberts Rinehart. -</title> + +<title>Bab: A sub-deb | Project Gutenberg</title> <style> a:link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} @@ -21,7 +19,7 @@ a:hover {background-color:#ffffff;color:#FF0000;text-decoration:underline;} .castt {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;font-weight:bold; letter-spacing:2em;} -body{margin-left:4%;margin-right:6%;background:#ffffff;color:black;font-family:"Times New Roman", serif;font-size:medium;} +body{margin-left:4%;margin-right:6%;} .blockquot {margin-top:2%;margin-bottom:2%;} @@ -96,8 +94,7 @@ border:2px solid black;text-indent:0%;text-align:center;} </style> </head> <body> - <div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BAB: A SUB-DEB ***</div> - +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 366 ***</div> <hr class="full"> <p class="toc"> @@ -107,8 +104,7 @@ odd capitalizations have not been corrected. <div class="figcenter"> <a href="images/cover.jpg"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="350" height="550" alt="[The -image of the book's cover is unavailable.]"></a> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="[The image of the book's cover is unavailable.]" style="width: 350px; height: 550px"></a> </div> <hr class="full"> @@ -121,10 +117,7 @@ MARY ROBERTS RINEHART</p> <div class="figcenter"> <a href="images/frontispiece.jpg"> -<img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="340" height="550" alt="“Now,” he said “I wish you would tell me some good reason -why I should not hand you over to the Police.” Page 68. - -BAB: A Sub-Deb."></a> +<img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" alt="“Now,” he said “I wish you would tell me some good reason why I should not hand you over to the Police.” Page 68. BAB: A Sub-Deb." style="width: 340px; height: 550px"></a> <br> <span class="caption">“Now,” he said “I wish you would tell me some good reason why I should not hand you over to the Police.” <a href="#page_68">Page 68.</a> @@ -136,8 +129,7 @@ BAB: A Sub-Deb. </div> <div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/title.png" width="327" height="550" alt="[The -image of the title page is unavailable.]"> +<img src="images/title.png" alt="[The image of the title page is unavailable.]" style="width: 327px; height: 550px"> </div> <h1> @@ -10858,10 +10850,7 @@ Career. I beleive that the Army should be encouraged as much as possable. I have therfore sent him a small drawing, copied from the Manual, like this</p> -<p class="c"><img src="images/afirmative.png" -width="90" -height="120" -alt="[Image unavailable."></p> +<p class="c"><img src="images/afirmative.png" alt="[Image unavailable." style="width: 90px; height: 120px"></p> <p>Which means “Afirmative.”</p> @@ -11117,7 +11106,7 @@ Copyright Fiction</p> </table> <hr class="full"> -<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BAB: A SUB-DEB ***</div> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 366 ***</div> </body> </html> diff --git a/366.txt b/366.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 560cbc1..0000000 --- a/366.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6567 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Bab: A Sub-Deb, by Mary Roberts Rinehart - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Bab: A Sub-Deb - -Author: Mary Roberts Rinehart - -Release Date: November, 1995 [EBook #366] -Last Updated: February 28, 2015 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BAB: A SUB-DEB *** - - - - -Produced by Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteers - - - - - - - - -BAB: A SUB-DEB - -By Mary Roberts Rinehart - -Author Of "K," "The Circular Staircase," "Kings, Queens And Pawns," Etc. - - - - -CONTENTS - - -I. THE SUB-DEB - -II. THEME: THE CELEBRITY - -III. HER DIARY - - - - -CHAPTER I. THE SUB-DEB: A THEME WRITTEN AND SUBMITTED IN LITERATURE -CLASS BY BARBARA PUTNAM ARCHIBALD, 1917. - - -DEFINITION OF A THEME: - -A theme is a piece of writing, either true or made up by the author, -and consisting of Introduction, Body and Conclusion. It should contain -Unity, Coherence, Emphasis, Perspecuity, Vivacity, and Precision. It may -be ornamented with dialogue, description and choice quotations. - -SUBJECT OF THEME: - -An interesting Incident of My Christmas Holadays. - -Introduction: - -"A tyrant's power in rigor is exprest."--DRYDEN. - -I have decided to relate with precision what occurred during my recent -Christmas holiday. Although I was away from this school only four days, -returning unexpectedly the day after Christmas, a number of Incidents -occurred which I believe I should narrate. - -It is only just and fair that the Upper House, at least, should know -of the injustice of my exile, and that it is all the result of -circumstances over which I had no control. - -For I make this appeal, and with good reason. Is it any fault of mine -that my sister Leila is 20 months older than I am? Naturally, no. - -Is it fair also, I ask, that in the best society, a girl is a Sub-Deb -the year before she comes out, and although mature in mind, and even -maturer in many ways than her older sister, the latter is treated as a -young lady, enjoying many privileges, while the former is treated as a -mere child, in spite, as I have observed, of only 20 months difference? -I wish to place myself on record that it is NOT fair. - -I shall go back, for a short time, to the way things were at home when I -was small. I was very strictly raised. With the exception of Tommy Gray, -who lives next door and only is about my age, I was never permitted to -know any of the Other Sex. - -Looking back, I am sure that the present way society is organized is -really to blame for everything. I am being frank, and that is the way I -feel. I was too strictly raised. I always had a governess tagging along. -Until I came here to school I had never walked to the corner of the next -street unattended. If it wasn't Mademoiselle, it was mother's maid, and -if it wasn't either of them, it was mother herself, telling me to hold -my toes out and my shoulder blades in. As I have said, I never knew any -of the Other Sex, except the miserable little beasts at dancing school. -I used to make faces at them when Mademoiselle was putting on my -slippers and pulling out my hair bow. They were totally uninteresting, -and I used to put pins in my sash, so that they would get scratched. - -Their pumps mostly squeaked, and nobody noticed it, although I have -known my parents to dismiss a Butler who creaked at the table. - -When I was sent away to school, I expected to learn something of life. -But I was disappointed. I do not desire to criticize this institution of -learning. It is an excellent one, as is shown by the fact that the best -families send their daughters here. But to learn life one must know -something of both sides of it, male and female. It was, therefore, a -matter of deep regret to me to find that, with the exception of the -dancing master, who has three children, and the gardener, there were no -members of the sterner sex to be seen. - -The athletic coach was a girl! As she has left now to be married, I -venture to say that she was not what Lord Chesterfield so euphoniously -termed "SUAVITER IN MODO, FORTATER IN RE." - -When we go out to walk we are taken to the country, and the three -matinees a year we see in the city are mostly Shakespeare, arranged for -the young. We are allowed only certain magazines, the Atlantic Monthly -and one or two others, and Barbara Armstrong was penalized for having a -framed photograph of her brother in running clothes. - -At the school dances we are compelled to dance with each other, and the -result is that when at home at Holiday parties I always try to lead, -which annoys the boys I dance with. - -Notwithstanding all this it is an excellent school. We learn a great -deal, and our dear principal is a most charming and erudite person. But -we see very little of life. And if school is a preparation for life, -where are we? - -Being here alone since the day after Christmas, I have had time to think -everything out. I am naturally a thinking person. And now I am no longer -indignant. I realize that I was wrong, and that I am only paying the -penalty that I deserve although I consider it most unfair to be given -French translation to do. I do not object to going to bed at nine -o'clock, although ten is the hour in the Upper House, because I have -time then to look back over things, and to reflect, to think. - -"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." -SHAKESPEARE. - -BODY OF THEME: - -I now approach the narrative of what happened during the first four days -of my Christmas Holiday. - -For a period before the fifteenth of December, I was rather worried. All -the girls in the school were getting new clothes for Christmas parties, -and their Families were sending on invitations in great numbers, to -various festivities that were to occur when they went home. - -Nothing, however, had come for me, and I was worried. But on the 16th -mother's visiting Secretary sent on four that I was to accept, with -tiped acceptances for me to copy and send. She also sent me the good -news that I was to have two party dresses, and I was to send on my -measurements for them. - -One of the parties was a dinner and theater party, to be given by Carter -Brooks on New Year's Day. Carter Brooks is the well-known Yale Center, -although now no longer such but selling advertizing, ecetera. - -It is tragic to think that, after having so long anticipated that -party, I am now here in sackcloth and ashes, which is a figure of speech -for the Peter Thompson uniform of the school, with plain white for -evenings and no jewelry. - -It was with anticipatory joy, therefore, that I sent the acceptances and -the desired measurements, and sat down to cheerfully while away the time -in studies and the various duties of school life, until the Holidays. - -However, I was not long to rest in piece, for in a few days I received a -letter from Carter Brooks, as follows: - - -DEAR BARBARA: It was sweet of you to write me so promptly, although I -confess to being rather astonished as well as delighted at being called -"Dearest." The signature too was charming, "Ever thine." But, dear -child, won't you write at once and tell me why the waist, bust and hip -measurements? And the request to have them really low in the neck? Ever -thine, CARTER. - -It will be perceived that I had sent him the letter to mother, by -mistake. - -I was very unhappy about it. It was not an auspicious way to begin the -holidays, especially the low neck. Also I disliked very much having told -him my waist measure which is large owing to basket ball. - -As I have stated before, I have known very few of the Other Sex, but -some of the girls had had more experience, and in the days before we -went home, we talked a great deal about things. Especially Love. I felt -that it was rather over-done, particularly in fiction. Also I felt and -observed at divers times that I would never marry. It was my intention -to go upon the stage, although modified since by what I am about to -relate. - -The other girls say that I look like Julia Marlowe. - -Some of the girls had boys who wrote to them, and one of them--I refrain -from giving her name had--a Code. You read every third word. He called -her "Cousin" and he would write like this: - - -Dear Cousin: I am well. Am just about crazy this week to go home. See -notice enclosed you football game. - -And so on and on. Only what it really said was "I am crazy to see you." - -(In giving this code I am betraying no secrets, as they have quarreled -and everything is now over between them.) - -As I had nobody, at that time, and as I had visions of a career, I was -a man-hater. I acknowledge that this was a pose. But after all, what is -life but a pose? - -"Stupid things!" I always said. "Nothing in their heads but football and -tobacco smoke. Women," I said, "are only their playthings. And when they -do grow up and get a little intelligence they use it in making money." - -There has been a story in the school--I got it from one of the little -girls--that I was disappointed in love in early youth, the object of my -attachment having been the tenor in our church choir at home. I daresay I -should have denied the soft impeachment, but I did not. It was, although -not appearing so at the time, my first downward step on the path that -leads to destruction. - -"The way of the transgressor is hard"--Bible. - -I come now to the momentous day of my return to my dear home for -Christmas. Father and my sister Leila, who from now on I will term -"Sis," met me at the station. Sis was very elegantly dressed, and she -said: - -"Hello, Kid," and turned her cheek for me to kiss. - -She is, as I have stated, but 20 months older than I, and depends -altogether on her clothes for her beauty. In the morning she is plain, -although having a good skin. She was trimmed up with a bouquet of -violets as large as a dishpan, and she covered them with her hands when -I kissed her. - -She was waved and powdered, and she had on a perfectly new outfit. And -I was shabby. That is the exact word. Shabby. If you have to hang your -entire wardrobe in a closet ten inches deep, and put it over you on cold -nights, with the steam heat shut off at ten o'clock, it does not make it -look any better. - -My father has always been my favorite member of the family, and he was -very glad to see me. He has a great deal of tact, also, and later on he -slipped ten dollars in my purse in the motor. I needed it very much, -as after I had paid the porter and bought luncheon, I had only three -dollars left and an I. O. U. from one of the girls for seventy-five -cents, which this may remind her, if it is read in class, she has -forgotten. - -"Good heavens, Barbara," Sis said, while I hugged father, "you certainly -need to be pressed." - -"I daresay I'll be the better for a hot iron," I retorted, "but at least -I shan't need it on my hair." My hair is curly while hers is straight. - -"Boarding school wit!" she said, and stocked to the motor. - -Mother was in the car and glad to see me, but as usual she managed to -restrain her enthusiasm. She put her hands over some orchids she was -wearing when I kissed her. She and Sis were on their way to something or -other. - -"Trimmed up like Easter hats, you two!" I said. - -"School has not changed you, I fear, Barbara," mother observed. "I hope -you are studying hard." - -"Exactly as hard as I have to. No more, no less," I regret to -confess that I replied. And I saw Sis and mother exchange glances of -significance. - -We dropped them at the reception and father went to his office and I -went on home alone. And all at once I began to be embittered. Sis had -everything, and what had I? And when I got home, and saw that Sis had -had her room done over, and ivory toilet things on her dressing table, -and two perfectly huge boxes of candy on a stand and a ball gown laid -out on the bed, I almost wept. - -My own room was just as I had left it. It had been the night nursery, -and there was still the dent in the mantel where I had thrown a hair -brush at Sis, and the ink spot on the carpet at the foot of the bed, and -everything. - -Mademoiselle had gone, and Hannah, mother's maid, came to help me off -with my things. I slammed the door in her face, and sat down on the bed -and RAGED. - -They still thought I was a little girl. They PATRONIZED me. I would -hardly have been surprised if they had sent up a bread and milk supper -on a tray. It was then and there that I made up my mind to show them -that I was no longer a mere child. That the time was gone when they -could shut me up in the nursery and forget me. I was seventeen years and -eleven days old, and Juliet, in Shakespeare, was only sixteen when she -had her well-known affair with Romeo. - -I had no plan then. It was not until the next afternoon that the thing -sprung (sprang?) fullblown from the head of Jove. - -The evening was rather dreary. The family was going out, but not until -nine thirty, and mother and Leila went over my clothes. They sat, Sis -in pink chiffon and mother in black and silver, and Hannah took out my -things and held them up. I was obliged to silently sit by, while my rags -and misery were exposed. - -"Why this open humiliation?" I demanded at last. "I am the family -Cinderella, I admit it. But it isn't necessary to lay so much emphasis -on it, is it?" - -"Don't be sarcastic, Barbara," said mother. "You are still only a child, -and a very untidy child at that. What do you do with your elbows to rub -them through so? It must have taken patience and application." - -"Mother" I said, "am I to have the party dresses?" - -"Two. Very simple." - -"Low in the neck?" - -"Certainly not. A small v, perhaps." - -"I've got a good neck." She rose impressively. - -"You amaze and shock me, Barbara," she said coldly. - -"I shouldn't have to wear tulle around my shoulders to hide the bones!" -I retorted. "Sis is rather thin." - -"You are a very sharp-tongued little girl," mother said, looking up at -me. I am two inches taller than she is. - -"Unless you learn to curb yourself, there will be no parties for you, -and no party dresses." - -This was the speech that broke the camel's back. I could endure no more. - -"I think," I said, "that I shall get married and end everything." - -Need I explain that I had no serious intention of taking the fatal step? -But it was not deliberate mendacity. It was despair. - -Mother actually went white. She clutched me by the arm and shook me. - -"What are you saying?" she demanded. - -"I think you heard me, mother" I said, very politely. I was however -thinking hard. - -"Marry whom? Barbara, answer me." - -"I don't know. Anybody." - -"She's trying to frighten you, mother" Sis said. "There isn't anybody. -Don't let her fool you." - -"Oh, isn't there?" I said in a dark and portentous manner. - -Mother gave me a long look, and went out. I heard her go into father's -dressing-room. But Sis sat on my bed and watched me. - -"Who is it, Bab?" she asked. "The dancing teacher? Or your riding -master? Or the school plumber?" - -"Guess again." - -"You're just enough of a little simpleton to get tied up to some wretched -creature and disgrace us all." - -I wish to state here that until that moment I had no intention of going -any further with the miserable business. I am naturally truthful, -and deception is hateful to me. But when my sister uttered the above -disparaging remark I saw that, to preserve my own dignity, which I value -above precious stones, I would be compelled to go on. - -"I'm perfectly mad about him," I said. "And he's crazy about me." - -"I'd like very much to know," Sis said, as she stood up and stared at -me, "how much you are making up and how much is true." - -None the less, I saw that she was terrified. The family kitten, to speak -in allegory, had become a lion and showed its claws. - -When she had gone out I tried to think of some one to hang a love affair -to. But there seemed to be nobody. They knew perfectly well that the -dancing master had one eye and three children, and that the clergyman at -school was elderly, with two wives. One dead. - -I searched my past, but it was blameless. It was empty and bare, and -as I looked back and saw how little there had been in it but imbibing -wisdom and playing basket-ball and tennis, and typhoid fever when I -was fourteen and almost having to have my head shaved, a great wave of -bitterness agitated me. - -"Never again," I observed to myself with firmness. "Never again, if I -have to invent a member of the Other Sex." - -At that time, however, owing to the appearance of Hannah with a mending -basket, I got no further than his name. - -It was Harold. I decided to have him dark, with a very small black -mustache, and passionate eyes. I felt, too, that he would be jealous. -The eyes would be of the smoldering type, showing the green-eyed -monster beneath. - -I was very much cheered up. At least they could not ignore me any more, -and I felt that they would see the point. If I was old enough to have -a lover--especially a jealous one with the aforementioned eyes--I was old -enough to have the necks of my frocks cut out. - -While they were getting their wraps on in the lower hall, I counted my -money. I had thirteen dollars. It was enough for a plan I was beginning -to have in mind. - -"Go to bed early, Barbara," mother said when they were ready to go out. - -"You don't mind if I write a letter, do you?" - -"To whom?" - -"Oh, just a letter," I said, and she stared at me coldly. - -"I daresay you will write it, whether I consent or not. Leave it on the -hall table, and it will go out with the morning mail." - -"I may run out to the box with it." - -"I forbid your doing anything of the sort." - -"Oh, very well," I responded meekly. - -"If there is such haste about it, give it to Hannah to mail." - -"Very well," I said. - -She made an excuse to see Hannah before she left, and I knew THAT I WAS -BEING WATCHED. I was greatly excited, and happier than I had been for -weeks. But when I had settled myself in the library, with the paper -in front of me, I could not think of anything to say in a letter. So I -wrote a poem instead.= - -```"To H---- - -```"Dear love: you seem so far away, - -````I would that you were near. - -```I do so long to hear you say - -```Again, 'I love you, dear.'= - -```"Here all is cold and drear and strange - -````With none who with me tarry, - -```I hope that soon we can arrange - -````To run away and marry."= - -The last verse did not scan, exactly, but I wished to use the word -"marry" if possible. It would show, I felt, that things were really -serious and impending. A love affair is only a love affair, but marriage -is marriage, and the end of everything. - -It was at that moment, 10 o'clock, that the strange thing occurred which -did not seem strange at all at the time, but which developed into so -great a mystery later on. Which was to actually threaten my reason and -which, flying on winged feet, was to send me back here to school the -day after Christmas and put my seed pearl necklace in the safe deposit -vault. Which was very unfair, for what had my necklace to do with it? -And just now, when I need comfort, it--the necklace--would help to -relieve my exile. - -Hannah brought me in a cup of hot milk, with a Valentine's malted milk -tablet dissolved in it. - -As I stirred it around, it occurred to me that Valentine would be a good -name for Harold. On the spot I named him Harold Valentine, and I wrote -the name on the envelope that had the poem inside, and addressed it to -the town where this school gets its mail. - -It looked well written out. "Valentine," also, is a word that naturally -connects itself with AFFAIRS DE COUR. And I felt that I was safe, for as -there was no Harold Valentine, he could not call for the letter at the -post office, and would therefore not be able to cause me any trouble, -under any circumstances. And, furthermore. I knew that Hannah would not -mail the letter anyhow, but would give it to mother. So, even if there -was a Harold Valentine, he would never get it. - -Comforted by these reflections, I drank my malted milk, ignorant of -the fact that destiny, "which never swerves, nor yields to men the -helm"--Emerson, was stocking at my heels. - -Between sips, as the expression goes, I addressed the envelope to Harold -Valentine, and gave it to Hannah. She went out the front door with it, -as I had expected, but I watched from a window, and she turned right -around and went in the area way. So THAT was all right. - -It had worked like a Charm. I could tear my hair now when I think how -well it worked. I ought to have been suspicious for that very reason. -When things go very well with me at the start, it is a sure sign that -they are going to blow up eventually. - -Mother and Sis slept late the next morning, and I went out stealthily -and did some shopping. First I bought myself a bunch of violets, with a -white rose in the center, and I printed on the card: - -"My love is like a white, white rose. H." And sent it to myself. - -It was deception, I acknowledge, but having put my hand to the plow, -I did not intend to steer a crooked course. I would go straight to the -end. I am like that in everything I do. But, on deliberating things -over, I felt that Violets, alone and unsupported, were not enough. I felt -that If I had a photograph, it would make everything more real. After -all, what is a love affair without a picture of the Beloved Object? - -So I bought a photograph. It was hard to find what I wanted, but I got -it at last in a stationer's shop, a young man in a checked suit with a -small mustache--the young man, of course, not the suit. Unluckily, he -was rather blonde, and had a dimple in his chin. But he looked exactly -as though his name ought to be Harold. - -I may say here that I chose "Harold," not because it is a favorite name -of mine, but because it is romantic in sound. Also because I had never -known any one named Harold and it seemed only discrete. - -I took it home in my muff and put it under my pillow where Hannah would -find it and probably take it to mother. I wanted to buy a ring too, to -hang on a ribbon around my neck. But the violets had made a fearful hole -in my thirteen dollars. - -I borrowed a stub pen at the stationer's and I wrote on the photograph, -in large, sprawling letters, "To YOU from ME." - -"There," I said to myself, when I put it under the pillow. "You look -like a photograph, but you are really a bomb-shell." - -As things eventuated, it was. More so, indeed. - -Mother sent for me when I came in. She was sitting in front of her -mirror, having the vibrator used on her hair, and her manner was -changed. I guessed that there had been a family counsel over the poem, -and that they had decided to try kindness. - -"Sit down, Barbara," she said. "I hope you were not lonely last night?" - -"I am never lonely, mother. I always have things to think about." - -I said this in a very pathetic tone. - -"What sort of things?" mother asked, rather sharply. - -"Oh--things," I said vaguely. "Life is such a mess, isn't it?" - -"Certainly not. Unless one makes it so." - -"But it is so difficult. Things come up and--and it's hard to know what -to do. The only way, I suppose, is to be true to one's belief in one's -self." - -"Take that thing off my head and go out, Hannah," mother snapped. "Now -then, Barbara, what in the world has come over you?" - -"Over me? Nothing." - -"You are being a silly child." - -"I am no longer a child, mother. I am seventeen. And at seventeen there -are problems. After all, one's life is one's own. One must decide----" - -"Now, Barbara, I am not going to have any nonsense. You must put that -man out of your head." - -"Man? What man?" - -"You think you are in love with some driveling young Fool. I'm not -blind, or an idiot. And I won't have it." - -"I have not said that there is anyone, have I?" I said in a gentle -voice. "But if there was, just what would you propose to do, mother?" - -"If you were three years younger I'd propose to spank you." Then I -think she saw that she was taking the wrong method, for she changed her -tactics. "It's the fault of that silly school," she said. (Note: -These are my mother's words, not mine.) "They are hotbeds of sickly -sentimentality. They----" - -And just then the violets came, addressed to me. Mother opened them -herself, her mouth set. "My love is like a white, white rose," she said. -"Barbara, do you know who sent these?" - -"Yes, mother," I said meekly. This was quite true. I did. - -I am indeed sorry to record that here my mother lost her temper, and -there was no end of a fuss. It ended by mother offering me a string of -seed pearls for Christmas, and my party dresses cut V front and back, if -I would, as she phrased it, "put him out of my silly head." - -"I shall have to write one letter, mother," I said, "to--to break things -off. I cannot tear myself out of another's life without a word." - -She sniffed. - -"Very well," she said. "One letter. I trust you to make it only one." - -I come now to the next day. How true it is, that "Man's life is but a -jest, a dream, a shadow, bubble, air, a vapor at the best!" - -I spent the morning with mother at the dressmakers and she chose two -perfectly spiffing things, one of white chiffon over silk, made modified -Empire, with little bunches of roses here and there on it, and when she -and the dressmaker were haggling over the roses, I took the scissors and -cut the neck of the lining two inches lower in front. The effect was -positively impressive. The other was blue over orchid, a perfectly -passionate combination. - -When we got home some of the girls had dropped in, and Carter Brooks -and Sis were having tea in the den. I am perfectly sure that Sis threw -a cigarette in the fire when I went in. When I think of my sitting here -alone, when I have done NOTHING, and Sis playing around and smoking -cigarettes, and nothing said, all for a difference of 20 months, it -makes me furious. - -"Let's go in and play with the children, Leila," he said. "I'm feeling -young today." - -Which was perfectly silly. He is not Methuselah. Although thinking -himself so, or almost. - -Well, they went into the drawing room. Elaine Adams was there waiting -for me, and Betty Anderson and Jane Raleigh. And I hadn't been in the -room five minutes before I knew that they all knew. It turned out later -that Hannah was engaged to the Adams' butler, and she had told him, -and he had told Elaine's governess, who is still there and does the -ordering, and Elaine sends her stockings home for her to darn. - -Sis had told Carter, too, I saw that, and among them they had rather -a good time. Carter sat down at the piano and struck a few chords, -chanting "My Love is like a white, white rose." - -"Only you know" he said, turning to me, "that's wrong. It ought to be a -'red, red rose.'" - -"Certainly not. The word is 'white.'" - -"Oh, is it?" he said, with his head on one side. "Strange that both you -and Harold should have got it wrong." - -I confess to a feeling of uneasiness at that moment. - -Tea came, and Carter insisted on pouring. - -"I do so love to pour!" he said. "Really, after a long day's shopping, -tea is the only thing that keeps me going until dinner. Cream or lemon, -Leila dear?" - -"Both," Sis said in an absent manner, with her eyes on me. "Barbara, -come into the den a moment. I want to show you mother's Christmas gift." - -She stocked in ahead of me, and lifted a book from the table. Under it -was the photograph. - -"You wretched child!" she said. "Where did you get that?" - -"That's not your affair, is it?" - -"I'm going to make it my affair. Did he give it to you?" - -"Have you read what's written on it?" - -"Where did you meet him?" - -I hesitated because I am by nature truthful. But at last I said: - -"At school." - -"Oh," she said slowly. "So you met him at school! What was he doing -there? Teaching elocution?" - -"Elocution!" - -"This is Harold, is it?" - -"Certainly." Well, he WAS Harold, if I chose to call him that, wasn't -he? Sis gave a little sigh. - -"You're quite hopeless, Bab. And, although I'm perfectly sure you want -me to take the thing to mother, I'll do nothing of the sort." - -SHE FLUNG IT INTO THE FIRE. I was raging. It had cost me a dollar. It -was quite brown when I got it out, and a corner was burned off. But I -got it. - -"I'll thank you to burn your own things," I said with dignity. And I -went back to the drawing room. - -The girls and Carter Brooks were talking in an undertone when I got -there. I knew it was about me. And Jane came over to me and put her arm -around me. - -"You poor thing!" she said. "Just fight it out. We're all with you." - -"I'm so helpless, Jane." I put all the despair I could into my voice. -For after all, if they were going to talk about my private affairs -behind my back, I felt that they might as well have something to talk -about. As Jane's second cousin once removed is in this school and as -Jane will probably write her all about it, I hope this theme is read -aloud in class, so she will get it all straight. Jane is imaginative and -may have a wrong idea of things. - -"Don't give in. Let them bully you. They can't really do anything. And -they're scared. Leila is positively sick." - -"I've promised to write and break it off," I said in a tense tone. - -"If he really loves you," said Jane, "the letter won't matter." There -was a thrill in her voice. Had I not been uneasy at my deceit, I to -would have thrilled. - -Some fresh muffins came in just then and I was starving. But I waved -them away, and stood staring at the fire. - -I am writing all of this as truthfully as I can. I am not defending -myself. What I did I was driven to, as any one can see. It takes a real -shock to make the average family wake up to the fact that the youngest -daughter is not the family baby at seventeen. All I was doing was -furnishing the shock. If things turned out badly, as they did, it -was because I rather overdid the thing. That is all. My motives were -perfectly irreproachable. - -Well, they fell on the muffins like pigs, and I could hardly stand it. -So I wandered into the den, and it occurred to me to write the letter -then. I felt that they all expected me to do something anyhow. - -If I had never written the wretched letter things would be better now. -As I say, I overdid. But everything had gone so smoothly all day that I -was deceived. But the real reason was a new set of furs. I had secured -the dresses and the promise of the necklace on a poem and a photograph, -and I thought that a good love letter might bring a muff. It all shows -that it does not do to be grasping. - -HAD I NOT WRITTEN THE LETTER, THERE WOULD HAVE BEEN NO TRAGEDY. - -But I wrote it and if I do say it, it was a LETTER. I commenced it -"Darling," and I said I was mad to see him, and that I would always love -him. But I told him that the family objected to him, and that this was -to end everything between us. They had started the phonograph in the -library, and were playing "The Rosary." So I ended with a verse from -that. It was really a most affecting letter. I almost wept over it -myself, because, if there had been a Harold, it would have broken his -Heart. - -Of course I meant to give it to Hannah to mail, and she would give it to -mother. Then, after the family had read it and it had got in its work, -including the set of furs, they were welcome to mail it. It would go -to the dead letter office, since there was no Harold. It could not come -back to me, for I had only signed it "Barbara." I had it all figured out -carefully. It looked as if I had everything to gain, including the furs, -and nothing to lose. Alas, how little I knew! - -"The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft allay." Burns. - -Carter Brooks ambled into the room just as I sealed it and stood gazing -down at me. - -"You're quite a Person these days, Bab," he said. "I suppose all the -customary Xmas kisses are being saved this year for what's his name." - -"I don't understand you." - -"For Harold. You know, Bab, I think I could bear up better if his name -wasn't Harold." - -"I don't see how it concerns you," I responded. - -"Don't you? With me crazy about you for lo, these many years! First as -a baby, then as a sub-sub-deb, and now as a sub-deb. Next year, when you -are a real debutante----" - -"You've concealed your infatuation bravely." - -"It's been eating me inside. A green and yellow melancholy--hello! A -letter to him!" - -"Why, so it is," I said in a scornful tone. - -He picked it up, and looked at it. Then he started and stared at me. - -"No!" he said. "It isn't possible! It isn't old Valentine!" - -Positively, my knees got cold. I never had such a shock. - -"It--it certainly is Harold Valentine," I said feebly. - -"Old Hal!" he muttered. "Well, who would have thought it! And not a word -to me about it, the secretive old duffer!" He held out his hand to me. -"Congratulations, Barbara," he said heartily. "Since you absolutely -refuse me, you couldn't do better. He's the finest chap I know. If it's -Valentine the family is kicking up such a row about, you leave it to -me. I'll tell them a few things." - -I was stunned. Would anybody have believed it? To pick a name out of the -air, so to speak, and off a malted milk tablet, and then to find that it -actually belonged to some one--was sickening. - -"It may not be the one you know" I said desperately. "It--it's a common -name. There must be plenty of Valentines." - -"Sure there are, lace paper and cupids--lots of that sort. But there's -only one Harold Valentine, and now you've got him pinned to the wall! -I'll tell you what I'll do, Barbara. I'm a real friend of yours. Always -have been. Always will be. The chances are against the family letting -him get this letter. I'll give it to him." - -"GIVE it to him?" - -"Why, he's here. You know that, don't you? He's in town over the -holidays." - -"Oh, no!" I said in a gasping Voice. - -"Sorry," he said. "Probably meant it as a surprise to you. Yes, he's -here, with bells on." - -He then put the letter in his pocket before my very eyes, and sat down -on the corner of the writing table! - -"You don't know how all this has relieved my mind," he said. "The poor -chap's been looking down. Not interested in anything. Of course this -explains it. He's the sort to take Love hard. At college he took -everything hard--like to have died once with German measles." - -He picked up a book, and the charred picture was underneath. He pounced -on it. "Pounced" is exactly the right word. - -"Hello!" he said, "family again, I suppose. Yes, it's Hal, all right. -Well, who would have thought it!" - -My last hope died. Then and there I had a nervous chill. I was compelled -to prop my chin on my hand to keep my teeth from chattering. - -"Tell you what I'll do," he said, in a perfectly cheerful tone that -made me cold all over. "I'll be the cupid for your Valentine. See? -Far be it from me to see love's young dream wiped out by a hardhearted -family. I'm going to see this thing through. You count on me, Barbara. -I'll arrange that you get a chance to see each other, family or no -family. Old Hal has been looking down his nose long enough. When's your -first party?" - -"Tomorrow night," I gasped out. - -"Very well. Tomorrow night it is. It's the Adams', isn't it, at the -Club?" - -I could only nod. I was beyond speaking. I saw it all clearly. I had -been wicked in deceiving my dear family and now I was to pay the -penalty. He would know at once that I had made him up, or rather he did -not know me and therefore could not possibly be in Love with me. And -what then? - -"But look here," he said, "if I take him there as Valentine, the family -will be on, you know. We'd better call him something else. Got any -choice as to a name?" - -"Carter" I said frantically. "I think I'd better tell you. I----" - -"How about calling him Grosvenor?". he babbled on. "Grosvenor's a good -name. Ted Grosvenor--that ought to hit them between the eyes. It's going -to be rather a lark, Miss Bab!" - -And of course just then mother came in, and the Brooks idiot went in -and poured her a cup of tea, with his little finger stuck out at a right -angel, and every time he had a chance he winked at me. - -I wanted to die. - -When they had all gone home it seemed like a bad dream, the whole thing. -It could not be true. I went upstairs and manicured my nails, which -usually comforts me, and put my hair up like Leila's. - -But nothing could calm me. I had made my own fate, and must lie in it. -And just then Hannah slipped in with a box in her hands and her eyes -frightened. - -"Oh, Miss Barbara!" she said. "If your mother sees this!" - -I dropped my manicure scissors, I was so alarmed. But I opened the box, -and clutched the envelope inside. It said "from H----." Then Carter was -right. There was an H after all! - -Hannah was rolling her hands in her apron and her eyes were popping out -of her head. - -"I just happened to see the boy at the door," she said, with her silly -teeth chattering. "Oh, Miss Barbara, if Patrick had answered the bell! -What shall we do with them?" - -"You take them right down the back stairs," I said. "As if it was an -empty box. And put it outside with the waist papers. Quick." - -She gathered the thing up, but of course mother had to come in just -then and they met in the doorway. She saw it all in one glance, and she -snatched the card out of my hand. - -"From H----!" she read. "Take them out, Hannah, and throw them away. No, -don't do that. Put them on the Servant's table." Then, when the door -had closed, she turned to me. "Just one more ridiculous episode of this -kind, Barbara," she said, "and you go back to school--Christmas or no -Christmas." - -I will say this. If she had shown the faintest softness, I'd have told -her the whole thing. But she did not. She looked exactly as gentle as a -macadam pavement. I am one who has to be handled with gentleness. A -kind word will do anything with me, but harsh treatment only makes me -determined. I then become inflexible as iron. - -That is what happened then. Mother took the wrong course and threatened, -which as I have stated is fatal, as far as I am concerned. I refused -to yield an inch, and it ended in my having my dinner in my room, and -mother threatening to keep me home from the party the next night. It was -not a threat, if she had only known it. - -But when the next day went by, with no more flowers, and nothing -apparently wrong except that mother was very dignified with me, I began -to feel better. Sis was out all day, and in the afternoon Jane called me -up. - -"How are you?" she said. - -"Oh, I'm all right." - -"Everything smooth?" - -"Well, smooth enough." - -"Oh, Bab," she said. "I'm just crazy about it. All the girls are." - -"I knew they were crazy about something." - -"You poor thing, no wonder you are bitter," she said. "Somebody's -coming. I'll have to ring off. But don't you give in, Bab. Not an inch. -Marry your heart's desire, no matter who butts in." - -Well, you can see how it was. Even then I could have told father and -mother, and got out of it somehow. But all the girls knew about it, and -there was nothing to do but go on. - -All that day every time I thought of the Party my heart missed a beat. -But as I would not lie and say that I was ill--I am naturally truthful, -as far as possible--I was compelled to go, although my heart was -breaking. - -I am not going to write much about the party, except a slight -description, which properly belongs in every theme. - -All Parties for the school set are alike. The boys range from -knickerbockers to college men in their freshmen year, and one is likely -to dance half the evening with youngsters that one saw last in their -perambulators. It is rather startling to have about six feet of black -trouser legs and white shirt front come and ask one to dance and then -to get one's eyes raised as far as the top of what looks like a -particularly thin pair of tree trunks and see a little boy's face. - -As this theme is to contain description I shall describe the ball room -of the club where the eventful party occurred. - -The ball room is white, with red hangings, and looks like a Charlotte -Russe with maraschino cherries. Over the fireplace they had put "Merry -Christmas," in electric lights, and the chandeliers were made into -Christmas trees and hung with colored balls. One of the balls fell -off during the cotillion, and went down the back of one of the girl's -dresses, and they were compelled to up-end her and shake her out in the -dressing room. - -The favors were insignificant, as usual. It is not considered good taste -to have elaborate things for the school crowd. But when I think of the -silver things Sis always brought home, and remember that I took away -about six Christmas stockings, a toy balloon, four whistles, a wooden -canary in a cage and a box of talcum powder, I feel that things are not -fair in this World. - -Hannah went with me, and in the motor she said: - -"Oh, Miss Barbara, do be careful. The family is that upset." - -"Don't be a silly," I said. "And if the family is half as upset as I -am, it is throwing a fit at this minute." - -We were early, of course. My mother believes in being on time, and -besides, she and Sis wanted the motor later. And while Hannah was on her -knees taking off my carriage boots, I suddenly decided that I could not -go down. Hannah turned quite pale when I told her. - -"What will your mother say?" she said. "And you with your new dress and -all! It's as much as my life is worth to take you back home now, Miss -Barbara." - -Well, that was true enough. There would be a riot if I went home, and I -knew it. - -"I'll see the steward and get you a cup of tea," Hannah said. "Tea sets -me up like anything when I'm nervous. Now please be a good girl, Miss -Barbara, and don't run off, or do anything foolish." - -She wanted me to promise, but I would not, although I could not have run -anywhere. My legs were entirely numb. - -In a half hour at the utmost I knew all would be known, and very likely -I would be a homeless wanderer on the earth. For I felt that never, never -could I return to my dear ones, when my terrible actions became known. - -Jane came in while I was sipping the tea and she stood off and eyed me -with sympathy. - -"I don't wonder, Bab!" she said. "The idea of your family acting so -outrageously! And look here" She bent over me and whispered it. "Don't -trust Carter too much. He is perfectly infatuated with Leila, and he -will play into the hands of the enemy. BE CAREFUL." - -"Loathsome creature!" was my response. "As for trusting him, I trust no -one, these days." - -"I don't wonder your faith is gone," she observed. But she was talking -with one eye on a mirror. - -"Pink makes me pale," she said. "I'll bet the maid has a drawer full of -rouge. I'm going to see. How about a touch for you? You look ghastly." - -"I don't care how I look," I said, recklessly. "I think I'll sprain my -ankle and go home. Anyhow I am not allowed to use rouge." - -"Not allowed!" she observed. "What has that got to do with it? I don't -understand you, Bab; you are totally changed." - -"I am suffering," I said. I was to. - -Just then the maid brought me a folded note. Hannah was hanging up my -wraps, and did not see it. Jane's eyes fairly bulged. - -"I hope you have saved the cotillion for me," it said. And it was -signed. H----! - -"Good gracious," Jane said breathlessly. "Don't tell me he is here, and -that that's from him!" - -I had to swallow twice before I could speak. Then I said, solemnly: - -"He is here, Jane. He has followed me. I am going to dance the cotillion -with him although I shall probably be disinherited and thrown out into -the world, as a result." - -I have no recollection whatever of going down the staircase and into the -ballroom. Although I am considered rather brave, and once saved one of -the smaller girls from drowning, as I need not remind the school, when -she was skating on thin ice, I was frightened. I remember that, inside -the door, Jane said "Courage!" in a low tense voice, and that I stepped -on somebody's foot and said "Certainly" instead of apologizing. The -shock of that brought me around somewhat, and I managed to find Mrs. -Adams and Elaine, and not disgrace myself. Then somebody at my elbow -said: - -"All right, Barbara. Everything's fixed." - -It was Carter. - -"He's waiting in the corner over there," he said. "We'd better go -through the formality of an introduction. He's positively twittering -with excitement." - -"Carter" I said desperately. "I want to tell you something first. I've -got myself in an awful mess. I----" - -"Sure you have," he said. "That's why I'm here, to help you out. Now -you be calm, and there's no reason why you two can't have the evening of -your young lives. I wish I could fall in love. It must be bully." - -"Carter----!" - -"Got his note, didn't you?" - -"Yes, I----" - -"Here we are," said Carter. "Miss Archibald, I would like to present Mr. -Grosvenor." - -Somebody bowed in front of me, and then straightened up and looked down -at me. IT WAS THE MAN OF THE PICTURE, LITTLE MUSTACHE AND ALL. My mouth -went perfectly dry. - -It is all very well to talk about Romance and Love, and all that sort -of thing. But I have concluded that amorous experiences are not always -agreeable. And I have discovered something else. The moment anybody is -crazy about me I begin to hate him. It is curious, but I am like that. I -only care as long as they, or he, is far away. And the moment I touched -H's white kid glove, I knew I loathed him. - -"Now go to it, you two," Carter said in cautious tone. "Don't be -conspicuous. That's all." - -And he left us. - -"Suppose we dance this. Shall we?" said H. And the next moment we were -gliding off. He danced very well. I will say that. But at the time I was -too much occupied with hating him to care about dancing, or anything. -But I was compelled by my pride to see things through. We are a very -proud family and never show our troubles, though our hearts be torn -with anguish. - -"Think," he said, when we had got away from the band, "think of our -being together like this!" - -"It's not so surprising, is it? We've got to be together if we are -dancing." - -"Not that. Do you know, I never knew so long a day as this has been. The -thought of meeting you--er--again, and all that." - -"You needn't rave for my benefit," I said freezingly. "You know -perfectly well that you never saw me before." - -"Barbara! With your dear little letter in my breast pocket at this -moment!" - -"I didn't know men had breast pockets in their evening clothes." - -"Oh well, have it your own way. I'm too happy to quarrel," he said. "How -well you dance--only, let me lead, won't you? How strange it is to think -that we have never danced together before!" - -"We must have a talk," I said desperately. "Can't we go somewhere, away -from the noise?" - -"That would be conspicuous, wouldn't it, under the circumstances? If we -are to overcome the family objection to me, we'll have to be cautious, -Barbara." - -"Don't call me Barbara," I snapped. "I know perfectly well what you -think of me, and I----" - -"I think you are wonderful," he said. "Words fail me when I try to tell -you what I am thinking. You've saved the cotillion for me, haven't you? -If not, I'm going to claim it anyhow. IT IS MY RIGHT." - -He said it in the most determined manner, as if everything was settled. -I felt like a rat in a trap, and Carter, watching from a corner, looked -exactly like a cat. If he had taken his hand in its white glove and -washed his face with it, I would hardly have been surprised. - -The music stopped, and somebody claimed me for the next. Jane came up, -too, and clutched my arm. - -"You lucky thing!" she said. "He's perfectly handsome. And oh, Bab, he's -wild about you. I can see it in his eyes." - -"Don't pinch, Jane," I said coldly. "And don't rave. He's an idiot." - -She looked at me with her mouth open. - -"Well, if you don't want him, pass him on to me," she said, and walked -away. - -It was too silly, after everything that had happened, to dance the next -dance with Willie Graham, who is still in knickerbockers, and a full -head shorter than I am. But that's the way with a Party for the school -crowd, as I've said before. They ask all ages, from perambulators up, -and of course the little boys all want to dance with the older girls. It -is deadly stupid. - -But H seemed to be having a good time. He danced a lot with Jane, who -is a wretched dancer, with no sense of time whatever. Jane is not pretty, -but she has nice eyes, and I am not afraid, second cousin once removed -or no second cousin once removed, to say she used them. - -Altogether, it was a terrible evening. I danced three dances out of four -with knickerbockers, and one with old Mr. Adams, who is fat and rotates -his partner at the corners by swinging her on his waistcoat. Carter did -not dance at all, and every time I tried to speak to him he was taking a -crowd of the little girls to the fruit-punch bowl. - -I determined to have things out with H during the cotillion, and tell -him that I would never marry him, that I would die first. But I was -favored a great deal, and when we did have a chance the music was making -such a noise that I would have had to shout. Our chairs were next to the -band. - -But at last we had a minute, and I went out to the verandah, which was -closed in with awnings. He had to follow, of course, and I turned and -faced him. - -"Now" I said, "this has got to stop." - -"I don't understand you, Bab." - -"You do, perfectly well," I stormed. "I can't stand it. I am going -crazy." - -"Oh," he said slowly. "I see. I've been dancing too much with the -little girl with the eyes! Honestly, Bab, I was only doing it to disarm -suspicion. MY EVERY THOUGHT IS OF YOU." - -"I mean," I said, as firmly as I could, "that this whole thing has got -to stop. I can't stand it." - -"Am I to understand," he said solemnly, "that you intend to end -everything?" - -I felt perfectly wild and helpless. - -"After that Letter!" he went on. "After that sweet Letter! You said, you -know, that you were mad to see me, and that--it is almost too sacred -to repeat, even to YOU--that you would always love me. After that -Confession I refuse to agree that all is over. It can NEVER be over." - -"I daresay I am losing my mind," I said. "It all sounds perfectly -natural. But it doesn't mean anything. There CAN'T be any Harold -Valentine; because I made him up. But there is, so there must be. And I -am going crazy." - -"Look here," he stormed, suddenly quite raving, and throwing out his -right hand. It would have been terribly dramatic, only he had a glass of -punch in it. "I am not going to be played with. And you are not going to -jilt me without a reason. Do you mean to deny everything? Are you going -to say, for instance, that I never sent you any violets? Or gave you my -Photograph, with an--er--touching inscription on it?" Then, appealingly, -"You can't mean to deny that Photograph, Bab!" - -And then that lanky wretch of an Eddie Perkins brought me a toy balloon, -and I had to dance, with my heart crushed. - -Nevertheless, I ate a fair supper. I felt that I needed Strength. It was -quite a grown-up supper, with bullion and creamed chicken and baked ham -and sandwiches, among other things. But of course they had to show it -was a 'kid' party, after all. For instead of coffee we had milk. - -Milk! When I was going through a tragedy. For if it is not a tragedy -to be engaged to a man one never saw before, what is it? - -All through the refreshments I could feel that his eyes were on me. And -I hated him. It was all well enough for Jane to say he was handsome. She -wasn't going to have to marry him. I detest dimples in chins. I always -have. And anybody could see that it was his first mustache, and -soft, and that he took it round like a mother pushing a new baby in a -perambulator. It was sickening. - -I left just after supper. He did not see me when I went upstairs, but -he had missed me, for when Hannah and I came down, he was at the door, -waiting. Hannah was loaded down with silly favors, and lagged behind, -which gave him a chance to speak to me. I eyed him coldly and tried to -pass him, but I had no chance. - -"I'll see you tomorrow, DEAREST," he whispered. - -"Not if I can help it," I said, looking straight ahead. Hannah had -dropped a stocking--not her own. One of the Christmas favors--and was -fumbling about for it. - -"You are tired and unnerved to-night, Bab. When I have seen your father -tomorrow, and talked to him----" - -"Don't you dare to see my father." - -"----and when he has agreed to what I propose," he went on, without -paying any attention to what I had said, "you will be calmer. We can plan -things." - -Hannah came puffing up then, and he helped us into the motor. He was -very careful to see that we were covered with the robes, and he tucked -Hannah's feet in. She was awfully flattered. Old Fool! And she babbled -about him until I wanted to slap her. - -"He's a nice young man. Miss Bab," she said. "That is, if he's the One. -And he has nice manners. So considerate. Many a party I've taken your -sister to, and never before----" - -"I wish you'd shut up, Hannah," I said. "He's a pig, and I hate him." - -She sulked after that, and helped me out of my things at home without a -word. When I was in bed, however, and she was hanging up my clothes, she -said: - -"I don't know what's got into you, Miss Barbara. You are that cross that -there's no living with you." - -"Oh, go away," I said. - -"And what's more," she added, "I don't know but what your mother ought -to know about these goings on. You're only a little girl, with all your -high and mightiness, and there's going to be no scandal in this family -if I can help it." - -I put the bedclothes over my head, and she went out. - -But of course I could not sleep. Sis was not home yet, or mother, and I -went into Sis's room and got a novel from her table. It was the story of -a woman who had married a man in a hurry, and without really loving him, -and when she had been married a year, and hated the very way her husband -drank his coffee and cut the ends off his cigars, she found some one she -really loved with her whole heart. And it was too late. But she wrote -him one letter, the other man, you know, and it caused a lot of trouble. -So she said--I remember the very words-- - -"Half the troubles in the world are caused by letters. Emotions are -changeable things"--this was after she had found that she really loved -her husband after all, but he had had to shoot himself before she found -it out, although not fatally--"but the written word does not change. It -remains always, embodying a dead truth and giving it apparent life. No -woman should ever put her thoughts on paper." - -She got the letter back, but she had to steal it. And it turned out that -the other man had really only wanted her money all the time. - -That story was a real illumination to me. I shall have a great deal of -money when I am of age, from my grandmother. I saw it all. It was a trap -sure enough. And if I was to get out I would have to have the letter. - -IT WAS THE LETTER THAT PUT ME IN HIS POWER. - -The next day was Christmas. I got a lot of things, including the necklace, -and a mending basket from Sis, with the hope that it would make me -tidy, and father had bought me a set of silver fox, which mother -did not approve of, it being too expensive for a young girl to wear, -according to her. I must say that for an hour or two I was happy enough. - -But the afternoon was terrible. We keep open house on Xmas afternoon, -and father makes a champagne punch, and somebody pours tea, although -nobody drinks it, and there are little cakes from the club, and the -house is decorated with poinsettias. - -At eleven o'clock the mail came in, and mother sorted it over, while -father took a gold piece out to the post-man. - -There were about a million cards, and mother glanced at the addresses -and passed them round. But suddenly she frowned. There was a small -parcel, addressed to me. - -"This looks like a gift, Barbara," she said. And proceeded to open it. - -My heart skipped two beats, and then hammered. Mother's mouth was set as -she tore off the paper and opened the box. There was a card, which she -glanced at, and underneath, was a book of poems. - -"Love Lyrics," said mother, in a terrible voice. "To Barbara, from -H----" - -"Mother----" I began, in an earnest tone. - -"A child of mine receiving such a book from a man!" she went on. -"Barbara, I am speechless." - -But she was not speechless. If she was speechless for the next half -hour, I would hate to hear her really converse. And all that I could do -was to bear it. For I had made a Frankenstein--see the book read last -term by the Literary Society--not out of grave-yard fragments, but from -malted milk tablets, so to speak, and now it was pursuing me to an early -grave. For I felt that I simply could not continue to live. - -"Now--where does he live?" - -"I--don't know, mother." - -"You sent him a letter." - -"I don't know where he lives, anyhow." - -"Leila," mother said, "will you ask Hannah to bring my smelling salts?" - -"Aren't you going to give me the book?" I asked. "It--it sounds -interesting." - -"You are shameless," mother said, and threw the thing into the fire. A -good many of my things seemed to be going into the fire at that time. I -cannot help wondering what they would have done if it had all happened -in the summer, and no fires burning. They would have felt quite -helpless, I imagine. - -Father came back just then, but he did not see the book, which was then -blazing with a very hot red flame. I expected mother to tell him, and I -daresay I should not have been surprised to see my furs follow the book. -I had got into the way of expecting to see things burning that do not -belong in a fireplace. But mother did not tell him. - - -I have thought over this a great deal, and I believe that now I -understand. Mother was unjustly putting the blame for everything on this -School, and mother had chosen the School. My father had not been much -impressed by the catalog. "Too much dancing room and not enough tennis -courts," he had said. This, of course, is my father's opinion. Not mine. - -The real reason, then, for mother's silence was that she disliked -confessing that she made a mistake in her choice of a School. - -I ate very little luncheon and my only comfort was my seed pearls. I was -wearing them, for fear the door-bell would ring, and a letter or flowers -would arrive from H. In that case I felt quite sure that someone, in a -frenzy, would burn the pearls also. - -The afternoon was terrible. It rained solid sheets, and Patrick, the -butler, gave notice three hours after he had received his Christmas -presents, on account of not being let off for early mass. - -But my father's punch is famous, and people came, and stood around and -buzzed, and told me I had grown and was almost a young lady. And Tommy -Gray got out of his cradle and came to call on me, and coughed all the -time, with a whoop. He developed the whooping cough later. He had on his -first long trousers, and a pair of lavender socks and a tie to match. He -said they were not exactly the same shade, but he did not think it would -be noticed. Hateful child! - -At half past five, when the place was jammed, I happened to look up. -Carter Brooks was in the hall, and behind him was H. He had seen me -before I saw him, and he had a sort of sickly grin, meant to denote -joy. I was talking to our bishop at the time, and he was asking me what -sort of services we had in the school chapel. - -I meant to say "non-sectarian," but in my surprise and horror I regret -to say that I said, "vegetarian." Carter Brooks came over to me like a -cat to a saucer of milk, and pulled me off into a corner. - -"It's all right," he said. "I phoned mama, and she said to bring him. -He's known as Grosvenor here, of course. They'll never suspect a thing. -Now, do I get a small 'thank you'?" - -"I won't see him." - -"Now look here, Bab," he protested, "you two have got to make this thing -up You are a pair of idiots, quarreling over nothing. Poor old Hal is -all broken up. He's sensitive. You've got to remember how sensitive he -is." - -"Go, away" I cried, in broken tones. "Go away, and take him with you." - -"Not until he had spoken to your Father," he observed, setting his jaw. -"He's here for that, and you know it. You can't play fast and loose with -a man, you know." - -"Don't you dare to let him speak to father!" - -He shrugged his shoulders. - -"That's between you two, of course," he said. "It's not up to me. Tell -him yourself, if you've changed your mind. I don't intend," he went on, -impressively, "to have any share in ruining his life." - -"Oh piffle," I said. I am aware that this is slang, and does not belong -in a theme. But I was driven to saying it. - -I got through the crowd by using my elbows. I am afraid I gave -the bishop quite a prod, and I caught Mr. Andrews on his rotating -waistcoat. But I was desperate. - -Alas, I was too late. - -The caterer's man, who had taken Patrick's place in a hurry, was at the -punch bowl, and father was gone. I was just in time to see him take H. -into his library and close the door. - -Here words fail me. I knew perfectly well that beyond that door H, whom -I had invented and who therefore simply did not exist, was asking for my -hand. I made up my mind at once to run away and go on the stage, and -I had even got part way up the stairs, when I remembered that, with -a dollar for the picture and five dollars for the violets and three -dollars for the hat pin I had given Sis, and two dollars and a quarter -for mother's handkerchief case, I had exactly a dollar and seventy-five -cents in the world. - -I WAS TRAPPED. - -I went up to my room, and sat and waited. Would father be violent, and -throw H. out and then come upstairs, pale with fury and disinherit me? -Or would the whole family conspire together, when the people had gone, -and send me to a convent? I made up my mind, if it was the convent, to -take the veil and be a nun. I would go to nurse lepers, or something, -and then, when it was too late, they would be sorry. - -The stage or the convent, nun or actress? Which? - -I left the door open, but there was only the sound of revelry below. -I felt then that it was to be the convent. I pinned a towel around my -face, the way the nuns wear whatever they call them, and from the side -it was very becoming. I really did look like Julia Marlowe, especially as -my face was very sad and tragic. - -At something before seven every one had gone, and I heard Sis and mother -come upstairs to dress for dinner. I sat and waited, and when I heard -father I got cold all over. But he went on by, and I heard him go into -mother's room and close the door. Well, I knew I had to go through with -it, although my life was blasted. So I dressed and went downstairs. - -Father was the first down. HE CAME DOWN WHISTLING. - -It is perfectly true. I could not believe my ears. - -He approached me with a smiling face. - -"Well, Bab," he said, exactly as if nothing had happened, "have you had -a nice day?" - -He had the eyes of a basilisk, that creature of fable. - -"I've had a lovely day, Father," I replied. I could be basilisk-ish -also. - -There is a mirror over the drawing room mantle, and he turned me around -until we both faced it. - -"Up to my ears," he said, referring to my height. "And lovers already! -Well, I daresay we must make up our minds to lose you." - -"I won't be lost," I declared, almost violently. "Of course, if you -intend to shove me off your hands, to the first idiot who comes along -and pretends a lot of stuff, I----" - -"My dear child!" said father, looking surprised. "Such an outburst! All -I was trying to say, before your mother comes down, is that I--well, -that I understand and that I shall not make my little girl unhappy -by--er--by breaking her heart." - -"Just what do you mean by that, father?" - -He looked rather uncomfortable, being one who hates to talk sentiment. - -"It's like this, Barbara," he said. "If you want to marry this young -man--and you have made it very clear that you do--I am going to see that -you do it. You are young, of course, but after all your dear mother was -not much older than you are when I married her." - -"Father!" I cried, from an over-flowing heart. - -"I have noticed that you are not happy, Barbara," he said. "And I shall -not thwart you, or allow you to be thwarted. In affairs of the heart, -you are to have your own way." - -"I want to tell you something!" I cried. "I will NOT be cast off! I----" - -"Tut, tut," said Father. "Who is casting you off? I tell you that I -like the young man, and give you my blessing, or what is the present-day -equivalent for it, and you look like a figure of tragedy!" - -But I could endure no more. My own father had turned on me and was -rending me, so to speak. With a breaking heart and streaming eyes I flew -to my chamber. - -There, for hours I paced the floor. - -Never, I determined, would I marry H. Better death, by far. He was a -scheming fortune-hunter, but to tell the family that was to confess all. -And I would never confess. I would run away before I gave Sis such a -chance at me. I would run away, but first I would kill Carter Brooks. - -Yes, I was driven to thoughts of murder. It shows how the first false -step leads down and down, to crime and even to death. Oh never, never, -gentle reader, take that first false step. Who knows to what it may -lead! - -"One false Step is never retrieved." Gray--On a Favorite Cat. - -I reflected also on how the woman in the book had ruined her life with -a letter. "The written word does not change," she had said. "It remains -always, embodying a dead truth and giving it apparent life." - -"Apparent life" was exactly what my letter had given to H. Frankenstein. -That was what I called him, in my agony. I felt that if only I had never -written the Letter there would have been no trouble. And another awful -thought came to me: Was there an H after all? Could there be an H? - -Once the French teacher had taken us to the theater in New York, and a -woman sitting on a chair and covered with a sheet, had brought a man out -of a perfectly empty cabinet, by simply willing to do it. The cabinet -was empty, for four respectable looking men went up and examined it, and -one even measured it with a Tape-measure. - -She had materialized him, out of nothing. - -And while I had had no cabinet, there are many things in this world -"that we do not dream of in our philosophy." Was H. a real person, or -a creature of my disordered brain? In plain and simple language, COULD -THERE BE SUCH A PERSON? - -I feared not. - -And if there was no H, really, and I married him, where would I be? - -There was a ball at the Club that night, and the family all went. No -one came to say good-night to me, and by half past ten I was alone with -my misery. I knew Carter Brooks would be at the ball, and H also, very -likely, dancing around as agreeably as if he really existed, and I had -not made him up. - -I got the book from Sis's room again, and re-read it. The woman in it -had been in great trouble, too, with her husband cleaning his revolver -and making his will. And at last she had gone to the apartments of the -man who had her letters, in a taxicab covered with a heavy veil, and had -got them back. He had shot himself when she returned--the husband--but -she burned the letters and then called a doctor, and he was saved. Not -the doctor, of course. The husband. - -The villain's only hold on her had been the letters, so he went to South -Africa and was gored by an elephant, thus passing out of her life. - -Then and there I knew that I would have to get my letter back from H. -Without it he was powerless. The trouble was that I did not know where -he was staying. Even if he came out of a cabinet, the cabinet would have -to be somewhere, would it not? - -I felt that I would have to meet guile with guile. And to steal one's own -letter is not really stealing. Of course if he was visiting any one and -pretending to be a real person, I had no chance in the world. But if he -was stopping at a hotel I thought I could manage. The man in the book -had had an apartment, with a Japanese servant, who went away and drew -plans of American forts in the kitchen and left the woman alone with the -desk containing the letter. But I daresay that was unusually lucky and -not the sort of thing to look forward to. - -With me, to think is to act. Hannah was out, it being Christmas and her -brother-in-law having a wake, being dead, so I was free to do anything I -wanted to. - -First I called the club and got Carter Brooks on the telephone. - -"Carter," I said, "I--I am writing a letter. Where is--where does H. -stay?" - -"Who?" - -"H.--Mr. Grosvenor." - -"Why, bless your ardent little heart! Writing, are you? It's sublime, -Bab!" - -"Where does he live?" - -"And is it all alone you are, on Christmas Night!" he burbled. (This is a -word from Alice in Wonder Land, and although not in the dictionary, is -quite expressive.) - -"Yes," I replied, bitterly. "I am old enough to be married off without -my consent, but I am not old enough for a real Ball. It makes me sick." - -"I can smuggle him here, if you want to talk to him." - -"Smuggle!" I said, with scorn. "There is no need to smuggle him. The -family is crazy about him. They are flinging me at him." - -"Well, that's nice," he said. "Who'd have thought it! Shall I bring him -to the 'phone?" - -"I don't want to talk to him. I hate him." - -"Look here," he observed, "if you keep that up, he'll begin to believe -you. Don't take these little quarrels too hard, Barbara. He's so happy -to-night in the thought that you----" - -"Does he live in a cabinet, or where?" - -"In a what? I don't get that word." - -"Don't bother. Where shall I send his letter?" - -Well, it seemed he had an apartment at the arcade, and I rang off. It -was after eleven by that time, and by the time I had got into my school -mackintosh and found a heavy veil of mother's and put it on, it was -almost half past. - -The house was quiet, and as Patrick had gone, there was no one around in -the lower hall. I slipped out and closed the door behind me, and -looked for a taxicab, but the veil was so heavy that I hailed our own -limousine, and Smith had drawn up at the curb before I knew him. - -"Where to, lady?" he said. "This is a private car, but I'll take you -anywhere in the city for a dollar." - -A flush of just indignation rose to my cheek, at the knowledge that -Smith was using our car for a taxicab! And just as I was about to speak -to him severely, and threaten to tell father, I remembered, and walked -away. - -"Make it seventy-five cents," he called after me. But I went on. It was -terrible to think that Smith could go on renting our car to all sorts of -people, covered with germs and everything, and that I could never report -it to the family. - -I got a real taxi at last, and got out at the arcade, giving the man a -quarter, although ten cents would have been plenty as a tip. - -I looked at him, and I felt that he could be trusted. - -"This," I said, holding up the money, "is the price of silence." - -But if he was trustworthy he was not subtle, and he said: - -"The what, miss?" - -"If any one asks if you have driven me here, YOU HAVE NOT" I explained, -in an impressive manner. - -He examined the quarter, even striking a match to look at it. Then he -replied: "I have not!" and drove away. - -Concealing my nervousness as best I could, I entered the doomed -building. There was only a hall boy there, asleep in the elevator, and -I looked at the thing with the names on it. "Mr. Grosvenor" was on the -fourth floor. - -I wakened the boy, and he yawned and took me to the fourth floor. My -hands were stiff with nervousness by that time, but the boy was half -asleep, and evidently he took me for some one who belonged there, for -he said "Goodnight" to me, and went on down. There was a square landing -with two doors, and "Grosvenor" was on one. I tried it gently. It was -unlocked. - -"FACILUS DESCENSUS IN AVERNU." - -I am not defending myself. What I did was the result of desperation. -But I cannot even write of my sensations as I stepped through that fatal -portal, without a sinking of the heart. I had, however, had sufficient -foresight to prepare an alibi. In case there was someone present in the -apartment I intended to tell a falsehood, I regret to confess, and to say -that I had got off at the wrong floor. - -There was a sort of hall, with a clock and a table, and a shaded -electric lamp, and beyond that the door was open into a sitting room. - -There was a small light burning there, and the remains of a wood fire in -the fireplace. There was no cabinet however. - -Everything was perfectly quiet, and I went over to the fire and warmed -my hands. My nails were quite blue, but I was strangely calm. I took off -mother's veil, and my mackintosh, so I would be free to work, and I then -looked around the room. There were a number of photographs of rather -smart looking girls, and I curled my lip scornfully. He might have -fooled them but he could not deceive me. And it added to my bitterness -to think that at that moment the villain was dancing--and flirting -probably--while I was driven to actual theft to secure the letter that -placed me in his power. - -When I had stopped shivering I went to his desk. There were a lot of -letters on the top, all addressed to him as Grosvenor. It struck me -suddenly as strange that if he was only visiting, under an assumed name, -in order to see me, that so many people should be writing to him as Mr. -Grosvenor. And it did not look like the room of a man who was visiting, -unless he took a freight car with him on his travels. - -THERE WAS A MYSTERY. All at once I knew it. - -My letter was not on the desk, so I opened the top drawer. It seemed to -be full of bills, and so was the one below it. I had just started on the -third drawer, when a terrible thing happened. - -"Hello!" said some one behind me. - -I turned my head slowly, and my heart stopped. - -THE PORTERES INTO THE PASSAGE HAD OPENED, AND A GENTLEMAN IN HIS EVENING -CLOTHES WAS STANDING THERE. - -"Just sit still, please," he said, in a perfectly cold voice. And he -turned and locked the door into the hall. I was absolutely unable to -speak. I tried once, but my tongue hit the roof of my mouth like the -clapper of a bell. - -"Now," he said, when he had turned around. "I wish you would tell me -some good reason why I should not hand you over to the police." - -"Oh, please don't!" I said. - -"That's eloquent. But not a reason. I'll sit down and give you a little -time. I take it, you did not expect to find me here." - -"I'm in the wrong apartment. That's all," I said. "Maybe you'll think -that's an excuse and not a reason. I can't help it if you do." - -"Well," he said, "that explains some things. It's pretty well known, I -fancy, that I have little worth stealing, except my good name." - -"I was not stealing," I replied in a sulky manner. - -"I beg your pardon," he said. "It IS an ugly word. We will strike it -from the record. Would you mind telling me whose apartment you intended -to--er--investigate? If this is the wrong one, you know." - -"I was looking for a letter." - -"Letters, letters!" he said. "When will you women learn not to write -letters. Although"--he looked at me closely--"you look rather young for -that sort of thing." He sighed. "It's born in you, I daresay," he said. - -Well, for all his patronizing ways, he was not very old himself. - -"Of course," he said, "if you are telling the truth--and it sounds -fishy, I must say--it's hardly a police matter, is it? It's rather one -for diplomacy. But can you prove what you say?" - -"My word should be sufficient," I replied stiffly. "How do I know that -YOU belong here?" - -"Well, you don't, as a matter of fact. Suppose you take my word for -that, and I agree to believe what you say about the wrong apartment, -Even then it's rather unusual. I find a pale and determined looking -young lady going through my desk in a business-like manner. She says she -has come for a letter. Now the question is, is there a letter? If so, -what letter?" - -"It is a love letter," I said. - -"Don't blush over such a confession," he said. "If it is true, be proud -of it. Love is a wonderful thing. Never be ashamed of being in love, my -child." - -"I am not in love," I cried with bitter fury. - -"Ah! Then it is not YOUR letter!" - -"I wrote it." - -"But to simulate a passion that does not exist--that is sacrilege. It -is----" - -"Oh, stop talking," I cried, in a hunted tone. "I can't bear it. If you -are going to arrest me, get it over." - -"I'd rather NOT arrest you, if we can find a way out. You look so young, -so new to crime! Even your excuse for being here is so naive, that -I--won't you tell me why you wrote a love letter, if you are not in -love? And whom you sent it to? That's important, you see, as it bears -on the case. I intend," he said, "to be judicial, unimpassioned, and -quite fair." - -"I wrote a love letter" I explained, feeling rather cheered, "but it was -not intended for any one, Do you see? It was just a love letter." - -"Oh," he said. "Of course. It is often done. And after that?" - -"Well, it had to go somewhere. At least I felt that way about it. So I -made up a name from some malted milk tablets----" - -"Malted milk tablets!" he said, looking bewildered. - -"Just as I was thinking up a name to send it to," I explained, -"Hannah--that's mother's maid, you know--brought in some hot milk and -some malted milk tablets, and I took the name from them." - -"Look here," he said, "I'm unprejudiced and quite calm, but isn't the -'mother's maid' rather piling it on?" - -"Hannah is mother's maid, and she brought in the milk and the tablets, -I should think," I said, growing sarcastic, "that so far it is clear to -the dullest mind." - -"Go on," he said, leaning back and closing his eyes. "You named the -letter for your mother's maid--I mean for the malted milk. Although you -have not yet stated the name you chose; I never heard of any one named -Milk, and as to the other, while I have known some rather thoroughly -malted people--however, let that go." - -"Valentine's tablets," I said. "Of course, you understand," I said, -bending forward, "there was no such person. I made him up. The Harold -was made up too--Harold Valentine." - -"I see. Not clearly, perhaps, but I have a gleam of intelligence." - -"But, after all, there was such a person. That's clear, isn't it? And -now he considers that we are engaged, and--and he insists on marrying -me." - -"That," he said, "is really easy to understand. I don't blame him at all. -He is clearly a person of discernment." - -"Of course," I said bitterly, "you would be on HIS side. Every one is." - -"But the point is this," he went on. "If you made him up out of the -whole cloth, as it were, and there was no such person, how can there -be such a person? I am merely asking to get it all clear in my head. It -sounds so reasonable when you say it, but there seems to be something -left out." - -"I don't know how he can be, but he is," I said, hopelessly. "And he is -exactly like his picture." - -"Well, that's not unusual, you know." - -"It is in this case. Because I bought the picture in a shop, and just -pretended it was him. (He?) And it WAS." - -He got up and paced the floor. - -"It's a very strange case," he said. "Do you mind if I light a -cigarette? It helps to clear my brain. What was the name you gave him?" - -"Harold Valentine. But he is here under another name, because of my -family. They think I am a mere child, you see, and so of course he took -a NOM DE PLUME." - -"A NOM DE PLUME? Oh I see! What is it?" - -"Grosvenor," I said. "The same as yours." - -"There's another Grosvenor in the building, That's where the trouble -came in, I suppose, Now let me get this straight. You wrote a letter, -and somehow or other he got it, and now you want it back. Stripped of -the things that baffle my intelligence, that's it, isn't it?" - -I rose in excitement. - -"Then, if he lives in the building, the letter is probably here. Why -can't you go and get it for me?" - -"Very neat! And let you slip away while I am gone?" - -I saw that he was still uncertain that I was telling him the truth. It -was maddening. And only the Letter itself could convince him. - -"Oh, please try to get it," I cried, almost weeping. "You can lock me in -here, if you are afraid I will run away. And he is out. I know he is. He -is at the club ball." - -"Naturally," he said "the fact that you are asking me to compound a -felony, commit larceny, and be an accessory after the fact does not -trouble you. As I told you before, all I have left is my good name, and -now----!" - -"Please!" I said. - -He stared down at me. - -"Certainly," he said. "Asked in that tone, murder would be one of the -easiest things I do. But I shall lock you in." - -"Very well," I said meekly. And after I had described it--the letter--to -him he went out. - -I had won, but my triumph was but sackcloth and ashes in my mouth. I had -won, but at what a cost! Ah, how I wished that I might live again the -past few days! That I might never have started on my path of deception! -Or that, since my intentions at the start had been so innocent, I had -taken another photograph at the shop, which I had fancied considerably -but had heartlessly rejected because of no mustache. - -He was gone for a long time, and I sat and palpitated. For what if H. -had returned early and found him and called in the police? - -But the latter had not occurred, for at ten minutes after one he came -back, entering by the window from a fire-escape, and much streaked with -dirt. - -"Narrow escape, dear child!" he observed, locking the window and drawing -the shade. "Just as I got it, your--er--gentleman friend returned and -fitted his key in the lock. I am not at all sure," he said, wiping his -hands with his handkerchief, "that he will not regard the open window -as a suspicious circumstance. He may be of a low turn of mind. However, -all's well that ends here in this room. Here it is." - -I took it, and my heart gave a great leap of joy. I was saved. - -"Now," he said, "we'll order a taxicab and get you home. And while it is -coming suppose you tell me the thing over again. It's not as clear to me -as it ought to be, even now." - -So then I told him--about not being out yet, and Sis having flowers sent -her, and her room done over, and never getting to bed until dawn. -And that they treated me like a mere child, which was the reason for -everything, and about the poem, which he considered quite good. And then -about the letter. - -"I get the whole thing a bit clearer now," he said. "Of course, it -is still cloudy in places. The making up somebody to write to is -understandable, under the circumstances. But it is odd to have had the -very person materialize, so to speak. It makes me wonder--well, how -about burning the letter, now we've got it? It would be better, I think. -The way things have been going with you, if we don't destroy it, it is -likely to walk off into somebody else's pocket and cause more trouble." - -So we burned it, and then the telephone rang and said the taxi was -there. - -"I'll get my coat and be ready in a jiffy," he said, "and maybe we can -smuggle you into the house and no one the wiser. We'll try anyhow." - -He went into the other room and I sat by the fire and thought. You -remember that when I was planning Harold Valentine, I had imagined him -with a small, dark mustache, and deep, passionate eyes? Well, this -Mr. Grosvenor had both, or rather, all three. And he had the loveliest -smile, with no dimple. He was, I felt, exactly the sort of man I could -die for. - -It was too tragic that, with all the world to choose from, I had not -taken him instead of H. - -We walked downstairs, so as not to give the elevator boy a chance to -talk, he said. But he was asleep again, and we got to the street and to -the taxicab without being seen. - -Oh, I was very cheerful. When I think of it--but I might have known, all -along. Nothing went right with me that week. - -Just before we got to the house he said: - -"Goodnight and goodbye, little Barbara. I'll never forget you and this -evening. And save me a dance at your coming-out party. I'll be there." - -I held out my hand, and he took it and kissed it. It was all perfectly -thrilling. And then we drew up in front of the house and he helped me -out, and my entire family had just got out of the motor and was lined -up on the pavement staring at us! - -"All right, are you?" he said, as coolly as if they had not been -anywhere in sight. "Well, good night and good luck!" And he got into the -taxicab and drove away, leaving me in the hands of the enemy. - -The next morning I was sent back to school. They never gave me a chance -to explain, for mother went into hysterics, after accusing me of having -men dangling around waiting at every corner. They had to have a doctor, -and things were awful. - -The only person who said anything was Sis. She came to my room that -night when I was in bed, and stood looking down at me. She was very -angry, but there was a sort of awe in her eyes. - -"My hat's off to you, Barbara," she said. "Where in the world do you -pick them all up? Things must have changed at school since I was there." - -"I'm sick to death of the other sex," I replied languidly. "It's no -punishment to send me away. I need a little piece and quiet." And I did. - - -CONCLUSION: - -All this holiday week, while the girls are away, I have been writing -this theme, for literature class. To-day is New Years and I am putting -in the finishing touches. I intend to have it typed in the village and -to send a copy to father, who I think will understand, and another copy, -but with a few lines cut, to Mr. Grosvenor. The nice one. There were -some things he did not quite understand, and this will explain. - -I shall also send a copy to Carter Brooks, who came out handsomely with -an apology this morning in a letter and a ten pound box of candy. - -His letter explains everything. H. is a real person and did not come -out of a cabinet. Carter recognized the photograph as being one of a -Mr. Grosvenor he went to college with, who had gone on the stage and -was playing in a stock company at home. Only they were not playing -Christmas week, as business, he says, is rotten then. When he saw me -writing the letter he felt that it was all a bluff, especially as he had -seen me sending myself the violets at the florists. - -So he got Mr. Grosvenor, the blonde one, to pretend he was Harold -Valentine. Only things slipped up. I quote from Carter's letter: - - -"He's a bully chap, Bab, and he went into it for a lark, roses and poems -and all. But when he saw that you took it rather hard, he felt it wasn't -square. He went to your father to explain and apologized, but your -father seemed to think you needed a lesson. He's a pretty good sport, -your father. And he said to let it go on for a day or two. A little -worry wouldn't hurt you." - - -However, I do not call it being a good sport to see one's daughter -perfectly wretched and do nothing to help. And more than that, to -willfully permit one's child to suffer, and enjoy it. - -But it was father, after all, who got the jolt, I think, when he saw me -get out of the taxicab. - -Therefore I will not explain, for a time. A little worry will not hurt -him either. - -I will not send him his copy for a week. - -Perhaps, after all, I will give him something to worry about eventually. -For I have received a box of roses, with no card, but a pen and ink -drawing of a gentleman in evening clothes crawling onto a fire-escape -through an open window. He has dropped his heart, and it is two floors -below. - -My narrative has now come to a conclusion, and I will close with a few -reflections drawn from my own sad and tragic Experience. I trust the -girls of this school will ponder and reflect. - -Deception is a very sad thing. It starts very easy, and without warning, -and everything seems to be going all right, and no rocks ahead. When -suddenly the breakers loom up, and your frail vessel sinks, with you on -board, and maybe your dear ones, dragged down with you. - - Oh, what a tangled Web we weave, - When first we practice to deceive. - Sir Walter Scott. - - - - -CHAPTER II. THEME: THE CELEBRITY - - -We have been requested to write, during this vacation, a true and -veracious account of a meeting with any celebrity we happened to meet -during the summer. If no celebrity, any interesting character would do, -excepting one's own family. - -But as one's own family is neither celebrated nor interesting, there is -no temptation to write about it. - -As I met Mr. Reginald Beecher this summer, I have chosen him as my -subject. - -Brief history of the Subject: He was born in 1890 at Woodbury, N. J. -Attended public high schools, and in 1910 graduated from Princeton -University. - -Following year produced first Play in New York, called Her Soul. -Followed this by the Soul Mate, and this by The Divorce. - -Description of Subject. Mr. Beecher is tall and slender, and wears a -very small dark Mustache. Although but twenty-six years of age, his hair -on close inspection reveals here and there a silver thread. His teeth -are good, and his eyes amber, with small flecks of brown in them. He has -been vaccinated twice. - -It has always been one of my chief ambitions to meet a celebrity. On one -or two occasions we have had them at school, but they never sit at the -Junior's table. Also, they are seldom connected with either the Drama -or The Movies (a slang term but apparently taking a place in our -literature). - -It was my intention, on being given this subject for my midsummer theme, -to seek out Mrs. Bainbridge, a lady author who has a cottage across the -bay from ours, and to ask the privilege of sitting at her feet for a few -hours, basking in the sunshine of her presence, and learning from her -own lips her favorite Flower, her favorite Poem and the favorite child -of her brain. - - Of all those arts in which the wise excel, - Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well. - Duke of Buckingham - -I had meant to write my theme on her, but I learned in time that she -was forty years of age. Her work is therefore done. She has passed her -active years, and I consider that it is not the past of American Letters -which is at stake, but the future. Besides, I was more interested in the -drama than in literature. - -Possibly it is owing to the fact that the girls think I resemble Julia -Marlowe, that from my earliest years my mind has been turned toward the -stage. I am very determined and fixed in my ways, and with me to decide -to do a thing is to decide to do it. I am not of a romantic nature, -however, and as I learned of the dangers of the theater, I drew back. -Even a strong nature, such as mine is, on occasions, can be influenced. -I therefore decided to change my plans, and to write plays instead of -acting in them. - -At first I meant to write comedies, but as I realized the gravity -of life, and its bitterness and disappointments, I turned naturally to -tragedy. Surely, as dear Shakespeare says: - - The world is a stage - Where every man must play a part, - And mine a sad one. - -This explains my sincere interest in Mr. Beecher. His works were all -realistic and sad. I remember that I saw the first one three years ago, -when a mere child, and became violently ill from crying and had to be -taken home. - -The school will recall that last year I wrote a play, patterned on The -Divorce, and that only a certain narrowness of view on the part of the -faculty prevented it being the class play. If I may be permitted to -express an opinion, we of the class of 1917 are not children, and should -not be treated as such. - -Encouraged by the applause of my class-mates, and feeling that I was of -a more serious turn of mind than most of them, who seem to think of -pleasure only, I decided to write a play during the summer. I would -thus be improving my vacation hours, and, I considered, keeping out of -mischief. It was pure idleness which had caused my trouble during the -last Christmas holidays. How true it is that the devil finds work for -idle hands! - -With a play and this theme I believed that the devil would give me up as -a total loss, and go elsewhere. - -How little we can read the future! - -I now proceed to an account of my meeting and acquaintance with Mr. -Beecher. It is my intention to conceal nothing. I can only comfort -myself with the thought that my motives were innocent, and that I was -obeying orders and securing material for a theme. I consider that the -attitude of my family is wrong and cruel, and that my sister Leila, -being only 20 months older, although out in society, has no need to -write me the sort of letters she has been writing. Twenty months is -twenty months, and not two years, although she seems to think it is. - -I returned home full of happy plans for my vacation. When I look back it -seems strange that the gay and innocent young girl of the train can have -been! So much that is tragic has since happened. If I had not had a -cinder in my eye things would have been different. But why repine? Fate -frequently hangs thus on a single hair--an eye-lash, as one may say. - -Father met me at the train. I had got the aforementioned cinder in my -eye, and a very nice young man had taken it out for me. I still cannot -see what harm there was in our chatting together after that, especially as -we said nothing to object to. But father looked very disagreeable about -it, and the young man went away in a hurry. But it started us off wrong, -although I got him--father--to promise not to tell mother. - -"I do wish you would be more careful, Bab," he said with a sort of sigh. - -"Careful!" I said. "Then it's not doing things, but being found out, -that matters!" - -"Careful in your conduct, Bab." - -"He was a beautiful young man, father," I observed, slipping my arm -through his. - -"Barbara, Barbara! Your poor mother----" - -"Now look here, father" I said. "If it was mother who was interested in -him it might be troublesome. But it is only me. And I warn you, here and -now, that I expect to be thrilled at the sight of a nice young man right -along. It goes up my back and out the roots of my hair." - -Well, my father is a real person, so he told me to talk sense, and gave -me twenty dollars, and agreed to say nothing about the young man to -mother, if I would root for Canada against the Adirondacks for the -summer, because of the fishing. - -Mother was waiting in the hall for me, but she held me off with both -hands. - -"Not until you have bathed and changed your clothing, Barbara," she -said. "I have never had it." - -She meant the whooping cough. The school will recall the epidemic which -ravaged us last June, and changed us from a peaceful institution to what -sounded like a dog show. - -Well, I got the same old room, not much fixed up, but they had put up -different curtains anyhow, thank goodness. I had been hinting all spring -for new furniture, but my family does not take a hint unless it is -chloroformed first, and I found the same old stuff there. - -They believe in waiting until a girl makes her debut before giving her -anything but the necessities of life. - -Sis was off for a week-end, but Hannah was there, and I kissed her. Not -that I'm so fond of her, but I had to kiss somebody. - -"Well, Miss Barbara!" she said. "How you've grown!" - -That made me rather sore, because I am not a child any longer, but they -all talk to me as if I were but six years old, and small for my age. - -"I've stopped growing, Hannah," I said, with dignity. "At least, almost. -But I see I still draw the nursery." - -Hannah was opening my suitcase, and she looked up and said: "I tried to -get you the blue room, Miss Bab. But Miss Leila said she needed it for -house parties." - -"Never mind," I said. "I don't care anything about furniture. I have -other things to think about, Hannah; I want the school room desk up -here." - -"Desk!" she said, with her jaw drooping. - -"I am writing now," I said. "I need a lot of ink, and paper, and a good -lamp. Let them keep the blue room, Hannah, for their selfish purposes. I -shall be happy in my work. I need nothing more." - -"Writing!" said Hannah. "Is it a book you're writing?" - -"A play." - -"Listen to the child! A play!" - -I sat on the edge of the bed. - -"Listen, Hannah," I said. "It is not what is outside of us that matters. -It is what is inside. It is what we are, not what we eat, or look like, -or wear. I have given up everything, Hannah, to my career." - -"You're young yet," said Hannah. "You used to be fond enough of the -boys." - -Hannah has been with us for years, so she gets rather talky at times, -and has to be sat upon. - -"I care nothing whatever for the Other Sex," I replied haughtily. - -She was opening my suitcase at the time, and I was surveying the chamber -which was to be the seen of my Literary Life, at least for some time. - -"Now and then," I said to Hannah, "I shall read you parts of it. Only -you mustn't run and tell mother." - -"Why not?" said she, peering into the Suitcase. - -"Because I intend to deal with Life," I said. "I shall deal with real -Things, and not the way we think them. I am young, but I have thought a -great deal. I shall mince nothing." - -"Look here, Miss Barbara," Hannah said, all at once, "what are you doing -with this whiskey flask? And these socks? And--you come right here, and -tell me where you got the things in this suitcase." I stocked over to -the bed, and my blood froze in my veins. IT WAS NOT MINE. - -Words cannot fully express how I felt. While fully convinced that there -had been a mistake, I knew not when or how. Hannah was staring at me -with cold and accusing eyes. - -"You're a very young lady, Miss Barbara," she said, with her eyes full -of Suspicion, "to be carrying a flask about with you." I was as puzzled -as she was, but I remained calm and to all appearances Spartan. - -"I am young in years," I remarked. "But I have seen Life, Hannah." - -Now I meant nothing by this at the time. But it was getting on my nerves -to be put in the infant class all the time. The Christmas before they had -done it, and I had had my revenge. Although it had hurt me more than it -hurt them, and if I gave them a fright I gave myself a worse one. As I -said at that time: - - Oh, what a tangled web we weave, - When first we practice to deceive. - Sir Walter Scott. - -Hannah gave me a horrified glare, and dipped into the suitcase again. -She brought up a tin box of cigarettes, and I thought she was going to -have delirium tremens at once. - -Well, at first I thought the girls at school had played a trick on me, -and a low down mean trick at that. There are always those who think it -is funny to do that sort of thing, but they are the first to squeal when -anything is done to them. Once I put a small garter snake in a girl's -muff, and it went up her sleeve, which is nothing to some of the things -she had done to me. And you would have thought the school was on fire. - -Anyhow, I said to myself that some Smarty was trying to get me into -trouble, and Hannah would run to the family, and they'd never believe -me. All at once I saw all my cherished plans for the summer gone, and -me in the country somewhere with Mademoiselle, and walking through the -pasture with a botany in one hand and a folding cup in the other, in -case we found a spring a cow had not stepped in. Mademoiselle was -once my Governess, but has retired to private life, except in cases of -emergency. - -I am naturally very quick in mind. The Archibalds are all like that, and -when once we decide on a course we stick to it through thick and -thin. But we do not lie. It is ridiculous for Hannah to say I said the -cigarettes were mine. All I said was: - -"I suppose you are going to tell the family. You'd better run, or -you'll burst." - -"Oh, Miss Barbara, Miss Barbara!" she said. "And you so young to be so -wild!" - -This was unjust, and I am one to resent injustice. I had returned home -with my mind fixed on serious things, and now I was being told I was -wild. - -"If I tell your mother she'll have a fit," Hannah said, evidently drawn -hither and thither by emotion. "Now see here, Miss Bab, you've just -come home, and there was trouble at your last vacation that I'm like to -remember to my dying day. You tell me how those things got there, like -a good girl, and I'll say nothing about them." - -I am naturally sweet in disposition, but to call me a good girl and -remind me of last Christmas holidays was too much. My natural firmness came -to the front. - -"Certainly NOT," I said. - -"You needn't stick your lip out at me, Miss Bab, that was only giving -you a chance, and forgetting my duty to help you, not to mention -probably losing my place when the family finds out." - -"Finds out what?" - -"What you've been up to, the stage, and writing plays, and now liquor -and tobacco!" - -Now I may be at fault in the narrative that follows. But I ask the school -if this was fair treatment. I had returned to my home full of high -ideals, only to see them crushed beneath the heal of domestic tyranny. - - Necessity is the argument of tyrants; - it is the creed of slaves. - William Pitt. - -How true are these immortal words. - -It was with a firm countenance but a sinking heart that I saw Hannah -leave the room. I had come home inspired with lofty ambition, and it -had ended thus. Heart-broken, I wandered to the bedside, and let my eyes -fall on the suitcase, the container of all my woe. - -Well, I was surprised, all right. It was not and never had been mine. -Instead of my blue serge sailor suit and my 'robe de nuit' and kimono -etc., it contained a checked gentleman's suit, a mussed shirt and a cap. -At first I was merely astonished. Then a sense of loss overpowered me. -I suffered. I was prostrated with grief. Not that I cared a rap for -the clothes I'd lost, being most of them to small and patched here and -there. But I had lost the plot of my play. My career was gone. - -I was undone. - -It may be asked what has this recital to do with the account of meeting -a celebrity. I reply that it has a great deal to do with it. A bare -recital of a meeting may be news, but it is not art. - -A theme consists of Introduction, Body and Conclusion. - -This is still the Introduction. - -When I was at last revived enough to think I knew what had happened. The -young man who took the cinder out of my eye had come to sit beside -me, which I consider was merely kindness on his part and nothing like -flirting, and he had brought his suitcase over, and they had got mixed -up. But I knew the family would call it flirting, and not listen to a -word I said. - -A madness seized me. Now that everything is over, I realize that it was -madness. But "there is a divinity that shapes our ends etc." It was to -be. It was Karma, or Kismet, or whatever the word is. It was written in -the Book of Fate that I was to go ahead, and wreck my life, and generally -ruin everything. - -I locked the door behind Hannah, and stood with tragic feet, "where the -brook and river meet." What was I to do? How hide this evidence of -my (presumed) duplicity? I was innocent, but I looked guilty. This, as -everyone knows, is worse than guilt. - -I unpacked the suitcase as fast as I could, therefore, and being just -about distracted, I bundled the things up and put them all together in -the toy closet, where all Sis's dolls and mine are, mine being mostly -pretty badly gone, as I was always hard on dolls. - -How far removed were those innocent years when I played with dolls! - -Well, I knew Hannah pretty well, and therefore was not surprised when, -having hidden the trousers under a doll buggy, I heard mother's voice at -the door. - -"Let me in, Barbara," she said. - -I closed the closet door, and said: "What is it, mother?" - -"Let me in." - -So I let her in, and pretended I expected her to kiss me, which she -had not yet, on account of the whooping cough. But she seemed to have -forgotten that. Also the kiss. - -"Barbara," she said, in the meanest voice, "how long have you been -smoking?" - -Now I must pause to explain this. Had mother approached me in a sweet -and maternal manner, I would have been softened, and would have told the -whole story. But she did not. She was, as you might say, steaming with -rage. And seeing that I was misunderstood, I hardened. I can be as hard -as adamant when necessary. - -"What do you mean, mother?" - -"Don't answer one question with another." - -"How can I answer when I don't understand you?" - -She simply twitched with fury. - -"You--a mere Child!" she raved. "And I can hardly bring myself to -mention it--the idea of your owning a flask, and bringing it into this -house--it is--it is----" - -Well, I was growing cold and more haughty every moment, so I said: "I -don't see why the mere mention of a flask upsets you so. It isn't -because you aren't used to one, especially when traveling. And since I -was a mere baby I have been accustomed to intoxicants." - -"Barbara!" she interjected, in the most dreadful tone. - -"I mean, in the family," I said. "I have seen wine on our table ever -since I can remember. I knew to put salt on a claret stain before I -could talk." - -Well, you know how it is to see an enemy on the run, and although I -regret to refer to my dear mother as an enemy, still at that moment she -was such and no less. And she was beating it. It was the reference to -my youth that had aroused me, and I was like a wounded lion. Besides, I -knew well enough that if they refused to see that I was practically grown -up, if not entirely, I would get a lot of Sis's clothes, fixed up with -new ribbons. Faded old things! I'd had them for years. - -Better to be considered a bad woman than an unformed child. - -"However, mother," I finished, "if it is any comfort to you, I did not -buy that flask. And I am not a confirmed alcoholic. By no means." - -"This settles it," she said, in a melancholy tone. "When I think of the -comfort Leila has been to me, and the anxiety you have caused, I wonder -where you get your--your DEVILTRY from. I am positively faint." - -I was alarmed, for she did look queer, with her face all white around -the rouge. So I reached for the flask. - -"I'll give you a swig of this," I said. "It will pull you around in no -time." - -But she held me off fiercely. - -"Never!" she said. "Never again. I shall empty the wine cellar. There -will be nothing to drink in this house from now on. I do not know what -we are coming to." - -She walked into the bathroom, and I heard her emptying the flask down -the drain pipe. It was a very handsome flask, silver with gold stripes, -and all at once I knew the young man would want it back. So I said: - -"Mother, please leave the flask here anyhow." - -"Certainly not." - -"It's not mine, mother." - -"Whose is it?" - -"It--a friend of mine loaned it to me." - -"Who?" - -"I can't tell you." - -"You can't TELL me! Barbara, I am utterly bewildered. I sent you away a -simple child, and you return to me--what?" - -Well, we had about an hour's fight over it, and we ended in a -compromise. I gave up the flask, and promised not to smoke and so forth, -and I was to have some new dresses and a silk sweater, and to be allowed -to stay up until ten o'clock, and to have a desk in my room for my work. - -"Work!" mother said. "Career! What next? Why can't you be like Leila, -and settle down to having a good time?" - -"Leila and I are different," I said loftily, for I resented her tone. -"Leila is a child of the moment. Life for her is one grand, sweet Song. -For me it is a serious matter. 'Life is real, life is earnest, and the -grave is not its goal,'" I quoted in impassioned tones. - -(Because that is the way I feel. How can the grave be its goal? THERE -MUST BE SOMETHING BEYOND. I have thought it all out, and I believe in a -world beyond, but not in a hell. Hell, I believe, is the state of mind -one gets into in this world as a result of one's wicked acts or one's -wicked thoughts, and is in one's self.) - -As I have said, the other side of the compromise was that I was not to -carry flasks with me, or drink any punch at parties if it had a stick -in it, and you can generally find out by the taste. For if it is what -Carter Brooks calls "loaded" it stings your tongue. Or if it tastes like -cider it's probably champagne. And I was not to smoke any cigarettes. - -Mother was holding out on the sweater at that time, saying that Sis had -a perfectly good one from Miami, and why not wear that? So I put up a -strong protest about the cigarettes, although I have never smoked but -once as I think the school knows, and that only half through, owing to -getting dizzy. I said that Sis smoked now and then, because she thought -it looked smart; but that, if I was to have a career, I felt that the -soothing influence of tobacco would help a lot. - -So I got the new sweater, and everything looked smooth again, and mother -kissed me on the way out, and said she had not meant to be harsh, but -that my great uncle Putnam had been a notorious drunkard, and I looked -like him, although of a more refined type. - -There was a dreadful row that night, however, when father came home. We -were all dressed for dinner, and waiting in the drawing room, and Leila -was complaining about me, as usual. - -"She looks older than I do now, mother," she said. "If she goes to the -seashore with us I'll have her always tagging at my heals. I don't see -why I can't have my first summer in peace." Oh, yes, we were going to -the shore, after all. Sis wanted it, and everybody does what she wants, -regardless of what they prefer, even fishing. - -"First summer!" I exclaimed. "One would think you were a teething baby!" - -"I was speaking to mother, Barbara. Everyone knows that a debutante -only has one year nowadays, and if she doesn't go off in that year she's -swept away by the flood of new girls the next fall. We might as well -be frank. And while Barbara's not a beauty, as soon as the bones in her -neck get a little flesh on them she won't be hopeless, and she has a -flippant manner that men like." - -"I intend to keep Barbara under my eyes this summer," mother said -firmly. "After last Christmas's happenings, and our discovery today, I -shall keep her with me. She need not, however, interfere with you, -Leila. Her hours are mostly different, and I will see that her friends -are the younger boys." - -I said nothing, but I knew perfectly well she had in mind Eddie Perkins -and Willie Graham, and a lot of other little kids that hang around the -fruit punch at parties, and throw the peas from the croquettes at each -other when the footmen are not near, and pretend they are allowed to -smoke, but have sworn off for the summer. - -I was naturally indignant at Sis's words, which were not filial, to my -mind, but I replied as sweetly as possible: - -"I shall not be in your way, Leila. I ask nothing but food and shelter, -and that perhaps not for long." - -"Why? Do you intend to die?" she demanded. - -"I intend to work," I said. "It's more interesting than dieing, and will -be a novelty in this house." - -Father came in just then, and he said: - -"I'll not wait to dress, Clara. Hello, children. I'll just change my -collar while you ring for the cocktails." - -Mother got up and faced him with majesty. - -"We are not going to have, any" she said. - -"Any what?" said father from the doorway. - -"I have had some fruit juice prepared with a dash of bitters. It is -quite nice. And I'll ask you, James, not to explode before the servants. -I will explain later." - -Father has a very nice disposition but I could see that mother's manner -got on his nerves, as it got on mine. Anyhow there was a terrific fuss, -with Sis playing the piano so that the servants would not hear, and in -the end father had a cocktail. Mother waited until he had had it, and -was quieter, and then she told him about me, and my having a flask in -my suitcase. Of course I could have explained, but if they persisted in -misunderstanding me, why not let them do so, and be miserable? - -"It's a very strange thing, Bab," he said, looking at me, "that -everything in this house is quiet until you come home, and then we get -as lively as kittens in a frying pan. We'll have to marry you off pretty -soon, to save our piece of mind." - -"James!" said my mother. "Remember last winter, please." - -There was no claret or anything with dinner, and father ordered mineral -water, and criticized the food, and fussed about Sis's dressmaker's -bill. And the second man gave notice immediately after we left the -dining room. When mother reported that, as we were having coffee in the -drawing room, father said: - -"Humph! Well, what can you expect? Those fellows have been getting the -best half of a bottle of claret every night since they've been here, and -now it's cut off. Damned if I wouldn't like to leave myself." - -From that time on I knew that I was watched. It made little or no -difference to me. I had my work, and it filled my life. There were times -when my soul was so filled with joy that I could hardly bare it. I had -one act done in two days. I wrote out the love scenes in full, because I -wanted to be sure of what they would say to each other. How I thrilled -as each marvelous burst of fantasy flowed from my pen! But the dialogue -of less interesting parts I left for the actors to fill in themselves. -I consider this the best way, as it gives them a chance to be original, -and not to have to say the same thing over and over. - -Jane Raleigh came over to see me the day after I came home, and I read -her some of the love scenes. She positively wept with excitement. - -"Bab," she said, "if any man, no matter who, ever said those things to -me, I'd go straight into his arms. I couldn't help it. Whose going to -act in it?" - -"I think I'll have Robert Edeson, or Richard Mansfield." - -"Mansfield's dead," said Jane. - -"Honestly?" - -"Honest he is. Why don't you get some of these moving picture actors? -They never have a chance in the Movies, only acting and not talking." - -Well, that sounded logical. And then I read her the place where the -cruel first husband comes back and finds her married again and happy, -and takes the children out to drown them, only he can't because they can -swim, and they pull him in instead. The curtain goes down on nothing but -a few bubbles rising to mark his watery grave. - -Jane was crying. - -"It is too touching for words, Bab!" she said. "It has broken my heart. -I can just close my eyes and see the theater dark, and the stage almost -dark, and just those bubbles coming up and breaking. Would you have to -have a tank?" - -"I daresay," I replied dreamily. "Let the other people worry about that. -I can only give them the material, and hope that they have intelligence -enough to grasp it." - -I think Sis must have told Carter Brooks something about the trouble I -was in, for he brought me a box of candy one afternoon, and winked at me -when mother was not looking. - -"Don't open it here," he whispered. - -So I was forced to control my impatience, though passionately fond of -candy. And when I got to my room later, the box was full of cigarettes. -I could have screamed. It just gave me one more thing to hide, as if a -man's suit and shirt and so on was not sufficient. - -But Carter paid more attention to me than he ever had before, and at -a tea dance somebody had at the country club he took me to one side and -gave me a good talking to. - -"You're being rather a bad child, aren't you?" he said. - -"Certainly not." - -"Well, not bad, but--er--naughty. Now see here, Bab, I'm fond of you, -and you're growing into a mighty pretty girl. But your whole social -life is at stake. For heaven's sake, at least until you're married, cut -out the cigarettes and booze." - -That cut me to the heart, but what could I say? - -Well, July came, and we had rented a house at Little Hampton and -everywhere one went one fell over an open trunk or a barrel containing -silver or linen. - -Mother went around with her lips moving as if in prayer, but she was -really repeating lists, such as sowing basket, table candles, headache -tablets, black silk stockings and tennis rackets. - -Sis got some lovely clothes, mostly imported, but they had a woman come -in and sew for me. Hannah and she used to interrupt my most precious -moments at my desk by running a tape measure around me, or pinning a -paper pattern to me. The sewing woman always had her mouth full of pins, -and once, owing to my remarking that I wished I had been illegitimate, -so I could go away and live my own life, she swallowed one. It caused a -grate deal of excitement, with Hannah blaming me and giving her vinegar -to swallow to soften the pin. Well, it turned out all right, for she -kept on living, but she pretended to have sharp pains all over her here -and there, and if the pin had been as lively as a tadpole and wriggled -from spot to spot, it could not have hurt in so many places. - -Of course they blamed me, and I shut myself up more and more in my -sanctuary. There I lived with the creatures of my dreams, and forgot for -a while that I was only a Sub-Deb, and that Leila's last year's tennis -clothes were being fixed over for me. - -But how true what dear Shakespeare says:= - -`````dreams, - -```Which are the children of an idle brain. - -```Begot of nothing but vain fantasy.= - -I loved my dreams, but alas, they were not enough. After a tortured -hour or two at my desk, living in myself the agonies of my characters, -suffering the pangs of the wife with two husbands and both living, -struggling in the water with the children, fruit of the first union, -dying with number two and blowing my last bubbles heavenward--after all -these emotions, I was done out. - -Jane came in one day and found me prostrate on my couch, with a light of -suffering in my eyes. - -"Dearest!" cried Jane, and gliding to my side, fell on her knees. - -"Jane!" - -"What is it? You are ill?" - -I could hardly more than whisper. In a low tone I said: - -"He is dead." - -"Dearest!" - -"Drowned!" - -At first she thought I meant a member of my family. But when she -understood she looked serious. - -"You are too intense, Bab," she said solemnly. "You suffer too much. You -are wearing yourself out." - -"There is no other way," I replied in broken tones. - -Jane went to the Mirror and looked at herself. Then she turned to me. - -"Others don't do it." - -"I must work out my own Salvation, Jane," I observed firmly. But she had -roused me from my apathy, and I went into Sis's room, returning with -a box of candy some one had sent her. "I must feel, Jane, or I cannot -write." - -"Pooh! Loads of writers get fat on it. Why don't you try comedy? It pays -well." - -"Oh--MONEY!" I said, in a disgusted tone. - -"Your FORTE, of course, is love," she said. "Probably that's because -you've had so much experience." Owing to certain reasons it is generally -supposed that I have experienced the gentle passion. But not so, alas! -"Bab," Jane said, suddenly, "I have been your friend for a long time. I -have never betrayed you. You can trust me with your life. Why don't you -tell me?" - -"Tell you what?" - -"Something has happened. I see it in your eyes. No girl who is happy -and has not a tragic story stays at home shut up at a messy desk when -everyone is out at the club playing tennis. Don't talk to me about a -career. A girl's career is a man and nothing else. And especially after -last winter, Bab. Is--is it the same one?" - -Here I made my fatal error. I should have said at once that there was -no one, just as there had been no one last winter. But she looked so -intense, sitting there, and after all, why should I not have an amorous -experience? I am not ugly, and can dance well, although inclined to lead -because of dancing with other girls all winter at school. So I lay back -on my pillow and stared at the ceiling. - -"No. It is not the same man." - -"What is he like? Bab, I'm so excited I can't sit still." - -"It--it hurts to talk about him," I observed faintly. - -Now I intended to let it go at that, and should have, had not Jane kept -on asking questions. Because I had had a good lesson the winter before, -and did not intend to deceive again. And this I will say--I really told -Jane Raleigh nothing. She jumped to her own conclusions. And as for her -people saying she cannot chum with me any more, I will only say this: If -Jane Raleigh smokes she did not learn it from me. - -Well, I had gone as far as I meant to. I was not really in love with -anyone, although I liked Carter Brooks, and would possibly have loved him -with all the depth of my nature if Sis had not kept an eye on me most of -the time. However---- - -Jane seemed to be expecting something, and I tried to think of some -way to satisfy her and not make any trouble. And then I thought of the -suitcase. So I locked the door and made her promise not to tell, and got -the whole thing out of the toy closet. - -"Wha--what is it?" asked Jane. - -I said nothing, but opened it all up. The flask was gone, but the -rest was there, and Carter's box too. Jane leaned down and lifted the -trousers and poked around somewhat. Then she straitened and said: - -"You have run away and got married, Bab." - -"Jane!" - -She looked at me piercingly. - -"Don't lie to me," she said accusingly. "Or else what are you doing with -a man's whole outfit, including his dirty collar? Bab, I just can't bare -it." - -Well, I saw that I had gone to far, and was about to tell Jane the truth -when I heard the sewing woman in the hall. I had all I could do to get -the things put away, and with Jane looking like death I had to stand -there and be fitted for one of Sis's chiffon frocks, with the low neck -filled in with net. - -"You must remember, Miss Bab," said the human pin cushion, "that you are -still a very young girl, and not out yet." - -Jane got up off the bed suddenly. - -"I--I guess I'll go, Bab," she said. "I don't feel very well." - -As she went out she stopped in the doorway and crossed her heart, -meaning that she would die before she would tell anything. But I was -not comfortable. It is not a pleasant thought that your best friend -considers you married and gone beyond recall, when in truth you are not, -or even thinking about it, except in idle moments. - -The seen now changes. Life is nothing but such changes. No sooner do -we alight on one branch, and begin to sip the honey from it, but we -are taken up and carried elsewhere, perhaps to the mountains or to the -sea-shore, and there left to make new friends and find new methods of -enjoyment. - -The flight--or journey--was in itself an anxious time. For on my -otherwise clear conscience rested the weight of that strange suitcase. -Fortunately Hannah was so busy that I was left to pack my belongings -myself, and thus for a time my guilty secret was safe. I put my things in -on top of the masculine articles, not daring to leave any of them in the -closet, owing to house-cleaning, which is always done before our return -in the fall. - -On the train I had a very unpleasant experience, due to Sis opening my -suitcase to look for a magazine, and drawing out a soiled gentleman's -collar. She gave me a very piercing glance, but said nothing and at the -next opportunity I threw it out of a window, concealed in a newspaper. - -We now approach the catastrophe. My book on play writing divides plays -into Introduction, Development, Crisis, Denouement and Catastrophe. And -so one may divide life. In my case the cinder proved the introduction, -as there was none other. I consider that the suitcase was the -development, my showing it to Jane Raleigh was the crisis, and the -denouement or catastrophe occurred later on. - -Let us then proceed to the catastrophe. - -Jane Raleigh came to see me off at the train. Her family was coming the -next day. And instead of flowers, she put a small bundle into my hands. -"Keep it hidden, Bab," she said, "and tear up the card." - -I looked when I got a chance, and she had crocheted me a wash cloth, -with a pink edge. "For your linen chest," the card said, "and I'm doing -a bath towel to match." - -I tore up the card, but I put the wash cloth with the other things I -was trying to hide, because it is bad luck to throw a gift away. But I -hoped, as I seemed to be getting more things to conceal all the time, -that she would make me a small bath towel, and not the sort as big as a -bed spread. - -Father went with us to get us settled, and we had a long talk while -mother and Sis made out lists for dinners and so forth. - -"Look here, Bab," he said, "something's wrong with you. I seem to have -lost my only boy, and have got instead a sort of tear-y young person I -don't recognize." - -"I'm growing up, father" I said. I did not mean to rebuke him, but ye -gods! Was I the only one to see that I was no longer a child? - -"Sometimes I think you are not very happy with us." - -"Happy?" I pondered. "Well, after all, what is happiness?" - -He took a spell of coughing then, and when it was over he put his arms -around me and was quite affectionate. - -"What a queer little rat it is!" he said. - -I only repeat this to show how even my father, with all his affection and -good qualities, did not understand and never would understand. My -heart was full of a longing to be understood. I wanted to tell him my -yearnings for better things, my aspirations to make my life a great and -glorious thing. AND HE DID NOT UNDERSTAND. - -He gave me five dollars instead. Think of the tragedy of it! - -As we went along, and he pulled my ear and finally went asleep with a -hand on my shoulder, the bareness of my life came to me. I shook with -sobs. And outside somewhere Sis and mother made dinner lists. Then and -there I made up my mind to work hard and achieve, to become great and -powerful, to write things that would ring the hearts of men--and women, -to, of course--and to come back to them some day, famous and beautiful, -and when they sued for my love, to be kind and haughty, but cold. I felt -that I would always be cold, although gracious. - -I decided then to be a writer of plays first, and then later on to act -in them. I would thus be able to say what came into my head, as it was -my own play. Also to arrange the scenes so as to wear a variety of gowns, -including evening things. I spent the rest of the afternoon manicuring -my nails in our state room. - -Well, we got there at last. It was a large house, but everything was -to thin about it. The school will understand this, the same being the -condition of the new freshman dormitory. The walls were to thin, and so -were the floors. The doors shivered in the wind, and palpitated if you -slammed them. Also you could hear every sound everywhere. - -I looked around me in despair. Where, oh where, was I to find my -cherished solitude? Where? - -On account of Hannah hating a new place, and considering the house an -insult to the servants, especially only one bathroom for the lot of them, -she let me unpack alone, and so far I was safe. But where was I to work? -Fate settled that for me however. - - There is no armor against fate; - Death lays his icy hand on Kings. - - J. Shirley; Dirge. - -Previously, however, mother and I had had a talk. She sailed into my -room one evening, dressed for dinner, and found me in my ROBE DE NUIT, -curled up in the window seat admiring the view of the ocean. - -"Well!" she said. "Is this the way you intend going to dinner?" - -"I do not care for any dinner," I replied. Then, seeing she did not -understand, I said coldly. "How can I care for food, mother, when the -sea looks like a dying opal?" - -"Dying pussycat!" mother said, in a very nasty way. "I don't know what -has come over you, Barbara. You used to be a normal child, and there was -some accounting for what you were going to do. But now! Take off that -nightgown, and I'll have Tanney hold off dinner for half an hour." - -Tanney was the butler who had taken Patrick's place. - -"If you insist," I said coldly. "But I shall not eat." - -"Why not?" - -"You wouldn't understand, mother." - -"Oh, I wouldn't? Well, suppose I try," she said, and sat down. "I am -not very intelligent, but if you put it clearly I may grasp it. Perhaps -you'd better speak slowly, also." - -So, sitting there in my room, while the sea throbbed in tireless beats -against the shore, while the light faded and the stars issued, one by -one, like a rash on the face of the sky, I told mother of my dreams. I -intended, I said, to write life as it really is, and not as supposed to -be. - -"It may in places be, ugly" I said, "but truth is my banner. The truth -is never ugly, because it is real. It is, for instance, not ugly if a -man is in love with the wife of another, if it is real love, and not the -passing fancy of a moment." - -Mother opened her mouth, but did not say anything. - -"There was a time," I said, "when I longed for things that now have no -value whatever to me. I cared for clothes and even for the attentions of -the other sex. But that has passed away, mother. I have now no thought -but for my career." - -I watched her face, and soon the dreadful understanding came to me. -She, too, did not understand. My literary aspirations were as nothing to -her! - -Oh, the bitterness of that moment. My mother, who had cared for me as a -child, and obeyed my slightest wish, no longer understood me. And saddest -of all, there was no way out. None. Once, in my youth, I had believed -that I was not the child of my parents at all, but an adopted -one--perhaps of rank and kept out of my inheritance by those who had -selfish motives. But now I knew that I had no rank or inheritance, save -what I should carve out for myself. There was no way out. None. - -Mother rose slowly, staring at me with perfectly fixed and glassy eyes. - -"I am absolutely sure," she said, "that you are on the edge of something. -It may be typhoid, or it may be an elopement. But one thing is certain. -You are not normal." - -With this she left me to my thoughts. But she did not neglect me. Sis -came up after dinner, and I saw mother's fine hand in that. Although not -hungry in the usual sense of the word, I had begun to grow rather empty, -and was nibbling out of a box of chocolates when Sis came. - -She got very little out of me. To one with softness and tenderness I -would have told all, but Sis is not that sort. And at last she showed -her claws. - -"Don't fool yourself for a minute," she said. "This literary pose has -not fooled anybody. Either you're doing it to appear interesting, or -you've done something you're scared about. Which is it?" - -I refused to reply. - -"Because if it's the first, and you're trying to look literary, you are -going about it wrong," she said. "Real Literary People don't go round -mooning and talking about the opal sea." - -I saw mother had been talking, and I drew myself up. - -"They look and act like other people," said Leila, going to the bureau -and spilling powder all over the place. "Look at Beecher." - -"Beecher!" I cried, with a thrill that started inside my elbows. (I -have read this to one or two of the girls, and they say there is no such -thrill. But not all people act alike under the influence of emotion, and -mine is in my arms, as stated.) - -"The playwright," Sis said. "He's staying next door. And if he does any -languishing it is not by himself." - -There may be some who have for a long time had an ideal, but without -hoping ever to meet him, and then suddenly learning that he is nearby, -with indeed but a wall or two between, can be calm and cool. But I am -not like that. Although long suppression has taught me to dissemble at -times, where my heart is concerned I am powerless. - -For it was at last my heart that was touched. I, who had scorned the -other sex and felt that I was born cold and always would be cold, that -day I discovered the truth. Reginald Beecher was my ideal. I had never -spoken to him, nor indeed seen him, except for his pictures. But the -very mention of his name brought a lump to my throat. - -Feeling better immediately, I got Sis out of the room and coaxed Hannah -to bring me some dinner. While she was sneaking it out of the pantry I -was dressing, and soon, as a new being, I was out on the stone bench at -the foot of the lawn, gazing with rapt eyes at the sea. - -But fate was against me. Eddie Perkins saw me there and came over. He -had but recently been put in long trousers, and those not his best -ones but only white flannels. He was never sure of his garters, and was -always looking to see if his socks were coming down. Well, he came over -just as I was sure I saw Reginald Beecher next door on the veranda, and -made himself a nuisance right away, trying all sorts of kid tricks, such -as snapping a rubber band at me, and pulling out hairpins. - -But I felt that I must talk to someone. So I said: - -"Eddie, if you had your choice of love or a career, which would it be?" - -"Why not both," he said, hitching the rubber band onto one of his front -teeth and playing on it. "Neither ought to take up all a fellow's time. -Say, listen to this! Talk about a ukelele!" - -"A woman can never have both." - -He played a while, strumming with one finger until the hand slipped off -and stung him on the lip. - -"Once," I said, "I dreamed of a career. But I believe love's the most -important." - -Well, I shall pass lightly over what followed. Why is it that a girl -cannot speak of love without every member of the other sex present, no -matter how young, thinking it is he? And as for mother maintaining that -I kissed that wretched child, and they saw me from the drawing-room, it -is not true and never was true. It was but one more misunderstanding -which convinced the family that I was carrying on all manner of affairs. - -Carter Brooks had arrived that day, and was staying at the Perkins' -cottage. I got rid of the Perkins' baby, as his nose was bleeding--but I -had not slapped him hard at all, and felt little or no compunction--when -I heard Carter coming down the walk. He had called to see Leila, but -she had gone to a beach dance and left him alone. He never paid any -attention to me when she was around, and I received him coolly. - -"Hello!" he said. - -"Well?" I replied. - -"Is that the way you greet me, Bab?" - -"It's the way I would greet most any left-over," I said. "I eat hash at -school, but I don't have to pretend to like it." - -"I came to see YOU." - -"How youthful of you!" I replied, in stinging tones. - -He sat down on a bench and stared at me. - -"What's got into you lately?" he said. "Just as you're getting to be -the prettiest girl around, and I'm strong for you, you--you turn into a -regular rattlesnake." - -The kindness of his tone upset me considerably, to who so few kind words -had come recently. I am compelled to confess that I wept, although I had -not expected to, and indeed shed few tears, although bitter ones. - -How could I possibly know that the chaste salute of Eddie Perkins and my -head on Carter Brooks' shoulder were both plainly visible against the -rising moon? But this was the case, especially from the house next door. - -But I digress. - -Suddenly Carter held me off and shook me somewhat. - -"Sit up here and tell me about it," he said. "I'm getting more scared -every minute. You are such an impulsive little beast, and you turn the -fellows' heads so--look here, is Jane Raleigh lying, or did you run away -and get married to someone?" - -I am aware that I should have said, then and there, No. But it seemed a -shame to spoil things just as they were getting interesting. So I said, -through my tears: - -"Nobody understands me. Nobody. And I'm so lonely." - -"And of course you haven't run away with anyone, have you?" - -"Not--exactly." - -"Bless you, Bab!" he said. And I might as well say that he kissed me, -because he did, although unexpectedly. Somebody just then moved a chair -on the porch next door and coughed rather loudly, so Carter drew a long -breath and got up. - -"There's something about you lately, Bab, that I don't understand," he -said. "You--you're mysterious. That's the word. In a couple of years -you'll be the real thing." - -"Come and see me then," I said in a demure manner. And he went away. - -So I sat on my bench and looked at the sea and dreamed. It seemed to -me that centuries must have passed since I was a lighthearted girl, -running up and down that beach, paddling, and so forth, with no thought -of the future farther away than my next meal. - -Once I lived to eat. Now I merely ate to live, and hardly that. The -fires of genius must be fed, but no more. - -Sitting there, I suddenly made a discovery. The boat house was near me, -and I realized that upstairs, above the bath-houses, et cetera, there -must be a room or two. The very thought intrigued me (a new word for -interest, but coming into use, and sounding well). - -Solitude--how I craved it for my work. And here it was, or would be when -I had got the place fixed up. True, the next door boat-house was close, -but a boat-house is a quiet place, generally, and I knew that nowhere, -aside from the desert, is there perfect silence. - -I investigated at once, but found the place locked and the boatman gone. -However, there was a lattice, and I climbed up that and got in. I had a -fright there, as it seemed to be full of people, but I soon saw it was -only the family bathing suits hung up to dry. Aside from the odor of -drying things it was a fine study, and I decided to take a small table -there, and the various tools of my profession. - -Climbing down, however, I had a surprise. For a man was just below, and -I nearly put my foot on his shoulder in the darkness. - -"Hello!" he said. "So it's YOU." - -I was quite speechless. It was Mr. Beecher himself, in his dinner -clothes and bareheaded. - -Oh fluttering heart, be still. Oh pen, move steadily. OH TEMPORA O MORES! - -"Let me down," I said. I was still hanging to the lattice. - -"In a moment," he said. "I have an idea that the instant I do you'll -vanish. And I have something to tell you." - -I could hardly believe my ears. - -"You see," he went on, "I think you must move that bench." - -"Bench?" - -"You seem to be so very popular," he said. "And of course I'm only a -transient and don't matter. But some evening one of the admirers may be -on the Patten's porch, while another is with you on the bench. And--the -Moon rises beyond it." - -I was silent with horror. So that was what he thought of me. Like all the -others, he, too, did not understand. He considered me a flirt, when my -only thoughts were serious ones, of immortality and so on. - -"You'd better come down now," he said. "I was afraid to warn you until I -saw you climbing the lattice. Then I knew you were still young enough to -take a friendly word of advice." - -I got down then and stood before him. He was magnificent. Is there -anything more beautiful than a tall man with a gleaming expanse of dress -shirt? I think not. - -But he was staring at me. - -"Look here," he said. "I'm afraid I've made a mistake after all. I -thought you were a little girl." - -"That needn't worry you. Everybody does," I replied. "I'm seventeen, but -I shall be a mere child until I come out." - -"Oh!" he said. - -"One day I am a child in the nursery," I said. "And the next I'm grown -up and ready to be sold to the highest bidder." - -"I beg your pardon, I----" - -"But I am as grown up now as I will ever be," I said. "And indeed more -so. I think a great deal now, because I have plenty of time. But my -sister never thinks at all. She is too busy." - -"Suppose we sit on the bench. The moon is too high to be a menace, and -besides, I am not dangerous. Now, what do you think about?" - -"About life, mostly. But of course there is death, which is beautiful -but cold. And--one always thinks of love, doesn't one?" - -"Does one?" he asked. I could see he was much interested. As for me, I -dared not consider whom it was who sat beside me, almost touching. That -way lay madness. - -"Don't you ever," he said, "reflect on just ordinary things, like -clothes and so forth?" - -I shrugged my shoulders. - -"I don't get enough new clothes to worry about. Mostly I think of my -work." - -"Work?" - -"I am a writer" I said in a low, earnest tone. - -"No! How--how amazing. What do you write?" - -"I'm on a play now." - -"A comedy?" - -"No. A tragedy. How can I write a comedy when a play must always end -in a catastrophe? The book says all plays end in crisis, denouement and -catastrophe." - -"I can't believe it," he said. "But, to tell you a secret, I never read -any books about plays." - -"We are not all gifted from berth, as you are," I observed, not to -merely please him, but because I considered it the simple truth. - -He pulled out his watch and looked at it in the moonlight. - -"All this reminds me," he said, "that I have promised to go to work -tonight. But this is so--er--thrilling that I guess the work can wait. -Well--now go on." - -Oh, the joy of that night! How can I describe it? To be at last in -the company of one who understood, who--as he himself had said in "Her -Soul"--spoke my own language! Except for the occasional mosquito, -there was no sound save the tumescent sea and his voice. - -Often since that time I have sat and listened to conversation. How flat -it sounds to listen to father conversing about Gold, or Sis about Clothes, -or even to the young men who come to call, and always talk about -themselves. - -We were at last interrupted in a strange manner. Mr. Patten came down -their walk and crossed to us, walking very fast. He stopped right in -front of us and said: - -"Look here, Reg, this is about all I can stand." - -"Oh, go away, and sing, or do something," said Mr. Beecher sharply. - -"You gave me your word of honor" said the Patten man. "I can only remind -you of that. Also of the expense I'm incurring, and all the rest of it. -I've shown all sorts of patience, but this is the limit." - -He turned on his heel, but came back for a last word or two. - -"Now see here," he said, "we have everything fixed the way you said you -wanted it. And I'll give you ten minutes. That's all." - -He stalked away, and Mr. Beecher looked at me. - -"Ten minutes of heaven," he said, "and then perdition with that bunch. -Look here," he said, "I--I'm awfully interested in what you are telling -me. Let's cut off up the beach and talk." - -Oh night of nights! Oh moon of moons! - -Our talk was strictly business. He asked me my plot, and although I had -been warned not to do so, even to David Belasco, I gave it to him fully. -And even now, when all is over, I am not sorry. Let him use it if he -will. I can think of plenty of plots. - -The real tragedy is that we met father. He had been ordered to give up -smoking, and I considered he had done so, mother feeling that I should be -encouraged in leaving off cigarettes. So when I saw the cigar I was sure -it was not father. It proved to be, however, and although he passed with -nothing worse than a glare, I knew I was in more trouble. - -At last we reached the bench again, and I said good night. Our relations -continued business-like to the last. He said: - -"Good night, little authoress, and let's have some more talks." - -"I'm afraid I've bored you," I said. - -"Bored me!" he said. "I haven't spent such an evening for years!" - -The family acted perfectly absurd about it. Seeing that they were going -to make a fuss, I refused to say with whom I had been walking. You'd -have thought I had committed a crime. - -"It has come to this, Barbara," mother said, pacing the floor. "You -cannot be trusted out of our sight. Where do you meet all these men? If -this is how things are now, what will it be when given your liberty?" - -Well, it is to painful to record. I was told not to leave the place for -three days, although allowed the boat-house. And of course Sis had to -chime in that she'd heard a rumor I had run away and got married, and -although of course she knew it wasn't true, owing to no time to do so, -still where there was smoke there was fire. - -But I felt that their confidence in me was going, and that night, after -all were in the land of dreams, I took that wretched suit of clothes and -so on to the boathouse, and hid them in the rafters upstairs. - -I come now to the strange event of the next day, and its sequel. - -The Patten place and ours are close together, and no other house near. -Mother had been very cool about the Pattens, owing to nobody knowing -them that we knew. Although I must say they had the most interesting -people all the time, and Sis was crazy to call and meet some of them. - -Jane came that day to visit her aunt, and she ran down to see me first -thing. - -"Come and have a ride," she said. "I've got the runabout, and after that -we'll bathe and have a real time." - -But I shook my head. - -"I'm a prisoner, Jane," I said. - -"Honestly! Is it the play, or something else?" - -"Something else, Jane," I said. "I can tell you nothing more. I am simply -in trouble, as usual." - -"But why make you a prisoner, unless----" She stopped suddenly and -stared at me. - -"He has claimed you!" she said. "He is here, somewhere about this place, -and now, having had time to think it over, you do not want to go to him. -Don't deny it. I see it in your face. Oh, Bab, my heart aches for you." - -It sounded so like a play that I kept it up. Alas, with what results! - -"What else can I do, Jane?" I said. - -"You can refuse, if you do not love him. Oh Bab, I did not say it -before, thinking you loved him. But no man who wears clothes like those -could ever win my heart. At least, not permanently." - -Well, she did most of the talking. She had finished the bath towel, -which was a large size, after all, and monogrammed, and she made me -promise never to let my husband use it. When she went away she left it -with me, and I carried it out and put it on the rafters, with the other -things--I seemed to be getting more to hide every day. - -Things went all wrong the next day. Sis was in a bad temper, and as much -as said I was flirting with Carter Brooks, although she never intends to -marry him herself, owing to his not having money and never having asked -her. - -I spent the morning in fixing up a studio in the boat-house, and felt -better by noon. I took two boards on trestles and made a desk, and -brought a dictionary and some pens and ink out. I use a dictionary -because now and then I am uncertain how to spell a word. - -Events now moved swiftly and terribly. I did not do much work, being -exhausted by my efforts to fix up the studio, and besides, feeling that -nothing much was worth while when one's family did not and never would -understand. At eleven o'clock Sis and Carter and Jane and some others -went in bathing from our dock. Jane called up to me, but I pretended not -to hear. They had a good time judging by the noise, although I should -think Jane would cover her arms and neck in the water, being very thin. -Legs one can do nothing with, although I should think stripes going -around would help. But arms can have sleeves. - -However--the people next door went in too, and I thrilled to the core -when Mr. Beecher left the bath-house and went down to the beech. What -a physique! What shoulders, all brown and muscular! And to think that, -strong as they were, they wrote the tender love scenes of his plays. -Strong and tender--what descriptive words they are! It was then that I -saw he had been vaccinated twice. - -To resume. All the Pattens went in, and a new girl with them, in a -one piece suit. I do not deny that she was pretty. I only say that she -was not modest, and that the way she stood on the Patten's dock -and posed for Mr. Beecher's benefit was unnecessary and well, not -respectable. - -She was nothing to me, nor I to her. But I watched her closely. I -confess that I was interested in Mr. Beecher. Why not? He was a public -character, and entitled to respect. Nay, even to love. But I maintain -and will to my dying day, that such love is different from that -ordinarily born to the other sex, and a thing to be proud of. - -Well, I was seeing a drama and did not even know it. After the rest -had gone, Mr. Patten came to the door into Mr. Beecher's room in the -bath-house--they are all in a row, with doors opening on the sand--and -he had a box in his hand. He looked around, and no one was looking -except me, and he did not see me. He looked very fierce and glum, and -shortly after he carried in a chair and a folding card table. I thought -this was very strange, but imagine how I felt when he came out carrying -Mr. Beecher's clothes! He brought them all, going on his tiptoes and -watching every minute. I felt like screaming. - -However, I considered that it was a practical joke, and I am no spoil -sport. So I sat still and waited. They stayed in the water a long time, -and the girl with the figure was always crawling out on the dock and -then diving in to show off. Leila and the rest got sick of her actions -and came in to lunch. They called up to me, but I said I was not hungry. - -"I don't know what's come over Bab," I heard Sis say to Carter Brooks. -"She's crazy, I think." - -"She's seventeen," he said. "That's all. They get over it mostly, but -she has it hard." - -I loathed him. - -Pretty soon the other crowd came up, and I could see every one knew the -joke but Mr. Beecher. They all scuttled into their doorways, and Mr. -Patten waited till Mr. Beecher was inside and had thrown out the shirt -of his bathing suit. Then he locked the door from the outside. - -There was a silence for a minute. Then Mr. Beecher said in a terrible -voice. - -"So that's the game, is it?" - -"Now listen, Reg," Mr. Patten said, in a soothing voice. "I've tried -everything but force, and now I'm driven to that. I've got to have that -third act. The company's got the first two acts well under way, and I'm -getting wires about every hour. I've got to have that script." - -"You go to Hell!" said Mr. Beecher. You could hear him plainly through -the window, high up in the wall. And although I do not approve of an -oath, there are times when it eases the tortured soul. - -"Now be reasonable, Reg," Mr. Patten pleaded. "I've put a fortune in -this thing, and you're lying down on the job. You could do it in four -hours if you'd put your mind to it." - -There was no answer to this. And he went on: - -"I'll send out food or anything. But nothing to drink. There's champagne -on the ice for you when you've finished, however. And you'll find pens -and ink and paper on the table." - -The answer to this was Mr. Beecher's full weight against the door. But it -held, even against the full force of his fine physic. - -"Even if you do break it open," Mr. Patten said, "you can't go very far -the way you are. Now be a good fellow, and let's get this thing done. -It's for your good as well as mine. You'll make a fortune out of it." - -Then he went into his own door, and soon came out, looking like a -gentleman, unless one knew, as I did, that he was a whited sepulcher. - -How long I sat there, paralyzed with emotion, I do not know. Hannah -came out and roused me from my trance of grief. She is a kindly soul, -although too afraid of mother to be helpful. - -"Come in like a good girl, Miss Bab," she said. "There's that fruit -salad that cook prides herself on, and I'll ask her to brown a bit of -sweetbread for you." - -"Hannah," I said in a low voice, "there is a crime being committed in -this neighborhood, and you talk to me of food." - -"Good gracious, Miss Bab!" - -"I cannot tell you any more than that, Hannah," I said gently, "because -it is only being done now, and I cannot make up my mind about it. But of -course I do not want any food." - -As I say, I was perfectly gentle with her, and I do not understand why -she burst into tears and went away. - -I sat and thought it all over. I could not leave, under the -circumstances. But yet, what was I to do? It was hardly a police matter, -being between friends, as one may say, and yet I simply could not bare -to leave my ideal there in that damp bath-house without either food or, -as one may say, raiment. - -About the middle of the afternoon it occurred to me to try to find a key -for the lock of the bath-house. I therefore left my studio and proceeded -to the house. I passed close by the fatal building, but there was no -sound from it. - -I found a number of trunk-keys in a drawer in the library, and was about -to escape with them, when father came in. He gave me a long look, and -said: - -"Bee still buzzing?" - -I had hoped for some understanding from him, but my spirits fell at this -speech. - -"I am still working, father," I said, in a firm if nervous tone. "I am -not doing as good work as I would if things were different, but--I am at -least content, if not happy." - -He stared at me, and then came over to me. - -"Put out your tongue," he said. - -Even against this crowning infamy I was silent. - -"That's all right," he said. "Now see here, Chicken, get into your -riding togs and we'll order the horses. I don't intend to let this -play-acting upset your health." - -But I refused. "Unless, of course, you insist," I finished. He only -shook his head, however, and left the room. I felt that I had lost my -last friend. - -I did not try the keys myself, but instead stood off a short distance -and threw them through the window. I learned later that they struck -Mr. Beecher on the head. Not knowing, of course, that I had flung them, -and that my reason was pure friendliness and idealism, he threw them -out again with a violent exclamation. They fell at my feet, and lay -there, useless, rejected, tragic. - -At last I summoned courage to speak. - -"Can't I do something to help?" I said, in a quaking voice, to the -window. - -There was no answer, but I could hear a pen scratching on paper. - -"I do so want to help you," I said, in a louder tone. - -"Go, away" said his voice, rather abstracted than angry. - -"May I try the keys?" I asked. Be still, my heart! For the scratching had -ceased. - -"Who's that?" asked the beloved voice. I say 'beloved' because an ideal -is always beloved. The voice was beloved, but sharp. - -"It's me." - -I heard him mutter something, and I think he came to the door. - -"Look here," he said. "Go away. Do you understand? I want to work. And -don't come near here again until seven o'clock." - -"Very well," I said faintly. - -"And then come without fail," he said. - -"Yes, Mr. Beecher," I replied. How commanding he was! Strong but tender! - -"And if anyone comes around making a noise, before that, you shoot them -for me, will you?" - -"SHOOT them?" - -"Drive them off, or use a bean-shooter. Anything. But don't yell at -them. It distracts me." - -It was a sacred trust. I, and only I, stood between him and his MAGNUM -OPUS. I sat down on the steps of our bath-house, and took up my vigil. - -It was about five o'clock when I heard Jane approaching. I knew it was -Jane, because she always wears tight shoes, and limps when unobserved. -Although having the reputation of the smallest foot of any girl in our -set in the city, I prefer comfort and ease, unhampered by heals--French -or otherwise. No man will ever marry a girl because she wears a small -shoe, and catches her heals in holes in the boardwalk, and has to soak -her feet at night before she can sleep. However---- - -Jane came on, and found me crouched on the doorstep, in a lowly -attitude, and holding my finger to my lips. - -She stopped and stared at me. - -"Hello," she said. "What do you think you are? A statue?" - -"Hush, Jane," I said, in a low tone. "I can only ask you to be quiet and -speak in whispers. I cannot give the reason." - -"Good heavens!" she whispered. "What has happened, Bab?" - -"It is happening now, but I cannot explain." - -"WHAT is happening?" - -"Jane," I whispered, earnestly, "you have known me a long time and I have -always been trustworthy, have I not?" - -She nodded. She is never exactly pretty, and now she had opened her -mouth and forgot to close it. - -"Then ask no questions. Trust me, as I am trusting you." It seemed to -me that Mr. Beecher threw his pen at the door, and began to pace the -bath-house. Owing of course to his being in his bare feet, I was not -certain. Jane heard something, too, for she clutched my arm. - -"Bab," she said, in intense tones, "if you don't explain I shall lose my -mind. I feel now that I am going to shriek." - -She looked at me searchingly. - -"Somebody is a prisoner. That's all." - -It was the truth, was it not? And was there any reasons for Jane Raleigh -to jump to conclusions as she did, and even to repeat later in public -that I had told her that my lover had come for me, and that father had -locked him up to prevent my running away with him, immuring him in the -Patten's bath-house? Certainly not. - -Just then I saw the boatman coming who looks after our motor boat, and I -tiptoed to him and asked him to go away, and not to come back unless he -had quieter boats and would not whistle. He acted very ugly about it, I -must say, but he went. - -When I came back, Jane was sitting thinking, with her forehead all -puckered. - -"What I don't understand, Bab," she said, "is, why no noise?" - -"Because he is writing," I explained. "Although his clothing has been -taken away, he is writing. I don't think I told you, Jane, but that is -his business. He is a writer. And if I tell you his name you will faint -with surprise." - -She looked at me searchingly. - -"Locked up--and writing, and his clothing gone! What's he writing, Bab? -His will?" - -"He is doing his duty to the end, Jane," I said softly. "He is writing -the last act of a play. The company is rehearsing the first two acts, -and he has to get this one ready, though the heavens fall." - -But to my surprise, she got up and said to me, in a firm voice: - -"Either you are crazy, Barbara Archibald, or you think I am. You've -been stuffing me for about a week, and I don't believe a word of it. And -you'll apologize to me or I'll never speak to you again." - -She said this loudly, and then went away, And Mr. Beecher said, through -the door. - -"What the devil's the row about?" - -Perhaps my nerves were going, or possibly it was no luncheon and -probably no dinner. But I said, just as if he had been an ordinary -person: - -"Go on and write and get through. I can't stew on these steps all day." - -"I thought you were an amiable child." - -"I'm not amiable and I'm not a child." - -"Don't spoil your pretty face with frowns." - -"It's MY face. And you can't see it anyhow," I replied, venting in -feminine fashion, my anger at Jane on the nearest object. - -"Look here," he said, through the door, "you've been my good angel. I'm -doing more work than I've done in two months, although it was a dirty, -low-down way to make me do it. You're not going back on me now, are -you?" - -Well, I was mollified, as who would not be? So I said: - -"Well?" - -"What did Patten do with my clothes?" - -"He took them with him." He was silent, except for a muttered word. - -"You might throw those keys back again," he said. "Let me know first, -however. You're the most accurate thrower I've ever seen." - -So I threw them through the window and I believe hit the ink bottle. -But no matter. And he tried them, but none availed. - -So he gave up, and went back to work, having saved enough ink to finish -with. But a few minutes later he called to me again, and I moved to the -doorstep, where I sat listening, while apparently admiring the sea. He -explained that having been thus forced, he had almost finished the last -act, and it was a corker. And he said if he had his clothes and some -money, and a key to get out, he'd go right back to town with it and -put it in rehearsal. And at the same time he would give the Pattens -something to worry about over night. Because, play or no play, it was a -rotten thing to lock a man in a bath-house and take his clothes away. - -"But of course I can't get my clothes," he said. "They'll take cussed -good care of that. And there's the key too. We're up against it, little -sister." - -Although excited by his calling me thus, I retained my faculties, and -said: - -"I have a suit of clothes you can have." - -"Thanks awfully," he said. "But from the slight acquaintance we have -had, I don't believe they would fit me." - -"Gentleman's clothes," I said frigidly. - -"You have?" - -"In my studio," I said. "I can bring them, if you like. They look quite -good, although creased." - -"You know" he said, after a moment's silence, "I can't quite believe -this is really happening to me! Go and bring the suit of clothes, -and--you don't happen to have a cigar, I suppose?" - -"I have a large box of cigarettes." - -"It is true," I heard him say through the door. "It is all true. I am -here, locked in. The play is almost done. And a very young lady on the -doorstep is offering me a suit of clothes and tobacco. I pinch myself. I -am awake." - -Alas! Mingled with my joy at serving my ideal there was also grief. My -idle had feet of clay. He was a slave, like the rest of us, to his body. -He required clothes and tobacco. I felt that, before long, he might even -ask for an apple, or something to stay the pangs of hunger. This I felt -I could not bare. - -Perhaps I would better pass over quickly the events of the next hour. I -got the suit and the cigarettes, and even Jane's bath towel, and threw -them in to him. Also I believe he took a shower, as I heard the water -running, At about seven o'clock he said he had finished the play. He put -on the clothes which he observed almost fitted him, although gayer than -he usually wore, and said that if I would give him a hair pin he thought -he could pick the lock. But he did not succeed. - -Being now dressed, however, he drew a chair to the window and we -talked together. It seemed like a dream that I should be there, on such -intimate terms with a great playwright, who had just, even if under -compulsion, finished a last act, I bared my very soul to him, such as -about resembling Julia Marlowe, and no one understanding my craving to -achieve a place in the world of art. We were once interrupted by Hannah -looking for me for dinner. But I hid in a bath-house, and she went away. - -What was food to me compared with such a conversation? - -When Hannah had disappeared, he said suddenly: - -"It's rather unusual, isn't it, your having a suit of clothes and -everything in your--er--studio?" - -But I did not explain fully, merely saving that it was a painful story. - -At half past seven I saw mother on the veranda looking for me, and I -ducked out of sight, I was by this time very hungry, although I did not -like to mention the fact, But Mr. Beecher made a suggestion, which was -this: that the Pattens were evidently going to let him starve until -he got through work, and that he would see them in perdition before -he would be the butt for their funny remarks when they freed him. He -therefore tried to escape out the window, but stuck fast, and finally gave -it up. - -At last he said: - -"Look here, you're a curious child, but a nervy one. How'd you like to -see if you can get the key? If you do we'll go to a hotel and have a -real meal, and we can talk about your career." - -Although quivering with terror, I consented. How could I do otherwise, -with such a prospect? For now I began to see that all other emotions -previously felt were as nothing to this one. I confess, without shame, -that I felt the stirring of the tender passion in my breast. Ah me, that -it should have died ere it had hardly lived! - -"Where is the key?" I asked, in a rapt but anxious tone. - -He thought a while. - -"Generally," he said, "it hangs on a nail at the back entry. But the -chances are that Patten took it up to his room this time, for safety, -You'd know it if you saw it. It has some buttons off somebody's bathing -suit tied to it." - -Here it was necessary to hide again, as father came stocking out, -calling me in an angry tone. But shortly after-wards I was on my way -to the Patten's house, on shaking knees. It was by now twilight, that -beautiful period of romance, although the dinner hour also. Through the -dusk I sped, toward what? I knew not. - -The Pattens and the one-piece lady were at dinner, and having a very -good time, in spite of having locked a guest in the bath-house. Being -used to servants and prowling around, since at one time when younger I -had a habit of taking things from the pantry, I was quickly able to see -that the key was not in the entry. I therefore went around to the front -door and went in, being prepared, if discovered, to say that someone was -in their bath-house and they ought to know it. But I was not heard among -their sounds of revelry, and was able to proceed upstairs, which I did. - -But not having asked which was Mr. Patten's room, I was at a loss and -almost discovered by a maid who was turning down the beds--much too -early, also, and not allowed in the best houses until nine-thirty, since -otherwise the rooms look undressed and informal. - -I had but time to duck into another chamber, and from there to a closet. - -I REMAINED IN THAT CLOSET ALL NIGHT. - -I will explain. No sooner had the maid gone than a woman came into the -room and closed the door. I heard her moving around and I suddenly felt -that she was going to bed, and might get her robe de nuit out of the -closet. I was petrified. But it seems, while she really WAS undressing -at that early hour, the maid had laid her night clothes out, and I was -saved. - -Very soon a knock came to the door, and somebody came in, like Mrs. -Patten's voice and said: "You're not going to bed, surely!" - -"I'm going to pretend to have a sick headache," said the other person, -and I knew it was the one-piece lady. "He's going to come back in a -frenzy, and he'll take it out on me, unless I'm prepared." - -"Poor Reggie!" said Mrs. Patten, "To think of him locked in there alone, -and no clothes or anything. It's too funny for words." - -"You're not married to him." - -My heart stopped beating. Was SHE married to him? She was indeed. My -dream was over. And the worst part of it was that for a married man -I had done without food or exercise and now stood in a hot closet in -danger of a terrible fuss. - -"No, thank heaven!" said Mrs. Patten. "But it was the only way to make -him work. He is a lazy dog. But don't worry. We'll feed him before he -sees you. He's always rather tractable after he's fed." - -Were ALL my dreams to go? Would they leave nothing to my shattered -illusions? Alas, no. - -"Jolly him a little, too," said----can I write it?--Mrs. Beecher. "Tell -him he's the greatest thing in the world. That will help some. He's -vain, you know, awfully vain. I expect he's written a lot of piffle." - -Had they listened they would have heard a low, dry sob, wrung from -my tortured heart. But Mrs. Beecher had started a vibrator, and my -anguished cry was lost. - -"Well," said Mrs. Patten, "Will has gone down to let him out, I expect -he'll attack him. He's got a vile temper. I'll sit with you till he -comes back, if you don't mind. I'm feeling nervous." - -It was indeed painful to recall the next half hour. I must tell the -truth however. They discussed us, especially mother, who had not called. -They said that we thought we were the whole summer colony, although -every one was afraid of mother's tongue, and nobody would marry Leila, -except Carter Brooks, and he was poor and no prospects. And that I was -an incorrigible, and carried on something ghastly, and was going to be put -in a convent. I became justly furious and was about to step out and tell -them a few plain facts, when somebody hammered at the door and then came -in. It was Mr. Patten. - -"He's gone!" he said. - -"Well, he won't go far, in bathing trunks," said Mrs. Beecher. - -"That's just it. His bathing trunks are there." - -"Well, he won't go far without them!" - -"He's gone so far I can't locate him." - -I heard Mrs. Beecher get up. - -"Are you in earnest, Will?" she said. "Do you mean that he has gone -without a stitch of clothes, and can't be found?" - -Mrs. Patten gave a sort of screech. - -"You don't think--oh Will, he's so temperamental. You don't think he's -drowned himself?" - -"No such luck," said Mrs. Beecher, in a cold tone. I hated her for it. -True, he had deceived me. He was not as I had thought him. In our two -conversations he had not mentioned his wife, leaving me to believe him -free to love "where he listed," as the poet says. - -"There are a few clues," said Mr. Patten. "He got out by means of a wire -hairpin, for one thing. And he took the manuscript with him, which he'd -hardly have done if he meant to drown himself. Or even if, as we fear, -he had no pockets. He has smoked a lot of cigarettes out of a candy box, -which I did not supply him, and he left behind a bath towel that does -not, I think, belong to us." - -"I should think he would have worn it," said Mrs. Beecher, in a -scornful tone. - -"Here's the bath towel," Mr. Patten went on. "You may recognize the -initials. I don't." - -"B. P. A.," said Mrs. Beecher. "Look here, don't they call that--that -flibbertigibbet next door 'Barbara'?" - -"The little devil!" said Mr. Patten, in a raging tone. "She let him out, -and of course he's done no work on the play or anything. I'd like to -choke her." - -Nobody spoke then, and my heart beat fast and hard. I leave it to -anybody, how they'd like to be shut in a closet and threatened with a -violent death from without. Would or would they not ever be the same -person afterwords? - -"I'll tell you what I'd do," said the Beecher woman. "I'd climb up the -back of father, next door, and tell him what his little daughter has -done, because I know she's mixed up in it, towel or no towel. Reg is -always sappy when they're seventeen. And she's been looking moon-eyed at -him for days." - -Well, the Pattens went away, and Mrs. Beecher manicured her nails,--I -could hear her filing them--and sang around and was not much concerned, -although for all she knew he was in the briny deep, a corpse. How true -it is that "the paths of glory lead but to the grave." - -I got very tired and much hotter, and I sat down on the floor. After what -seemed like hours, Mrs. Patten came back, all breathless, and she said: - -"The girl's gone too, Clare." - -"What girl?" - -"Next door. If you want excitement, they've got it. The mother is in -hysterics and there's a party searching the beach for her body. The -truth is, of course, if that towel means anything." - -"That Reg has run away with her, of course," said Mrs. Beecher, in a -resigned tone. "I wish he would grow up and learn something. He's becoming -a nuisance. And when there are so many interesting people to run away -with, to choose that chit!" - -Yes, she said that, And in my retreat I could but sit and listen, and -of course perspire, which I did freely. Mrs. Patten went away, after -talking about the "scandal" for some time. And I sat and thought of the -beach being searched for my body, a thought which filled my eyes with -tears of pity for what might have been, I still hoped Mrs. Beecher would -go to bed, but she did not. Through the key hole I could see her with a -book, reading, and not caring at all that Mr. Beecher's body, and mine -too, might be washing about in the cruel sea, or have eloped to New York. - -I loathed her. - -At last I must have slept, for a bell rang, and there I was still in the -closet, and she was answering it. - -"Arrested?" she said, "Well, I should think he'd better be, if what you -say about clothing is true.... Well, then--what's he arrested for?... -Oh, kidnapping! Well, if I'm any judge, they ought to arrest the -Archibald girl for kidnapping HIM. No, don't bother me with it tonight. -I'll try to read myself to sleep." - -So this was marriage! Did she flee to her unjustly accused husband's side -and comfort him? Not she. She went to bed. - -At daylight, being about smothered, I opened the closet door and drew a -breath of fresh air. Also I looked at her, and she was asleep, with her -hair in patent wavers. Ye gods! - -The wife of Reginald Beecher thus to distort her looks at night! I could -not bare it. - -I averted my eyes, and on my tiptoes made for the window. - -My sufferings were over. In a short time I had slid down and was making -my way through the dewy morn toward my home. Before the sun was up, -or more than starting, I had climbed to my casement by means of a wire -trellis, and put on my 'robe de nuit'. But before I settled to sleep I -went to the pantry and there satisfied the pangs of hunger having had -nothing since breakfast the day before. All the lights seemed to be on, -on the lower floor, which I considered wasteful of Tanney, the butler. -But being sleepy, gave it no further thought. And so to bed, as the -great English dairy-keeper, Pepys, had said in his dairy. - -It seemed but a few moments later that I heard a scream, and opening my -eyes, saw Leila in the doorway. She screamed again, and mother came and -stood beside her. Although very drowsy, I saw that they still wore their -dinner clothes. - -They stared as if transfixed, and then mother gave a low moan, and said -to Sis: - -"That unfortunate man has been in jail all night." - -And Sis said: "Jane Raleigh is crazy. That's all." Then they looked at -me, and mother burst into tears. But Sis said: - -"You little imp! Don't tell me you've been in that bed all night. I KNOW -BETTER." - -I closed my eyes. They were not of the understanding sort, and never -would be. - -"If that's the way you feel I shall tell you nothing," I said wearily. - -"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" mother said, in a slow and dreadful voice. - -Well, I saw then that a part of the truth must be disclosed, especially -since she has for some time considered sending me to a convent, although -without cause, and has not done so for fear of my taking the veil. So I -told her this. I said: - -"I spent the night shut in a clothes closet, but where is my secret. -I cannot tell you." - -"Barbara! You MUST tell me." - -"It is not my secret alone, mother." - -She caught at the foot of the bed. - -"Who was shut with you in that closet?" she demanded in a shaking voice. -"Barbara, there is another wretched man in all this. It could not have -been Mr. Beecher, because he has been in the station house all night." - -I sat up, leaning on one elbow, and looked at her earnestly. - -"Mother" I said, "you have done enough damage, interfering with -careers--not only mine, but another's imperiled now by not having a -last act. I can tell you no more, except"--here my voice took on a deep -and intense fiber--"that I have done nothing to be ashamed of, although -unconventional." - -Mother put her hands to her face, and emitted a low, despairing cry. - -"Come," Leila said to her, as to a troubled child. "Come, and Hannah can -use the vibrator on your spine." - -So she went, but before she left she said: - -"Barbara, if you will only promise to be a good girl, and give us a -chance to live this scandal down, I will give you anything you ask for." - -"Mother!" Sis said, in an angry tone. - -"What can I do, Leila?" mother said. "The girl is attractive, and -probably men will always be following her and making trouble. Think of -last winter. I know it is bribery, but it is better than scandal." - -"I want nothing, mother," I said, in a low, heart stricken tone, "save to -be allowed to live my own life and to have a career." - -"My heavens," mother said, "if I hear that word again, I'll go crazy." - -So she went away, and Sis came over and looked down at me. - -"Well!" she said. "What's happened anyhow? Of course you've been up to -some mischief, but I don't suppose anybody will ever know the truth -of it. I was hoping you'd make it this time and get married, and stop -worrying us." - -"Go away, please, and let me sleep," I said. "As to getting married, -under no circumstances did I expect to marry him. He has a wife already. -Personally, I think she's a total loss. She wears patent wavers at -night, and sleeps with her mouth open. But who am I to interfere with -the marriage bond? I never have and never will." - -But Sis only gave me a wild look and went away. - - -This, dear readers and schoolmates, is the true story of my meeting with -and parting from Reginald Beecher, the playwright. Whatever the papers -may say, it is not true, except the fact that he was recognized by Jane -Raleigh, who knew the suit he wore, when in the act of pawning his ring -to get money to escape from his captors (I. E., The Pattens). It -was the necktie which struck her first, and also his guilty expression. -As I was missing by that time, Jane put two and two together and made an -elopement. - -Sometimes I sit and think things over, my fingers wandering "over the -ivory keys" of the typewriter they gave me to promise not to elope with -anybody--although such a thing is far from my mind--and the world seems -a cruel and unjust place, especially to those with ambition. - -For Reginald Beecher is no longer my ideal, my night of the pen. I will -tell about that in a few words. - -Jane Raleigh and I went to a matinee late in September before returning -to our institutions of learning. Jane clutched my arm as we looked at our -programs and pointed to something. - -How my heart beat! For whatever had come between us, I was still loyal -to him. - -This was a new play by him! - -"Ah," my heart seemed to say, "now again you will hear his dear words, -although spoken by alien mouths. - -"The love scenes----" - -I could not finish. Although married and forever beyond me, I could -still hear his manly tones as issuing from the door of the Bath-house. -I thrilled with excitement. As the curtain rose I closed my eyes in -ecstasy. - -"Bab!" Jane said, in a quavering tone. - -I looked. What did I see? The bath-house itself, the very one. And as -I stared I saw a girl, wearing her hair as I wear mine, cross the stage -with a bunch of keys in her hand, and say to the bath-house door. - -"Can't I do something to help? I do so want to help you." - -MY VERY WORDS. - -And a voice from beyond the bath-house door said: - -"Who's that?" - -HIS WORDS. - -I could bare no more. Heedless of Jane's protests and anguish, I got up -and went out, into the light of day. My body was bent with misery. -Because at last I knew that, like mother and all the rest, he too, did -not understand me and never would! To him I was but material, the stuff -that plays are made of!= - -```And now we know that he never could know, - -```And did not understand. - -```Kipling.= - -Ignoring Jane's observation that the tickets had cost two dollars each, -I gathered up the scattered skeins of my life together, and fled. - - - -CHAPTER III. HER DIARY: BEING THE DAILY JOURNAL OF THE SUB-DEB - - -JANUARY 1st. I have today received this diary from home, having come -back a few days early to make up a French condition. - -Weather, clear and cold. - -New Year's dinner. Roast chicken (Turkey being very expensive), mashed -turnips, sweet potatoes and mince pie. - -It is my intention to record in this book the details of my Daily Life, -my thoughts which are to sacred for utterance, and my ambitions. Because -who is there to whom I can speak them? I am surrounded by those who -exist for the mere pleasures of the day, or whose lives are bound up in -recitations. - -For instance, at dinner today, being mostly faculty and a few girls -who live in the far West, the conversation was entirely on buying a -phonograph for dancing because the music teacher has the measles and -is quarantined in the infirmary. And on Miss Everett's cousin, who has -written a play. - -When one looks at Miss Everett, one recognizes that no cousin of hers -could write a play. - -New Year's resolution--to help someone every day. Today helped -Mademoiselle to put on her rubbers. - - -JANUARY 2ND. Today I wrote my French theme, beginning, "Les hommes -songent moins a leur ame qua leur corps." Mademoiselle sent for me and -objected, saying that it was not a theme for a young girl, and that I -must write a new one, on the subject of pears. How is one to develop in -this atmosphere? - -Some of the girls are coming back. They straggle in, and put the favors -they got at cotillions on the dresser, and their holiday gifts, and each -one relates some amorous experience while at home. Dear Diary, is there -something wrong with me, that love has passed me by? I have had offers -of devotion but none that appealed to me, being mostly either too young or -not attracting me by physical charm. I am not cold, although frequently -accused of it, Beneath my frigid exterior beats a warm heart. I intend -to be honest in this diary, and so I admit it. But, except for passing -fancies--one being, alas, for a married man--I remain without the divine -passion. - -What must it be to thrill at the approach of the loved form? To harken -to each ring of the telephone bell, in the hope that, if it is not -the idolized voice, it is at least a message from it? To waken in the -morning and, looking around the familiar room, to muse: "Today I may see -him--on the way to the post office, or rushing past in his racing car." -And to know that at the same moment HE to is musing: "Today I may see -her, as she exercises herself at basket ball, or mounts her horse for a -daily canter!" - -Although I have no horse. The school does not care for them, considering -walking the best exercise. - -Have flunked the French again, Mademoiselle not feeling well, and -marking off for the smallest thing. - -Today's helpful deed--assisted one of the younger girls with her -spelling. - - -JANUARY 4TH. Miss Everett's cousin's play is coming here. The school is -to have free tickets, as they are "trying it on the dog." Which means -seeing if it is good enough for the large cities. - -We have decided, if Everett marks us well in English from now on, to -applaud it, but if she is unpleasant, to sit still and show no interest. - - -JANUARY 5TH, 6TH, 7TH, 8TH. Bad weather, which is depressing to one of -my temperament. Also boil on nose. - -A few helpful deeds--nothing worth putting down. - - -JANUARY 9TH. Boil cut. - -Again I can face my image in my mirror, and not shrink. - -Mademoiselle is sick and no French. MISERICORDE! - -Helpful deed--sent Mademoiselle some fudge, but this school does not -encourage kindness. Reprimanded for cooking in room. School sympathizes -with me. We will go to Miss Everett's cousin's play, but we will damn it -with faint praise. - - -JANUARY 10TH. I have written this date, and now I sit back and regard -it. As it is impressed on this white paper, so, Dear Diary, is it -written on my soul. To others it may be but the tenth of January. To me -it is the day of days. Oh, tenth of January! Oh, Monday. Oh, day of my -awakening! - -It is now late at night, and around me my schoolmates are sleeping the -sleep of the young and heart free. Lights being off, I am writing by the -faint luminosity of a candle. Propped up in bed, my mackinaw coat over -my 'robe de nuit' for warmth, I sit and dream. And as I dream I still hear -in my ears his final words: "My darling. My woman!" - -How wonderful to have them said to one night after night, the while -being in his embrace, his tender arms around one! I refer to the heroine -in the play, to whom he says the above rapturous words. - -Coming home from the theater tonight, still dazed with the revelation of -what I am capable of, once aroused, I asked Miss Everett if her cousin -had said anything about Mr. Egleston being in love with the leading -character. She observed: - -"No. But he may be. She is very pretty." - -"Possibly," I remarked. "But I should like to see her in the morning, -when she gets up." - -All the girls were perfectly mad about Mr. Egleston, although pretending -merely to admire his Art. But I am being honest, as I agreed at the -start, and now I know, as I sit here with the soft, although chilly -breezes of the night blowing on my hot brow, now I know that this thing -that has come to me is Love. Moreover, it is the Love of my Life. He will -never know it, but I am his. He is exactly my ideal, strong and tall and -passionate. And clever, too. He said some awfully clever things. - -I believe that he saw me. He looked in my direction. But what does it -matter? I am small, insignificant. He probably thinks me a mere child, -although seventeen. - -What matters, oh Diary, is that I am at last in Love. It is hopeless. -Just now, when I had written that word, I buried my face in my hands. -There is no hope. None. I shall never see him again. He passed out of my -life on the 11:45 train. But I love him. MON DIEU, how I love him! - - -JANUARY 11TH. We are going home. WE ARE GOING HOME. WE ARE GOING HOME. -WE ARE GOING HOME! - -Mademoiselle has the measles. - - -JANUARY 13TH. The family managed to restrain its ecstasy on seeing me -today. The house is full of people, as they are having a dinner-dance -tonight. Sis had moved into my room, to let one of the visitors have -hers, and she acted in a very unfilial manner when she came home and -found me in it. - -"Well!" she said. "Expelled at last?" - -"Not at all," I replied in a lofty manner. "I am here through no fault -of my own. And I'd thank you to have Hannah take your clothes off my -bed." - -She gave me a bitter glance. - -"I never knew it to fail!" she said. "Just as everything is fixed, and -we're recovering from you're being here for the holidays, you come back -and stir up a lot of trouble. What brought you, anyhow?" - -"Measles." - -She snatched up her ball gown. - -"Very well," she said. "I'll see that you're quarantined, Miss Barbara, -all right. And If you think you're going to slip downstairs tonight -after dinner and WORM yourself into this party, I'll show you." - -She flounced out, and shortly afterward mother took a minute from the -florist, and came upstairs. - -"I do hope you are not going to be troublesome, Barbara," she said. "You -are too young to understand, but I want everything to go well tonight, -and Leila ought not to be worried." - -"Can't I dance a little?" - -"You can sit on the stairs and watch." She looked fidgety. "I--I'll -send up a nice dinner, and you can put on your dark blue, with a fresh -collar, and--it ought to satisfy you, Barbara, that you are at home and -possibly have brought the measles with you, without making a lot of fuss. -When you come out----" - -"Oh, very well," I murmured, in a resigned tone. "I don't care enough -about it to want to dance with a lot of souses anyhow." - -"Barbara!" said mother. - -"I suppose you have some one on the string for her," I said, with the -abandon of my thwarted hopes. "Well, I hope she gets him. Because if not, -I daresay I shall be kept in the cradle for years to come." - -"You will come out when you reach a proper age," she said, "if your -impertinence does not kill me off before my time." - -Dear Diary, I am fond of my mother, and I felt repentant and stricken. - -So I became more agreeable, although feeling all the time that she does -not and never will understand my temperament. I said: - -"I don't care about society, and you know it, mother. If you'll keep -Leila out of this room, which isn't much but is my castle while here, -I'll probably go to bed early." - -"Barbara, sometimes I think you have no affection for your sister." - -I had agreed to honesty January first, so I replied. - -"I have, of course, mother. But I am fonder of her while at school than -at home. And I should be a better sister if not condemned to her old -things, including hats which do not suit my type." - -Mother moved over majestically to the door and shut it. Then she came -and stood over me. - -"I've come to the conclusion, Barbara," she said, "to appeal to your -better nature. Do you wish Leila to be married and happy?" - -"I've just said, mother----" - -"Because a very interesting thing is happening," said mother, trying to -look playful. "I--a chance any girl would jump at." - -So here I sit, Dear Diary, while there are sounds of revelry below, and -Sis jumps at her chance, which is the Honorable Page Beresford, who is -an Englishman visiting here because he has a weak heart and can't fight. -And father is away on business, and I am all alone. - -I have been looking for a rash, but no luck. - -Ah me, how the strains of the orchestra recall that magic night in the -theater when Adrian Egleston looked down into my eyes and although -ostensibly to an actress, said to my beating heart: "My Darling! My -Woman!" - - -3 A. M. I wonder if I can control my hands to write. - -In mother's room across the hall I can hear furious voices, and I know -that Leila is begging to have me sent to Switzerland. Let her beg. -Switzerland is not far from England, and in England---- - -Here I pause to reflect a moment. How is this thing possible? Can I love -members of the other sex? And if such is the case, how can I go on -with my life? Better far to end it now, than to perchance marry one, and -find the other still in my heart. The terrible thought has come to me -that I am fickle. - -Fickle or polygamous--which? - -Dear Diary, I have not been a good girl. My New Year's Resolutions have -gone to airy nothing. - -The way they went was this: I had settled down to a quiet evening, -spent with his beloved picture which I had clipped from a newspaper. -(Adrian's. I had not as yet met the other.) And, as I sat in my chamber, -I grew more and more desolate. I love life, although pessimistic at -times. And it seemed hard that I should be there, in exile, while my -sister, only 20 months older, was jumping at her chance below. - -At last I decided to try on one of Sis's frocks and see how I looked in -it. I thought, if it looked all right, I might hang over the stairs and -see what I then scornfully termed "His Nibs." Never again shall I so -call him. - -I got an evening gown from Sis's closet, and it fitted me quite well, -although tight at the waste for me, owing to basketball. It was also -too low, so that when I had got it all hooked about four inches of my -lingerie showed. As it had been hard as anything to hook, I was obliged -to take the scissors and cut off the said lingerie. The result was good, -although very decollete. I have no bones in my neck, or practically so. - -And now came my moment of temptation. How easy to put my hair up on -my head, and then, by the servant's staircase, make my way to the scene -below! - -I, however, considered that I looked pale, although mature. I looked -at least nineteen. So I went into Sis's room, which was full of evening -wraps but empty, and put on a touch of rouge. With that and my eyebrows -blackened, I would not have known myself, had I not been certain it was I -and no other. - -I then made my way down the back stairs. - -Ah me, Dear Diary, was that but a few hours ago? Is it but a short time -since Mr. Beresford was sitting at my feet, thinking me a debutante, -and staring soulfully into my very heart? Is it but a matter of minutes -since Leila found us there, and in a manner which revealed the true -feeling she has for me, ordered me to go upstairs and take off Maddie -Mackenzie's gown? - -(Yes, it was not Leila's after all. I had forgotten that Maddie had -taken her room. And except for pulling it somewhat at the waist, I am -sure I did not hurt the old thing.) - -I shall now go to bed and dream. Of which one I know not. My heart is -full. Romance has come at last into my dull and dreary life. Below, the -revelers have gone. The flowers hang their herbaceous heads. The music -has flowed away into the river of the past. I am alone with my Heart. - - -JANUARY 14TH. How complicated my life grows, Dear Diary! How full and -yet how incomplete! How everything begins and nothing ends! - -HE is in town. - -I discovered it at breakfast. I knew I was in for it, and I got down -early, counting on mother breakfasting in bed. I would have felt better -if father had been at home, because he understands somewhat the way they -keep me down. But he was away about an order for shells (not sea; war), -and I was to bare my chiding alone. I had eaten my fruit and cereal, and -was about to begin on sausage, when mother came in, having risen early -from her slumbers to take the decorations to the hospital. - -"So here you are, wretched child!" she said, giving me one of her coldest -looks. "Barbara, I wonder if you ever think whither you are tending." - -I ate a sausage. - -What, Dear Diary, was there to say? - -"To disobey!" she went on. "To force yourself on the attention of Mr. -Beresford, in a borrowed dress, with your eyelashes blackened and your -face painted----" - -"I should think, mother," I observed, "that if he wants to marry into -this family, and is not merely being dragged into it, that he ought to -see the worst at the start." She glared, without speaking. "You know," I -continued, "it would be a dreadful thing to have the ceremony performed -and everything too late to back out, and then have ME sprung on him. It -wouldn't be honest, would it?" - -"Barbara!" she said in a terrible tone. "First disobedience, and now -sarcasm. If your father was only here! I feel so alone and helpless." - -Her tone cut me to the heart. After all she was my own mother, or at -least maintained so, in spite of numerous questions engendered by our -lack of resemblance, moral as well as physical. But I did not offer -to embarrass her, as she was at that moment poring out her tea. I hid my -misery behind the morning paper, and there I beheld the fated vision. -Had I felt any doubt as to the state of my affections it was settled -then. My heart leaped in my bosom. My face suffused. My hands trembled -so that a piece of sausage slipped from my fork. His picture looked out -at me with that well remembered gaze from the depths of the morning -paper! - -Oh, Adrian, Adrian! - -Here in the same city as I, looking out over perchance the same -newspaper to perchance the same sun, wondering--ah, what was he -wondering? - -I was not even then, in that first rapture, foolish about him. I knew -that to him I was probably but a tender memory. I knew, too, that he was -but human and probably very conceited. On the other hand, I pride myself -on being a good judge of character, and he carried nobility in every -lineament. Even the obliteration of one eye by the printer could only -hamper but not destroy his dear face. - -"Barbara," mother said sharply. "I am speaking. Are you being sulky?" - -"Pardon me, mother," I said in my gentlest tones. "I was but dreaming." -And as she made no reply, but rang the bell viciously, I went on, -pursuing my line of thought. "Mother, were you ever in love?" - -"Love! What sort of love?" - -I sat up and stared at her. - -"Is there more than one sort?" I demanded. - -"There is a very silly, schoolgirl love," she said, eying me, "that -people outgrow and blush to look back on." - -"Do you?" - -"Do I what?" - -"Do you blush to look back on it?" - -Mother rose and made a sweeping gesture with her right arm. - -"I wash my hands of you!" she said. "You are impertinent and indelicate. -At your age I was an innocent child, not troubling with things that did -not concern me. As for love, I had never heard of it until I came out." - -"Life must have burst on you like an explosion," I observed. "I suppose -you thought that babies----" - -"Silence!" mother shrieked. And seeing that she persisted in ignoring -the real things of life while in my presence, I went out, clutching the -precious paper to my heart. - - -JANUARY 15TH. I am alone in my boudoir (which is really the old -schoolroom, and used now for a sewing room). - -My very soul is sick, oh Diary. How can I face the truth? How write it -out for my eyes to see? But I must. For something must be done! The play -is failing. - -The way I discovered it was this. Yesterday, being short of money, I -sold my amethyst pin to Jane, one of the housemaids, for two dollars, -throwing in a lace collar when she seemed doubtful, as I had a special -purpose for using funds. Had father been at home I could have touched -him, but mother is different. - -I then went out to buy a frame for his picture, which I had repaired by -drawing in the other eye, although lacking the fire and passionate look -of the original. At the shop I was compelled to show it, to buy a frame -to fit. The clerk was almost overpowered. - -"Do you know him?" she asked, in a low and throbbing tone. - -"Not intimately," I replied. - -"Don't you love the Play?" she said. "I'm crazy about it. I've been back -three times. Parts of it I know off by heart. He's very handsome. That -picture don't do him justice." - -I gave her a searching glance. Was it possible that, without any -acquaintance with him whatever, she had fallen in love with him? It was -indeed. She showed it in every line of her silly face. - -I drew myself up haughtily. "I should think it would be very expensive, -going so often," I said, in a cool tone. - -"Not so very. You see, the play is a failure, and they give us girls -tickets to dress the house. Fill it up, you know. Half the girls in the -store are crazy about Mr. Egleston." - -My world shuddered about me. What--fail! That beautiful play, ending "My -darling, my woman"? It could not be. Fate would not be cruel. Was there -no appreciation of the best in art? Was it indeed true, as Miss Everett -has complained, although not in these exact words, that the Theater was -only supported now by chorus girls' legs, dancing about in utter abandon? - -With an expression of despair on my features, I left the store, carrying -the frame under my arm. - -One thing is certain. I must see the play again, and judge it with a -critical eye. IF IT IS WORTH SAVING, IT MUST BE SAVED. - - -JANUARY 16TH. Is it only a day since I saw you, Dear Diary? Can so much -have happened in the single lapse of a few hours? I look in my mirror, -and I look much as before, only with perhaps a touch of pallor. Who -would not be pale? - -I have seen HIM again, and there is no longer any doubt in my heart. -Page Beresford is attractive, and if it were not for circumstances as -they are I would not answer for the consequences. But things ARE as they -are. There is no changing that. And I have read my own heart. - -I am not fickle. On the contrary, I am true as steal. - -I have put his picture under my mattress, and have given Jane my gold -cuff pins to say nothing when she makes my bed. And now, with the house -full of people downstairs acting in a flippant and noisy manner, I shall -record how it all happened. - -My financial condition was not improved this morning, father having not -returned. But I knew that I must see the play, as mentioned above, even -if it became necessary to borrow from Hannah. At last, seeing no other -way, I tried this, but failed. - -"What for?" she said, in a suspicious way. - -"I need it terribly, Hannah," I said. - -"You'd ought to get it from your mother, then, Miss Barbara. The last -time I gave you some you paid it back in postage stamps, and I haven't -written a letter since. They're all stuck together now, and a total -loss." - -"Very well," I said, frigidly. "But the next time you break -anything----" - -"How much do you want?" she asked. - -I took a quick look at her, and I saw at once that she had decided to -lend it to me and then run and tell mother, beginning, "I think you'd -ought to know, Mrs. Archibald----" - -"Nothing doing, Hannah," I said, in a most dignified manner. "But I -think you are an old clam, and I don't mind saying so." - -I was now thrown on my own resources, and very bitter. I seemed to have -no friends, at a time when I needed them most, when I was, as one may -say, "standing with reluctant feet, where the brook and river meet." - -Tonight I am no longer sick of life, as I was then. My throws of anguish -have departed. But I was then utterly reckless, and even considered -running away and going on the stage myself. - -I have long desired a career for myself, anyhow. I have a good mind, and -learn easily, and I am not a parasite. The idea of being such has always -been repugnant to me, while the idea of a few dollars at a time doled -out to one of independent mind is galling. And how is one to remember -what one has done with one's allowance, when it is mostly eaten up -by small loans, carfare, stamps, church collection, rose water and -glycerin, and other mild cosmetics, and the additional food necessary -when one is still growing? - -To resume, Dear Diary; having utterly failed with Hannah, and having -shortly after met Sis on the stairs, I said to her, in a sisterly tone, -intimate rather than fond: - -"I daresay you can lend me five dollars for a day or so." - -"I daresay I can. But I won't," was her cruel reply. - -"Oh, very well," I said briefly. But I could not refrain from making a -grimace at her back, and she saw me in a mirror. - -"When I think," she said heartlessly, "that that wretched school may be -closed for weeks, I could scream." - -"Well, scream!" I replied. "You'll scream harder if I've brought the -measles home on me. And if you're laid up, you can say good-bye to the -dishonorable. You've got him tied, maybe," I remarked, "but not thrown -as yet." - -(A remark I had learned from one of the girls, Trudie Mills, who comes -from Montana.) - -I was therefore compelled to dispose of my silver napkin ring from school. -Jane was bought up, she said, and I sold it to the cook for fifty cents -and half a mince pie although baked with our own materials. - -All my fate, therefore, hung on a paltry fifty cents. - -I was torn with anxiety. Was it enough? Could I, for fifty cents, steal -away from the sordid cares of life, and lose myself in obliviousness, -gazing only it his dear face, listening to his dear and softly modulated -voice, and wondering if, as his eyes swept the audience, they might -perchance light on me and brighten with a momentary gleam in their -unfathomable depths? Only this and nothing more, was my expectation. - -How different was the reality! - -Having ascertained that there was a matinee, I departed at an early hour -after luncheon, wearing my blue velvet with my fox furs. White gloves -and white topped shoes completed my outfit, and, my own chapeau showing -the effect of a rainstorm on the way home from church while away at -school, I took a chance on one of Sis's, a perfectly maddening one of -rose-colored velvet. As the pink made me look pale, I added a touch of -rouge. - -I looked fully out, and indeed almost second season. I have a way of -assuming a serious and mature manner, so that I am frequently taken -for older than I really am. Then, taking a few roses left from the -decorations, and thrusting them carelessly into the belt of my coat, -I went out the back door, as Sis was getting ready for some girls to play -bridge, in the front of the house. - -Had I felt any grief at deceiving my family, the bridge party would -have knocked them. For, as usual, I had not been asked, although playing -a good game myself, and having on more than one occasion won most of the -money in the Upper House at school. - -I was early at the theater. No one was there, and women were going -around taking covers off the seats. My fifty cents gave me a good seat, -from which I opined, alas, that the shop girl had been right and business -was rotten. But at last, after hours of waiting, the faint tuning of -musical instruments was heard. - -From that time I lived in a daze. I have never before felt so strange. -I have known and respected the other sex, and indeed once or twice been -kissed by it. But I had remained cold. My pulses had never fluttered. -I was always concerned only with the fear that others had overseen -and would perhaps tell. But now--I did not care who would see, if only -Adrian would put his arms about me. Divine shamelessness! Brave Rapture! -For if one who he could not possibly love, being so close to her in her -make-up, if one who was indeed employed to be made love to, could submit -in public to his embraces, why should not I, who would have died for -him? - -These were my thoughts as the play went on. The hours flew on joyous -feet. When Adrian came to the footlights and looking apparently square -at me, declaimed: "The world owes me a living. I will have it," I almost -swooned. His clothes were worn. He looked hungry and gaunt. But how -true that= - - ``"Rags are royal raiment, when worn for virtue's sake."= - -(I shall stop here and go down to the pantry. I could eat no dinner, -being filled with emotion. But I must keep strong if I am to help Adrian -in his trouble. The mince pie was excellent, but after all pastry does -not take the place of solid food.) - - -LATER: I shall now go on with my recital. As the theater was almost -empty, at the end of Act One I put on the pink hat and left it on as -though absent-minded. There was no one behind me. And, although during -act one I had thought that he perhaps felt my presence, he had not once -looked directly at me. - -But the hat captured his errant gaze, as one may say. And, after capture, -it remained on my face, so much so that I flushed and a woman sitting -near with a very plain girl in a skunk collar, observed: - -"Really, it is outrageous." - -Now came a moment which I thrill even to recollect. For Adrian plucked -a pink rose from a vase--he was in the millionaire's house, and was -starving in the midst of luxury--and held it to his lips. - -The rose, not the house, of course. Looking over it, he smiled down at -me. - - -LATER: It is midnight. I cannot sleep. Perchance he too, is lying awake. -I am sitting at the window in my robe de nuit. Below, mother and Sis -have just come in, and Smith has slammed the door of the car and gone -back to the garage. How puny is the life my family leads! Nothing but -eating and playing, with no higher thoughts. - -A man has just gone by. For a moment I thought I recognized the -footstep. But no, it was but the night watchman. - - -JANUARY 17TH. Father still away. No money, as mother absolutely refuses -on account of Maddie Mackenzie's gown, which she had to send away to be -repaired. - - -JANUARY 18TH. Father still away. The Hon. sent Sis a huge bunch of -orchids today. She refused me even one. She is always tight with flowers -and candy. - - -JANUARY 19TH. The paper says that Adrian's play is going to close -the end of next week. No business. How can I endure to know that he -is suffering, and that I cannot help, even to the extent of buying one -ticket? Matinee today, and no money. Father still away. - -I have tried to do a kind deed today, feeling that perhaps it would -soften mother's heart and she would advance my allowance. I offered to -manicure her nails for her, but she refused, saying that as Hannah had -done it for many years, she guessed she could manage now. - - -JANUARY 20TH. Today I did a desperate thing, dear Diary. - - -"The desperate is the wisest course." Butler. - - -It is Sunday. I went to church, and thought things over. What a -wonderful thing it would be if I could save the play! Why should I feel -that my sex is a handicap? - -The rector preached on "The Opportunities of Women." The Sermon gave -me courage to go on. When he said, "Women today step in where men are -afraid to tread, and bring success out of failure," I felt that it was -meant for me. - -Had no money for the plate, and mother attempted to smuggle a half dollar -to me. I refused, however, as if I cannot give my own money to the -heathen, I will give none. Mother turned pale, and the man with the -plate gave me a black look. What can he know of my reasons? - -Beresford lunched with us, and as I discouraged him entirely, he was -very attentive to Sis. Mother is planing a big wedding, and I found Sis -in the store room yesterday looking up mother's wedding veil. - -No old stuff for me. - -I guess Beresford is trying to forget that he kissed my hand the other -night, for he called me "Little Miss Barbara" today, meaning little in -the sense of young. I gave him a stern glance. - -"I am not any littler than the other night," I observed. - -"That was merely an affectionate diminutive," he said, looking -uncomfortable. - -"If you don't mind," I said coldly, "you might do as you have -heretofore--reserve your affectionate advances until we are alone." - -"Barbara!" mother said. And began quickly to talk about a Lady Something -or other we'd met on a train in Switzerland. Because--they can talk -until they are black in the face, dear Diary, but it is true we do not -know any of the British Nobility, except the aforementioned and the man -who comes once a year with flavoring extracts, who says he is the third -son of a baronet. - -Every one being out this afternoon, I suddenly had an inspiration, and -sent for Carter Brooks. I then put my hair up and put on my blue silk, -because while I do not believe in woman using her feminine charm when -talking business, I do believe that she should look her best under any -and all circumstances. - -He was rather surprised not to find Sis in, as I had used her name in -telephoning. - -"I did it," I explained, "because I knew that you felt no interest in -me, and I had to see you." - -He looked at me, and said: - -"I'm rather flabbergasted, Bab. I--what ought I to say, anyhow?" - -He came very close, dear Diary, and suddenly I saw in his eyes the -horrible truth. He thought me in love with him, and sending for him while -the family was out. - -Words cannot paint my agony of soul. I stepped back, but he seized my -hand, in a caressing gesture. - -"Bab!" he said. "Dear little Bab!" - -Had my affections not been otherwise engaged, I should have thrilled at -his accents. But, although handsome and of good family, though poor, -I could not see it that way. - -So I drew my hand away, and retreated behind a sofa. - -"We must have an understanding, Carter" I Said. "I have sent for you, -but not for the reason you seem to think. I am in desperate trouble." - -He looked dumfounded. - -"Trouble!" he said. "You! Why, little Bab" - -"If you don't mind," I put in, rather pettishly, because of not being -little, "I wish you would treat me like almost a debutante, if not -entirely. I am not a child in arms." - -"You are sweet enough to be, if the arms might be mine." - -I have puzzled over this, since, dear Diary. Because there must be -some reason why men fall in love with me. I am not ugly, but I am not -beautiful, my nose being too short. And as for clothes, I get none -except Leila's old things. But Jane Raleigh says there are women like -that. She has a cousin who has had four husbands and is beginning on -a fifth, although not pretty and very slovenly, but with a mass of red -hair. - -Are all men to be my lovers? - -"Carter," I said earnestly, "I must tell you now that I do not care for -you--in that way." - -"What made you send for me, then?" - -"Good gracious!" I exclaimed, losing my temper somewhat. "I can send for -the ice man without his thinking I'm crazy about him, can't I?" - -"Thanks." - -"The truth is," I said, sitting down and motioning him to a seat in my -maturest manner, "I--I want some money. There are many things, but the -money comes first." - -He just sat and looked at me with his mouth open. - -"Well," he said at last, "of course--I suppose you know you've come to a -Bank that's gone into the hands of a receiver. But aside from that, -Bab, it's a pretty mean trick to send for me and let me think--well, no -matter about that. How much do you want?" - -"I can pay it back as soon as father comes home," I said, to relieve his -mind. It is against my principals to borrow money, especially from one who -has little or none. But since I was doing it, I felt I might as well ask -for a lot. - -"Could you let me have ten dollars?" I said, in a faint tone. - -He drew a long breath. - -"Well, I guess yes," he observed. "I thought you were going to touch me -for a hundred, anyhow. I--I suppose you wouldn't give me a kiss and call -it square." - -I considered. Because after all, a kiss is not much, and ten dollars is -a good deal. But at last my better nature won out. - -"Certainly not," I said coldly. "And if there is a string to it I do not -want it." - -So he apologized, and came and sat beside me, without being a nuisance, -and asked me what my other troubles were. - -"Carter" I said, in a grave voice, "I know that you believe me young -and incapable of affection. But you are wrong. I am of a most loving -disposition." - -"Now see here, Bab," he said. "Be fair. If I am not to hold your hand, -or--or be what you call a nuisance, don't talk like this. I am but -human," he said, "and there is something about you lately that--well, go -on with your story. Only, as I say, don't try me to far." - -"It's like this," I explained. "Girls think they are cold and distant, -and indeed, frequently are." - -"Frequently!" - -"Until they meet the right one. Then they learn that their hearts are, -as you say, but human." - -"Bab," he said, suddenly turning and facing me, "an awful thought has -come to me. You are in love--and not with me!" - -"I am in love, and not with you," I said in tragic tones. - -I had not thought he would feel it deeply--because of having been -interested in Leila since they went out in their perambulators together. -But I could see it was a shock to him. He got up and stood looking in -the fire, and his shoulders shook with grief. - -"So I have lost you," he said in a smothered voice. And then--"Who is -the sneaking scoundrel?" - -I forgave him this, because of his being upset, and in a rapt attitude I -told him the whole story. He listened, as one in a daze. - -"But I gather," he said, when at last the recital was over, "that you -have never met the--met him." - -"Not in the ordinary use of the word," I remarked. "But then it is -not an ordinary situation. We have met and we have not. Our eyes have -spoken, if not our vocal chords." Seeing his eyes on me I added, "if -you do not believe that soul can cry unto soul, Carter, I shall go no -further." - -"Oh!" he exclaimed. "There is more, is there? I trust it is not -painful, because I have stood as much as I can now without breaking -down." - -"Nothing of which I am ashamed," I said, rising to my full height. "I -have come to you for help, Carter. That play must not fail!" - -We faced each other over those vital words--faced, and found no -solution. - -"Is it a good play?" he asked, at last. - -"It is a beautiful play. Oh, Carter, when at the end he takes his -sweetheart in his arms--the leading lady, and not at all attractive. Jane -Raleigh says that the star generally hates his leading lady--there is not -a dry eye in the house." - -"Must be a jolly little thing. Well, of course I'm no theatrical -manager, but if it's any good there's only one way to save it. -Advertise. I didn't know the piece was in town, which shows that the -publicity has been rotten." - -He began to walk the floor. I don't think I have mentioned it, but that -is Carter's business. Not walking the floor. Advertising. Father says he -is quite good, although only beginning. - -"Tell me about it," he said. - -So I told him that Adrian was a mill worker, and the villain makes him -lose his position, by means of forgery. And Adrian goes to jail, and -comes out, and no one will give him work. So he prepares to blow up -a millionaire's house, and his sweetheart is in it. He has been to the -millionaire for work and been refused and thrown out, saying, just before -the butler and three footmen push him through a window, in dramatic -tones, "The world owes me a living and I will have it." - -"Socialism!" said Carter. "Hard stuff to handle for the two dollar -seats. The world owes him a living. Humph! Still, that's a good line to -work on. Look here, Bab, give me a little time on this, eh what? I may -be able to think of a trick or two. But mind, not a word to any one." - -He started out, but he came back. - -"Look here," he said. "Where do we come in on this anyhow? Suppose I do -think of something--what then? How are we to know that your beloved and -his manager will thank us for butting in, or do what we suggest?" - -Again I drew myself to my full height. - -"I am a person of iron will when my mind is made up," I said. "You think -of something, Carter, and I'll see that it is done." - -He gazed at me in a rapt manner. - -"Dammed if I don't believe you," he said. - -It is now late at night. Beresford has gone. The house is still. I take -the dear picture out from under my mattress and look at it. - -Oh Adrien, my Thespian, my Love. - - -JANUARY 21ST. I have a bad cold, Dear Diary, and feel rotten. But only -my physical condition is such. I am happy beyond words. This morning, -while mother and Sis were out I called up the theater and inquired the -price of a box. The man asked me to hold the line, and then came back -and said it would be ten dollars. I told him to reserve it for Miss -Putnam--my middle name. - -I am both terrified and happy, dear Diary, as I lie here in bed with a -hot water bottle at my feet. I have helped the play by buying a box, -and tonight I shall sit in it alone, and he will perceive me there, and -consider that I must be at least twenty, or I would not be there at -the theater alone. Hannah has just come in and offered to lend me three -dollars. I refused haughtily, but at last rang for her and took two. I -might as well have a taxi tonight. - - -1 A. M. The family was there! I might have known it. Never do I have -any luck. I am a broken thing, crushed to earth. But "Truth crushed to -earth will rise again."--Whittier? - -I had my dinner in bed, on account of my cold, and was let severely alone -by the family. At seven I rose and with palpitating fingers dressed -myself in my best evening frock, which is a pale yellow. I put my hair -up, and was just finished, when mother knocked. It was terrible. - -I had to duck back into bed and crush everything. But she only looked in -and said to try and behave for the next three hours, and went away. - -At a quarter to eight I left the house in a clandestine manner by means -of the cellar and the area steps, and on the pavement drew a long breath. -I was free, and I had twelve dollars. - -Act One went well, and no disturbance. Although Adrian started when he -saw me. The yellow looked very well. - -I had expected to sit back, sheltered by the curtains, and only visible -from the stage. I have often read of this method. But there were no -curtains. I therefore sat, turning a stoney profile to the audience, and -ignoring it, as though it were not present, trusting to luck that no -one I knew was there. - -He saw me. More than that, he hardly took his eyes from the box wherein -I sat. I am sure to that he had mentioned me to the company, for one and -all they stared at me until I think they will know me the next time they -see me. - -I still think I would not have been recognized by the family had I not, -in a very quiet scene, commenced to sneeze. I did this several times, and -a lot of people looked annoyed, as though I sneezed because I liked -to sneeze. And I looked back at them defiantly, and in so doing, -encountered the gaze of my maternal parent. - -Oh, Dear Diary, that I could have died at that moment, and thus, when -stretched out a pathetic figure, with tuber roses and other flowers, have -compelled their pity. But alas, no. I sneezed again! - -Mother was wedged in, and I saw that my only hope was flight. I had not -had more than between three and four dollars worth of the evening, but -I glanced again and Sis was boring holes into me with her eyes. Only -Beresford knew nothing, and was trying to hold Sis's hand under her -opera cloak. Any fool could tell that. - -But, as I was about to rise and stand poised, as one may say, for -departure, I caught Adrian's eyes, with a gleam in their deep depths. He -was, at the moment, toying with the bowl of roses. He took one out, -and while the leading lady was talking, he edged his way toward my box. -There, standing very close, apparently by accident, he dropped the rose -into my lap. - -Oh Diary! Diary! - -I picked it up, and holding it close to me, I flew. - -I am now in bed and rather chilly. Mother banged at the door some time -ago, and at last went away, muttering. - -I am afraid she is going to be pettish. - - -JANUARY 22ND. Father came home this morning, and things are looking up. -Mother of course tackled him first thing, and when he came upstairs I -expected an awful time. But my father is a real person, so he only sat -down on the bed, and said: - -"Well, chicken, so you're at it again!" - -I had to smile, although my chin shook. - -"You'd better turn me out and forget me," I said. "I was born for -trouble. My advice to the family is to get out from under. That's all." - -"Oh, I don't know," he said. "It's pretty convenient to have a family -to drop on when the slump comes." He thumped himself on the chest. -"A hundred and eighty pounds," he observed, "just intended for little -daughters to fall back on when other things fail." - -"Father," I inquired, putting my hand in his, because I had been bearing -my burdens alone, and my strength was failing: "do you believe in Love?" - -"DO I!" - -"But I mean, not the ordinary attachment between two married people. I -mean Love--the real thing." - -"I see! Why, of course I do." - -"Did you ever read Pope, father?" - -"Pope? Why I--probably, chicken. Why?" - -"Then you know what he says: 'Curse on all laws but those which Love has -made.'" - -"Look here," he said, suddenly laying a hand on my brow. "I believe you -are feverish." - -"Not feverish, but in trouble," I explained. And so I told him the -story, not saying much of my deep passion for Adrian, but merely that -I had formed an attachment for him which would persist during life. -Although I had never yet exchanged a word with him. - -Father listened and said it was indeed a sad story, and that he knew my -deep nature, and that I would be true to the end. But he refused to -give me any money, except enough to pay back Hannah and Carter Brooks, -saying: - -"Your mother does not wish you to go to the theater again, and who are -we to go against her wishes? And anyhow, maybe if you met this fellow -and talked to him, you would find him a disappointment. Many a -pretty girl I have seen in my time, who didn't pan out according to -specifications when I finally met her." - -At this revelation of my beloved father's true self, I was almost -stunned. It is evident that I do not inherit my being true as steel from -him. Nor from my mother, who is like steel in hardness but not in being -true to anything but social position. - -As I record this awful day, dear Dairy, there comes again into my mind -the thought that I DO NOT BELONG HERE. I am not like them. I do not even -resemble them in features. And, if I belonged to them, would they -not treat me with more consideration and less discipline? Who, in the -family, has my nose? - -It is all well enough for Hannah to observe that I was a pretty baby -with fat cheeks. May not Hannah herself, for some hidden reason, have -brought me here, taking away the real I to perhaps languish unseen and -"waste my sweetness on the desert air"? But that way lies madness. -Life must be made the best of as it is, and not as it might be or indeed -ought to be. - -Father promised before he left that I was not to be scolded, as I felt -far from well, and was drinking water about every minute. - -"I just want to lie here and think about things," I said, when he was -going. "I seem to have so many thoughts. And father----" - -"Yes, chicken." - -"If I need any help to carry out a plan I have, will you give it to me, -or will I have to go to total strangers?" - -"Good gracious, Bab!" he exclaimed. "Come to me, of course." - -"And you'll do what you're told?" - -He looked out into the hall to see if mother was near. Then, dear Dairy, -he turned to me and said: - -"I always have, Bab. I guess I'll run true to form." - - -JANUARY 23RD. Much better today. Out and around. Family (mother and -Sis) very dignified and nothing much to say. Evidently have promised -father to restrain themselves. Father rushed and not coming home to -dinner. - -Beresford on edge of proposing. Sis very jumpy. - - -LATER: Jane Raleigh is home for her cousin's wedding! Is coming over. We -shall take a walk, as I have much to tell her. - - -6 P. M. What an afternoon! How shall I write it? This is a Milestone in -my Life. - -I have met him at last. Nay, more. I have been in his dressing room, -conversing as though accustomed to such things all my life. I have -concealed under the mattress a real photograph of him, beneath which he -has written, "Yours always, Adrian Egleston." - -I am writing in bed, as the room is chilly--or I am--and by putting out -my hand I can touch his pictured likeness. - -Jane came around for me this afternoon, and mother consented to a walk. -I did not have a chance to take Sis's pink hat, as she keeps her door -locked now when not in her room. Which is ridiculous, because I am not -her type, and her things do not suit me very well anyhow. And I have -never borrowed anything but gloves and handkerchiefs, except Maddie's -dress and the hat. - -She had, however, not locked her bathroom, and finding a bunch of -violets in the washbowl I put them on. It does not hurt violets to wear -them, and anyhow I knew Carter Brooks had sent them and she ought to -wear only Beresford's flowers if she means to marry him. - -Jane at once remarked that I looked changed. - -"Naturally," I said, in a blase' manner. - -"If I didn't know you, Bab," she observed, "I would say that you are -rouged." - -I became very stiff and distant at that. For Jane, although my best -friend, had no right to be suspicious of me. - -"How do I look changed?" I demanded. - -"I don't know. You--Bab, I believe you are up to some mischief!" - -"Mischief?" - -"You don't need to pretend to me," she went on, looking into my very -soul. "I have eyes. You're not decked out this way for ME." - -I had meant to tell her nothing, but spying just then a man ahead who -walked like Adrian, I was startled. I clutched her arm and closed my -eyes. - -"Bab!" she said. - -The man turned, and I saw it was not he. I breathed again. But Jane was -watching me, and I spoke out of an overflowing heart. - -"For a moment I thought--Jane, I have met THE ONE at last." - -"Barbara!" she said, and stopped dead. "Is it any one I know?" - -"He is an actor." - -"Ye gods!" said Jane, in a tense voice. "What a tragedy!" - -"Tragedy indeed," I was compelled to admit. "Jane, my heart is breaking. -I am not allowed to see him. It is all off, forever." - -"Darling!" said Jane. "You are trembling all over. Hold on to me. Do -they disapprove?" - -"I am never to see him again. Never." - -The bitterness of it all overcame me. My eyes suffused with tears. - -But I told her, in broken accents, of my determination to stick to him, -no matter what. "I might never be Mrs. Adrian Egleston, but----" - -"Adrian Egleston!" she cried, in amazement. "Why Barbara, you lucky -thing!" - -So, finding her fuller of sympathy than usual, I violated my vow of -silence and told her all. - -And, to prove the truth of what I said, I showed her the sachet over my -heart containing his rose. - -"It's perfectly wonderful," Jane said, in an awed tone. "You beat -anything I've ever known for adventures! You are the type men like, -for one thing. But there is one thing I could not stand, in your -place--having to know that he is making love to the heroine every -evening and twice on Wednesdays and--Bab, this is Wednesday!" - -I glanced at my wrist watch. It was but two o'clock. Instantly, dear -Dairy, I became conscious of a dual going on within me, between love and -duty. Should I do as instructed and see him no more, thus crushing -my inclination under the iron heel of resolution? Or should I cast my -parents to the winds, and go? - -Which? - -At last I decided to leave it to Jane. I observed: "I'm forbidden to try -to see him. But I daresay, if you bought some theater tickets and did not -say what the play was, and we went and it happened to be his, it would -not be my fault, would it?" - -I cannot recall her reply, or much more, except that I waited in a -pharmacy, and Jane went out, and came back and took me by the arm. - -"We're going to the matinee, Bab," she said. "I'll not tell you which -one, because it's to be a surprise." She squeezed my arm. "First row," -she whispered. - -I shall draw a veil over my feelings. Jane bought some chocolates to -take along, but I could eat none. I was thirsty, but not hungry. And my -cold was pretty bad, to. - -So we went in, and the curtain went up. When Adrian saw me, in the front -row, he smiled although in the midst of a serious speech about the world -owing him a living. And Jane was terribly excited. - -"Isn't he the handsomest thing!" she said. "And oh, Bab, I can see that -he adores you. He is acting for you. All the rest of the people mean -nothing to him. He sees but you." - -Well, I had not told her that we had not yet met, and she said I could -do nothing less than send him a note. - -"You ought to tell him that you are true, in spite of everything," she -said. - -If I had not deceived Jane things would be better. But she was set on my -sending the note. So at last I wrote one on my visiting card, holding -it so she could not read it. Jane is my best friend and I am devoted to -her, but she has no scruples about reading what is not meant for her. I -said: - -"Dear Mr. Egleston: I think the play is perfectly wonderful. And you -are perfectly splendid in it. It is perfectly terrible that it is going -to stop. - -"(Signed) The girl of the rose." - - -I know that this seems bold. But I did not feel bold, dear Dairy. It was -such a letter as any one might read, and contained nothing compromising. -Still, I daresay I should not have written it. But "out of the fulness of -the heart the mouth speaketh." - -I was shaking so much that I could not give it to the usher. But Jane -did. However, I had sealed it up in an envelope. - -Now comes the real surprise, dear Dairy. For the usher came down and -said Mr. Egleston hoped I would go back and see him after the act was -over. I think a pallor must have come over me, and Jane said: - -"Bab! Do you dare?" - -I said yes, I dared, but that I would like a glass of water. I seemed to -be thirsty all the time. So she got it, and I recovered my savoir fair, -and stopped shaking. - -I suppose Jane expected to go along, but I refrained from asking her. -She then said: - -"Try to remember everything he says, Bab. I am just crazy about it." - -Ah, dear Dairy, how can I write how I felt when being led to him. The -entire scene is engraved on my soul. I, with my very heart in my eyes, -in spite of my efforts to seem cool and collected. He, in front of his -mirror, drawing in the lines of starvation around his mouth for the next -scene, while on his poor feet a valet put the raged shoes of Act II! - -He rose when I entered, and took me by the hand. - -"Well!" he said. "At last!" - -He did not seem to mind the valet, whom he treated like a chair or -table. And he held my hand and looked deep into my eyes. - -Ah, dear Dairy, Men may come and Men may go in my life, but never again -will I know such ecstasy as at that moment. - -"Sit down," he said. "Little Lady of the rose--but it's violets today, -isn't it? And so you like the play?" - -I was by that time somewhat calmer, but glad to sit down, owing to my -knees feeling queer. - -"I think it is magnificent," I said. - -"I wish there were more like you," he observed. "Just a moment, I have -to make a change here. No need to go out. There's a screen for that very -purpose." - -He went behind the screen, and the man handed him a raged shirt over the -top of it, while I sat in a chair and dreamed. What I reflected, would -the School say if it but knew! I felt no remorse. I was there, and -beyond the screen, changing into the garments of penury, was the only -member of the other sex I had ever felt I could truly care for. - -Dear Dairy, I am tired and my head aches. I cannot write it all. He was -perfectly respectful, and only his eyes showed his true feelings. -The woman who is the adventuress in the play came to the door, but he -motioned her away with a wave of the hand. And at last it was over, and -he was asking me to come again soon, and if I would care to have one of -his pictures. - -I am very sleepy tonight, but I cannot close this record of a -w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l d-a-y---- - - -JANUARY 24TH. Cold worse. - -Not hearing from Carter Brooks I telephoned him just now. He is sore -about Beresford and said he would not come to the house. So I have asked -him to meet me in the park, and said that there were only two more days, -this being Thursday. - - -LATER: I have seen Carter, and he has a fine plan. If only father will -do it. - -He says the theme is that the world owes Adrian a living, and that the -way to do is to put that strongly before the people. - -"Suppose," he said, "that this fellow would go to some big factory, and -demand work. Not ask for it. Demand it. He could pretend to be starving -and say: 'The world owes me a living, and I intend to have it.'" - -"But suppose they were sorry for him and gave it to him?" I observed. - -"Tut, child," he said. "That would have to be all fixed up first. It -ought to be arranged that he not only be refused, but what's more, that -he'll be thrown out. He'll have to cut up a lot, d'you see, so they'll -throw him out. And we'll have Reporters there, so the story can get -around. You get it, don't you? Your friend, in order to prove that the -idea of the play is right, goes out for a job, and proves that he cannot -demand labor and get it." He stopped and spoke with excitement: "Is he a -real sport? Would he stand being arrested? Because that would cinch it." - -But here I drew a line. I would not subject him to such humiliation. I -would not have him arrested. And at last Carter gave in. - -"But you get the idea," he said. "There'll be the deuce of a row, and -it's good for a half column on the first page of the evening papers. -Result, a jam that night at the performance, and a new lease of life -for the Play. Egleston comes on, bruised and battered, and perhaps -with a limp. The Labor Unions take up the matter--it's a knock out. I'd -charge a thousand dollars for that idea if I were selling it." - -"Bruised!" I exclaimed. "Really bruised or painted on?" - -He glared at me impatiently. - -"Now see here, Bab," he said. "I'm doing this for you. You've got -to play up. And if your young man won't stand a bang in the eye, for -instance, to earn his bread and butter, he's not worth saving." - -"Who are you going to get to--to throw him out?" I asked, in a faltering -tone. - -He stopped and stared at me. - -"I like that!" he said. "It's not my play that's failing, is it? Go and -tell him the scheme, and then let his manager work it out. And tell him -who I am, and that I have a lot of ideas, but this is the only one I'm -giving away." - -We had arrived at the house by that time and I invited him to come in. -But he only glanced bitterly at the windows and observed that they had -taken in the mat with 'Welcome' on it, as far as he was concerned. And -went away. - -Although we have never had a mat with 'Welcome' on it. - -Dear Diary, I wonder if father would do it? He is gentle and -kindhearted, and it would be painful to him. But to who else can I -turn in my extremity? - -I have but one hope. My father is like me. He can be coaxed and if -kindly treated will do anything. But if approached in the wrong way, or -asked to do something against his principals, he becomes a roaring lion. - -He would never be bully-ed into giving a man work, even so touching a -personality as Adrian's. - - -LATER: I meant to ask father tonight, but he has just heard of Beresford -and is in a terrible temper. He says Sis can't marry him, because he -is sure there are plenty of things he could be doing in England, if not -actually fighting. - -"He could probably run a bus, and release some one who can fight," he -shouted. "Or he could at least do an honest day's work with his hands. -Don't let me see him, that's all." - -"Do I understand that you forbid him the house?" Leila asked, in a cold -fury. - -"Just keep him out of my sight," father snapped. "I suppose I can't keep -him from swilling tea while I am away doing my part to help the Allies." - -"Oh, rot!" said Sis, in a scornful manner. "While you help your bank -account, you mean. I don't object to that, father, but for heaven's sake -don't put it on altruistic grounds." - -She went upstairs then and banged her door, and mother merely set her -lips and said nothing. But when Beresford called, later, Tanney had to -tell him the family was out. - -Were it not for our affections, and the necessity for getting married, so -there would be an increase in the population, how happy we could all be! - - -LATER: I have seen father. - -It was a painful evening, with Sis shut away in her room, and father -cutting the ends off cigars in a viscious manner. Mother was NON EST, and -had I not had my memories, it would have been a sickning time. - -I sat very still and waited until father softened, which he usually does, -like ice cream, all at once and all over. I sat perfectly still in a -large chair, and except for an occasional sneeze, was quiet. - -Only once did my parent address me in an hour, when he said: - -"What the devil's making you sneeze so?" - -"My nose, I think, sir," I said meekly. - -"Humph!" he said. "It's rather a small nose to be making such a racket." - -I was cut to the heart, Dear Diary. One of my dearest dreams has always -been a delicate nose, slightly arched and long enough to be truly -aristocratic. Not really acqualine but on the verge. I HATE my little -nose--hate it--hate it--HATE IT. - -"Father" I said, rising and on the point of tears. "How can you! To -taunt me with what is not my own fault, but partly hereditary and partly -carelessness. For if you had pinched it in infancy it would have been a -good nose, and not a pug. And----" - -"Good gracious!" he exclaimed. "Why, Bab, I never meant to insult your -nose. As a matter of fact, it's a good nose. It's exactly the sort of -nose you ought to have. Why, what in the world would YOU do with a Roman -nose?" - -I have not been feeling very well, dear Diary, and so I suddenly began to -weep. - -"Why, chicken!" said my father. And made me sit down on his knee. "Don't -tell me that my bit of sunshine is behind a cloud!" - -"Behind a nose," I said, feebly. - -So he said he liked my nose, even although somewhat swollen, and he kissed -it, and told me I was a little fool, and at last I saw he was about -ready to be tackled. So I observed: - -"Father, will you do me a favor?" - -"Sure," he said. "How much do you need? Business is pretty good now, -and I've about landed the new order for shells for the English War -Department. I--suppose we make it fifty! Although, we'd better keep it a -secret between the two of us." - -I drew myself up, although tempted. But what was fifty dollars to doing -something for Adrian? A mere bagatelle. - -"Father," I said, "do you know Miss Everett, my English teacher?" - -He remembered the name. - -"Would you be willing to do her a great favor?" I demanded intensely. - -"What sort of a favor?" - -"Her cousin has written a play. She is very fond of her cousin, and -anxious to have him succeed. And it is a lovely play." - -He held me off and stared at me. - -"So THAT is what you were doing in that box alone!" he exclaimed. "You -incomprehensible child! Why didn't you tell your mother?" - -"Mother does not always understand," I said, in a low voice. "I thought, -by buying a box, I would do my part to help Miss Everett's cousin's play -succeed. And as a result I was dragged home, and shamefully treated in the -most mortifying manner. But I am accustomed to brutality." - -"Oh, come now," he said. "I wouldn't go as far as that, chicken. Well, I -won't finance the play, but short of that I'll do what I can." - -However he was not so agreeable when I told him Carter Brooks' plan. He -delivered a firm no. - -"Although," he said, "somebody ought to do it, and show the fallacy of -the play. In the first place, the world doesn't owe the fellow a -living, unless he will hustle around and make it. In the second place -an employer has a right to turn away a man he doesn't want. No one can -force a business to employ Labor." - -"Well," I said, "as long as Labor talks and makes a lot of noise, and -Capitol is too dignified to say anything, most people are going to side -with Labor." - -He gazed at me. - -"Right!" he said. "You've put your finger on it, in true feminine -fashion." - -"Then why won't you throw out this man when he comes to you for work? He -intends to force you to employ him." - -"Oh, he does, does he?" said father, in a fierce voice. "Well, let him -come. I can stand up for my principals, too. I'll throw him out, all -right." - -Dear Diary, the battle is over and I have won. I am very happy. How true -it is that strategy will do more than violence! - -We have arranged it all. Adrian is to go to the mill, dressed like a -decayed gentleman, and father will refuse to give him work. I have said -nothing about violence, leaving that to arrange itself. - -I must see Adrian and his manager. Carter has promised to tell some -reporters that there may be a story at the mill on Saturday morning. I -am to excited to sleep. - -Feel horrid. Forbidden to go out this morning. - - -JANUARY 25TH. Beresford was here to lunch and he and mother and Sis had -a long talk. He says he has kept it a secret because he did not want his -business known. But he is here to place a shell order for the English War -Department. - -"Well," Leila said, "I can hardly wait to tell father and see him curl -up." - -"No, no," said Beresford, hastily. "Really you must allow me. I must -inform him myself. I am sure you can see why. This is a thing for men to -settle. Besides, it is a delicate matter. Mr. Archibald is trying to get -the order, and our New York office, if I am willing, is ready to place -it with him." - -"Well!" said Leila, in a thunderstruck tone. "If you British don't beat -anything for keeping your own Counsel!" - -I could see that he had her hand under the table. It was sickening. - -Jane came to see me after lunch. The wedding was that night, and I had -to sit through silver vegetable dishes, and after-dinner coffee sets and -plates and a grand piano and a set of gold vases and a cabushion sapphire -and the bridesmaid's clothes and the wedding supper and heaven knows -what. But at last she said: - -"You dear thing--how weary and wan you look!" - -I closed my eyes. - -"But you don't intend to give him up, do you?" - -"Look at me!" I said, in imperious tones. "Do I look like one who would -give him up, because of family objections?" - -"How brave you are!" she observed. "Bab, I am green with envy. When I -think of the way he looked at you, and the tones of his voice when he -made love to that--that creature, I am positively SHAKEN." - -We sat in somber silence. Then she said: - -"I daresay he detests the heroine, doesn't he?" - -"He tolerates her," I said, with a shrug. - -More silence. I rang for Hannah to bring some ice water. We were in my -boudoir. - -"I saw him yesterday," said Jane, when Hannah had gone. - -"Jane!" - -"In the park. He was with the woman that plays the Adventuress. Ugly old -thing." - -I drew a long breath of relief. For I knew that the adventuress was at -least thirty and perhaps more. Besides being both wicked and cruel, and -not at all feminine. - -Hannah brought the ice-water and then came in the most maddening way and -put her hand on my forehead. - -"I've done nothing but bring you ice-water for two days," she said. "Your -head's hot. I think you need a mustard foot bath and to go to bed." - -"Hannah," Jane said, in her loftiest fashion, "Miss Barbara is worried, -not ill. And please close the door when you go out." - -Which was her way of telling Hannah to go. Hannah glared at her. - -"If you take my advice, Miss Jane," she said. "You'll keep away from -Miss Barbara." - -And she went out, slamming the door. - -"Well!" gasped Jane. "Such impertinence. Old servant or not, she ought -to have her mouth slapped." - -Well, I told Jane the plan and she was perfectly crazy about it. I had -a headache, but she helped me into my street things, and got Sis's rose -hat for me while Sis was at the telephone. Then we went out. - -First we telephoned Carter Brooks, and he said tomorrow morning would -do, and he'd give a couple of reporters the word to hang around father's -office at the mill. He said to have Adrian there at ten o'clock. - -"Are you sure your father will do it?" he asked. "We don't want a -fliver, you know." - -"He's making a principal of it," I said. "When he makes a principal of a -thing, he does it." - -"Good for father!" Carter said. "Tell him not to be to gentle. And tell -your actor-friend to make a lot of fuss. The more the better. I'll see -the policeman at the mill, and he'll probably take him up. But we'll get -him out for the matinee. And watch the evening papers." - -It was then that a terrible thought struck me. What if Adrian considered -it beneath his profession to advertize, even if indirectly? What if he -preferred the failure of Miss Everett's cousin's play to a bruise on the -eye? What, in short, if he refused? - -Dear Dairy, I was stupified. I knew not which way to turn. For men are -not like women, who are dependable and anxious to get along, and will -sacrifice anything for success. No, men are likely to turn on the ones -they love best, if the smallest things do not suit them, such as cold -soup, or sleeves too long from the shirt-maker, or plans made which they -have not been consulted about beforehand. - -"Darling!" said Jane, as I turned away, "you look STRICKEN!" - -"My head aches," I said, with a weary gesture toward my forehead. It did -ache, for that matter. It is aching now, dear Dairy. - -However, I had begun my task and must go through with it. Abandoning -Jane at a corner, in spite of her calling me cruel and even sneaking, I -went to Adrian's hotel, which I had learned of during my seance in -his room while he was changing his garments behind a screen, as it was -marked on a dressing case. - -It was then five o'clock. - -How nervous I felt as I sent up my name to his chamber. Oh, Dear Diary, -to think that it was but five hours ago that I sat and waited, while -people who guessed not the inner trepidation of my heart past and -repast, and glanced at me and at Leila's pink hat above. - -At last he came. My heart beat thunderously, as he approached, striding -along in that familiar walk, swinging his strong and tender arms. And I! -I beheld him coming and could think of not a word to say. - -"Well!" he said, pausing in front of me. "I knew I was going to be lucky -today. Friday is my best day." - -"I was born on Friday," I said. I could think of nothing else. - -"Didn't I say it was my lucky day? But you mustn't sit here. What do you -say to a cup of tea in the restaurant?" - -How grown up and like a debutante I felt, Dear Diary, going to have -tea as if I had it every day at school, with a handsome actor across! -Although somewhat uneasy also, owing to the possibility of the family -coming in. But it did not and I had a truly happy hour, not at all -spoiled by looking out the window and seeing Jane going by, with her -eyes popping out, and walking very slowly so I would invite her to come -in. - -WHICH I DID NOT. - -Dear Diary, HE WILL DO IT. At first he did not understand, and looked -astounded. But when I told him of Carter being in the advertizing -business, and father owning a large mill, and that there would be -reporters and so on, he became thoughtful. - -"It's really incredibly clever," he said. "And if it's pulled off right -it ought to be a stampede. But I'd like to see Mr. Brooks. We can't have -it fail, you know." He leaned over the table. "It's straight goods, is -it, Miss er--Barbara? There's nothing phoney about it?" - -"Phoney!" I said, drawing back. "Certainly not." - -He kept on leaning over the table. - -"I wonder," he said, "what makes you so interested in the play?" - -Oh, Diary, Diary! - -And just then I looked up, and the adventuress was staring in the door -at me with the meanest look on her face. - -I draw a veil over the remainder of our happy hour. Suffice it to say -that he considers me exactly the type he finds most attractive, and that -he does not consider my nose too short. We had a long dispute about this. -He thinks I am wrong and says I am not an aquiline type. He says I am -romantic and of a loving disposition. Also somewhat reckless, and he -gave me good advice about doing what my family consider for my good, at -least until I come out. - -But our talk was all too short, for a fat man with three rings on came -in, and sat down with us, and ordered a whiskey and soda. My blood -turned cold, for fear some one I knew would come in and see me sitting -there in a drinking party. - -And my blood was right to turn cold. For, just as he had told the -manager about the arrangement I had made, and the manager said "Bully" -and raised his glass to drink to me I looked across and there was -mother's aunt, old Susan Paget, sitting near, with the most awful face -I ever saw! - -I collapsed in my chair. - -Dear Diary, I only remember saying, "Well, remember, ten o'clock. And -dress up like a gentleman in hard luck," and his saying: "Well, I hope -I'm a gentleman, and the hard luck's no joke," and then I went away. - -And now, Dear Diary, I am in bed, and every time the telephone rings -I have a chill. And in between times I drink ice-water and sneeze. How -terrible a thing is love. - - -LATER: I can hardly write. Switzerland is a settled thing. Father is not -home tonight and I cannot appeal to him. Susan Paget said I was drinking -too, and mother is having the vibrator used on her spine. If I felt -better I would run away. - - -JANUARY 26TH. How can I write what has happened? It is so terrible. - -Beresford went at ten o'clock to ask for Leila, and did not send in his -card for fear father would refuse to see him. And father thought, from -his saying that he had come to ask for something, and so on, that it -was Adrian, and threw him out. He ordered him out first, and Beresford -refused to go, and they had words, and then there was a fight. The -reporters got it, and it is in all the papers. Hannah has just brought -one in. It is headed "Manufacturer assaults Peer." Leila is in bed, and -the doctor is with her. - - -LATER: Adrian has disappeared. The manager has just called up, and with -shaking knees I went to the telephone. Adrian went to the mill a little -after ten, and has not been seen since. - -It is in vain I protest that he has not eloped with me. It is almost -time now for the matinee and no Adrian. What shall I do? - - -SATURDAY, 11 P.M. Dear Diary, I have the measles. I am all broken out, -and look horrible. But what is a sickness of the body compared to the -agony of my mind? Oh, Dear Diary, to think of what has happened since -last I saw your stainless pages! - -What is a sickness to a broken heart? And to a heart broken while trying -to help another who did not deserve to be helped. But if he deceived me, -he has paid for it, and did until he was rescued at ten o'clock tonight. - -I have been given a sleeping medicine, and until it takes affect I shall -write out the tragedy of this day, omitting nothing. The trained nurse -is asleep on a cot, and her cap is hanging on the foot of the bed. - -I have tried it on, Dear Diary, and it is very becoming. If they insist -on Switzerland I think I shall run away and be a trained nurse. It is -easy work, although sleeping on a cot is not always comfortable. But -at least a trained nurse leads her own life and is not bullied by her -family. And more, she does good constantly. - -I feel tonight that I should like to do good, and help the sick, and -perhaps go to the front. I know a lot of college men in the American -Ambulance. - -I shall never go on the stage, Dear Diary. I know now its deceitfulness -and vicissitudes. My heart has bled until it can bleed no more, as a -result of a theatrical Adonis. I am through with the theater forever. - -I shall begin at the beginning. I left off where Adrian had disappeared. - -Although feeling very strange, and looking a queer red color in my -mirror, I rose and dressed myself. I felt that something had slipped, and -I must find Adrian. (It is strange with what coldness I write that once -beloved name.) - -While dressing I perceived that my chest and arms were covered -with small red dots, but I had no time to think of myself. I slipped -downstairs and outside the drawing room I heard mother conversing in a -loud and angry tone with a visitor. I glanced in, and ye gods! - -It was the adventuress. - -Drawing somewhat back, I listened. Oh, Diary, what a revelation! - -"But I MUST see her," she was saying. "Time is flying. In a half hour -the performance begins, and--he cannot be found." - -"I can't understand," mother said, in a stiff manner. "What can my -daughter Barbara know about him?" - -The adventuress sniffed. "Humph!" she said. "She knows, alright. And -I'd like to see her in a hurry, if she is in the house." - -"Certainly she is in the house," said mother. - -"ARE YOU SURE OF THAT? Because I have every reason to believe she has -run away with him. She has been hanging around him all week, and only -yesterday afternoon I found them together. She had some sort of a scheme, -he said afterwards, and he wrinkled a coat under his mattress last -night. He said it was to look as if he had slept in it. I know nothing -further of your daughter's scheme. But I know he went out to meet her. He -has not been seen since. His manager has hunted for to hours." - -"Just a moment," said mother, in a frigid tone. "Am I to understand -that this--this Mr. Egleston is----" - -"He is my Husband." - -Ah, Dear Diary, that I might then and there have passed away. But I did -not. I stood there, with my heart crushed, until I felt strong enough to -escape. Then I fled, like a guilty soul. It was ghastly. - -On the doorstep I met Jane. She gazed at me strangely when she saw my -face, and then clutched me by the arm. - -"Bab!" she cried. "What on the earth is the matter with your -complexion?" - -But I was desperate. - -"Let me go!" I said. "Only lend me two dollars for a taxi and let me go. -Something horrible has happened." - -She gave me ninety cents, which was all she had, and I rushed down the -street, followed by her piercing gaze. - -Although realizing that my life, at least the part of it pertaining to -sentiment, was over, I knew that, single or married, I must find him. -I could not bare to think that I, in my desire to help, had ruined -Miss Everett's cousin's play. Luckily I got a taxi at the corner, and -I ordered it to drive to the mill. I sank back, bathed in hot -perspiration, and on consulting my bracelet watch found I had but twenty -five minutes until the curtain went up. - -I must find him, but where and how! I confess for a moment that I -doubted my own father, who can be very fierce on occasion. What if, -maddened by his mistake about Beresford, he had, on being approached by -Adrian, been driven to violence? What if, in my endeavor to help one who -was unworthy, I had led my poor paternal parent into crime? - -Hell is paved with good intentions. SAMUEL JOHNSTON. - - -On driving madly into the mill yard, I suddenly remembered that it was -Saturday and a half holiday. The mill was going, but the offices were -closed. Father, then, was immured in the safety of his club, and could -not be reached except by pay telephone. And the taxi was now ninety -cents. - -I got out, and paid the man. I felt very dizzy and queer, and was very -thirsty, so I went to the hydrant in the yard and got a drink of water. -I did not as yet suspect measles, but laid it all to my agony of mind. - -Having thus refreshed myself, I looked about, and saw the yard -policeman, a new one who did not know me, as I am away at school most of -the time, and the family is not expected to visit the mill, because of -dirt and possible accidents. - -I approached him, however, and he stood still and stared at me. - -"Officer" I said, in my most dignified tones. "I am looking for a--for a -gentleman who came here this morning to look for work." - -"There was about two hundred lined up here this morning, Miss," he said. -"Which one would it be, now?" - -How my heart sank! - -"About what time would he be coming?" he said. "Things have been kind of -mixed-up around here today, owing to a little trouble this morning. But -perhaps I'll remember him." - -But, although Adrian is of an unusual type, I felt that I could not -describe him, besides having a terrible headache. So I asked if he would -lend me carfare, which he did with a strange look. - -"You're not feeling sick, Miss, are you?" he said. But I could not stay -to converse, as it was then time for the curtain to go up, and still no -Adrian. - -I had but one refuge in mind, Carter Brooks, and to him I fled on the -wings of misery in the street car. I burst into his advertizing office -like a fury. - -"Where is he?" I demanded. "Where have you and your plotting hidden -him?" - -"Who? Beresford?" he asked in a placid manner. "He is at his hotel, I -believe, putting beefsteak on a bad eye. Believe me, Bab----" - -"Beresford!" I cried, in scorn and wretchedness. "What is he to me? Or -his eye either? I refer to Mr. Egleston. It is time for the curtain -to go up now, and unless he has by this time returned, there can be no -performance." - -"Look here," Carter said suddenly, "you look awfully queer, Bab. Your -face----" - -I stamped my foot. - -"What does my face matter?" I demanded. "I no longer care for him, but I -have ruined Miss Everett's cousin's play unless he turns up. Am I to be -sent to Switzerland with that on my soul?" - -"Switzerland!" he said slowly. "Why, Bab, they're not going to do that, -are they? I--I don't want you so far away." - -Dear Dairy, I am unsuspicious by nature, believing all mankind to be my -friends until proven otherwise. But there was a gloating look in Carter -Brooks' eyes as they turned on me. - -"Carter!" I said, "you know where he is and you will not tell me. You -WISH to ruin him." - -I was about to put my hand on his arm, but he drew away. - -"Look here," he said. "I'll tell you something, but please keep back. -Because you look like smallpox to me. I was at the mill this morning. -I do not know anything about your actor-friend. He's probably only -been run over or something. But I saw Beresford going in, and I--well, I -suggested that he'd better walk in on your father or he wouldn't get in. -It worked, Bab. HOW IT DID WORK! He went in and said he had come to ask -your father for something, and your father blew up by saying that he knew -about it, but that the world only owed a living to the man who would -hustle for it, and that he would not be forced to take any one he did -not want. - -"And in two minutes Beresford hit him, and got a response. It was a -million dollars worth." - -So he babbled on. But what were his words to me? - -Dear Diary, I gave no thought to the smallpox he had mentioned, although -fatal to the complexion. Or to the fight at the mill. I heard only -Adrian's possible tragic fate. Suddenly I collapsed, and asked for a -drink of water, feeling horrible, very wobbly and unable to keep my -knees from bending. - -And the next thing I remember is father taking me home, and Adrian's -fate still a deep mystery, and remaining such, while I had a warm sponge -to bring out the rest of the rash, followed by a sleep--it being measles -and not smallpox. - -Oh, Dear Diary, what a story I learned when having wakened and feeling -better, my father came tonight and talked to me from the doorway, not -being allowed in. - -Adrian had gone to the mill, and father, having thrown Beresford out -and asserted his principals, had not thrown him out, BUT HAD GIVEN HIM -A JOB IN THE MILL. And the Policeman had given him no chance to escape, -which he attempted. He was dragged to the shell plant and there locked -in, because of spies. The plant is under military guard. - -And there he had been compelled to drag a wheelbarrow back and forth -containing charcoal for a small furnace, for hours! - -Even when Carter found him he could not be released, as father was in -hiding from reporters, and would not go to the telephone or see callers. - -He labored until 10 p.m., while the theater remained dark, and people -got their money back. - -I have ruined him. I have also ruined Miss Everett's cousin. - -* * * * * - -The nurse is still asleep. I think I will enter a hospital. My career is -ended, my life is blasted. - -I reach under the mattress and draw out the picture of him who today -I have ruined, compelling him to do manual labor for hours, although -unaccustomed to it. He is a great actor, and I believe has a future. But -my love for him is dead. Dear Diary, he deceived me, and that is one -thing I cannot forgive. - -So now I sit here among my pillows, while the nurse sleeps, and I -reflect about many things. But one speech rings in my ears over and -over. - -Carter Brooks, on learning about Switzerland, said it in a strange -manner, looking at me with inscrutable eyes. - -"Switzerland! Why, Bab--I don't want you to go so far away." - -WHAT DID HE MEAN BY IT? - -* * * * * - -Dear Dairy, you will have to be burned, I daresay. Perhaps it is as well. -I have p o r e d out my H-e-a-r-t---- - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Bab: A Sub-Deb, by Mary Roberts Rinehart - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BAB: A SUB-DEB *** - -***** This file should be named 366.txt or 366.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/366/ - -Produced by Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteers - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Bab: A Sub-Deb - -Author: Mary Roberts Rinehart - -Release Date: November, 1995 [EBook #366] -Last Updated: February 28, 2015 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BAB: A SUB-DEB *** - - - - -Produced by Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteers - - - - - -</pre> - <div style="height: 8em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h1> - BAB: A SUB-DEB - </h1> - <h2> - By Mary Roberts Rinehart - </h2> - <h5> - Author Of "K," "The Circular Staircase," "Kings, Queens And Pawns," Etc. - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - <b>CONTENTS</b> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. THE SUB-DEB: A THEME WRITTEN AND - SUBMITTED IN LITERATURE CLASS BY BARBARA PUTNAM ARCHIBALD, 1917. </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_INTR"> INTRODUCTION </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. THEME: THE CELEBRITY </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. HER DIARY: BEING THE DAILY JOURNAL - OF THE SUB-DEB </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER I. THE SUB-DEB: A THEME WRITTEN AND SUBMITTED IN LITERATURE CLASS - BY BARBARA PUTNAM ARCHIBALD, 1917. - </h2> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <h3> - DEFINITION OF A THEME: - </h3> - <p> - A theme is a piece of writing, either true or made up by the author, and - consisting of Introduction, Body and Conclusion. It should contain Unity, - Coherence, Emphasis, Perspecuity, Vivacity, and Precision. It may be - ornamented with dialogue, description and choice quotations. - </p> - <h3> - SUBJECT OF THEME: - </h3> - <p> - An interesting Incident of My Christmas Holadays. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_INTR" id="link2H_INTR"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - INTRODUCTION: - </h2> - <p> - "A tyrant's power in rigor is exprest."—DRYDEN. - </p> - <p> - I have decided to relate with precision what occurred during my recent - Christmas holiday. Although I was away from this school only four days, - returning unexpectedly the day after Christmas, a number of Incidents - occurred which I believe I should narrate. - </p> - <p> - It is only just and fair that the Upper House, at least, should know of - the injustice of my exile, and that it is all the result of circumstances - over which I had no control. - </p> - <p> - For I make this appeal, and with good reason. Is it any fault of mine that - my sister Leila is 20 months older than I am? Naturally, no. - </p> - <p> - Is it fair also, I ask, that in the best society, a girl is a Sub-Deb the - year before she comes out, and although mature in mind, and even maturer - in many ways than her older sister, the latter is treated as a young lady, - enjoying many privileges, while the former is treated as a mere child, in - spite, as I have observed, of only 20 months difference? I wish to place - myself on record that it is NOT fair. - </p> - <p> - I shall go back, for a short time, to the way things were at home when I - was small. I was very strictly raised. With the exception of Tommy Gray, - who lives next door and only is about my age, I was never permitted to - know any of the Other Sex. - </p> - <p> - Looking back, I am sure that the present way society is organized is - really to blame for everything. I am being frank, and that is the way I - feel. I was too strictly raised. I always had a governess tagging along. - Until I came here to school I had never walked to the corner of the next - street unattended. If it wasn't Mademoiselle, it was mother's maid, and if - it wasn't either of them, it was mother herself, telling me to hold my - toes out and my shoulder blades in. As I have said, I never knew any of - the Other Sex, except the miserable little beasts at dancing school. I - used to make faces at them when Mademoiselle was putting on my slippers - and pulling out my hair bow. They were totally uninteresting, and I used - to put pins in my sash, so that they would get scratched. - </p> - <p> - Their pumps mostly squeaked, and nobody noticed it, although I have known - my parents to dismiss a Butler who creaked at the table. - </p> - <p> - When I was sent away to school, I expected to learn something of life. But - I was disappointed. I do not desire to criticize this institution of - learning. It is an excellent one, as is shown by the fact that the best - families send their daughters here. But to learn life one must know - something of both sides of it, male and female. It was, therefore, a - matter of deep regret to me to find that, with the exception of the - dancing master, who has three children, and the gardener, there were no - members of the sterner sex to be seen. - </p> - <p> - The athletic coach was a girl! As she has left now to be married, I - venture to say that she was not what Lord Chesterfield so euphoniously - termed "SUAVITER IN MODO, FORTATER IN RE." - </p> - <p> - When we go out to walk we are taken to the country, and the three matinees - a year we see in the city are mostly Shakespeare, arranged for the young. - We are allowed only certain magazines, the Atlantic Monthly and one or two - others, and Barbara Armstrong was penalized for having a framed photograph - of her brother in running clothes. - </p> - <p> - At the school dances we are compelled to dance with each other, and the - result is that when at home at Holiday parties I always try to lead, which - annoys the boys I dance with. - </p> - <p> - Notwithstanding all this it is an excellent school. We learn a great deal, - and our dear principal is a most charming and erudite person. But we see - very little of life. And if school is a preparation for life, where are - we? - </p> - <p> - Being here alone since the day after Christmas, I have had time to think - everything out. I am naturally a thinking person. And now I am no longer - indignant. I realize that I was wrong, and that I am only paying the - penalty that I deserve although I consider it most unfair to be given - French translation to do. I do not object to going to bed at nine o'clock, - although ten is the hour in the Upper House, because I have time then to - look back over things, and to reflect, to think. - </p> - <p> - "There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." - SHAKESPEARE. - </p> - <h3> - BODY OF THEME: - </h3> - <p> - I now approach the narrative of what happened during the first four days - of my Christmas Holiday. - </p> - <p> - For a period before the fifteenth of December, I was rather worried. All - the girls in the school were getting new clothes for Christmas parties, - and their Families were sending on invitations in great numbers, to - various festivities that were to occur when they went home. - </p> - <p> - Nothing, however, had come for me, and I was worried. But on the 16th - mother's visiting Secretary sent on four that I was to accept, with tiped - acceptances for me to copy and send. She also sent me the good news that I - was to have two party dresses, and I was to send on my measurements for - them. - </p> - <p> - One of the parties was a dinner and theater party, to be given by Carter - Brooks on New Year's Day. Carter Brooks is the well-known Yale Center, - although now no longer such but selling advertizing, ecetera. - </p> - <p> - It is tragic to think that, after having so long anticipated that party, I - am now here in sackcloth and ashes, which is a figure of speech for the - Peter Thompson uniform of the school, with plain white for evenings and no - jewelry. - </p> - <p> - It was with anticipatory joy, therefore, that I sent the acceptances and - the desired measurements, and sat down to cheerfully while away the time - in studies and the various duties of school life, until the Holidays. - </p> - <p> - However, I was not long to rest in piece, for in a few days I received a - letter from Carter Brooks, as follows: - </p> - <p> - DEAR BARBARA: It was sweet of you to write me so promptly, although I - confess to being rather astonished as well as delighted at being called - "Dearest." The signature too was charming, "Ever thine." But, dear child, - won't you write at once and tell me why the waist, bust and hip - measurements? And the request to have them really low in the neck? Ever - thine, CARTER. - </p> - <p> - It will be perceived that I had sent him the letter to mother, by mistake. - </p> - <p> - I was very unhappy about it. It was not an auspicious way to begin the - holidays, especially the low neck. Also I disliked very much having told - him my waist measure which is large owing to basket ball. - </p> - <p> - As I have stated before, I have known very few of the Other Sex, but some - of the girls had had more experience, and in the days before we went home, - we talked a great deal about things. Especially Love. I felt that it was - rather over-done, particularly in fiction. Also I felt and observed at - divers times that I would never marry. It was my intention to go upon the - stage, although modified since by what I am about to relate. - </p> - <p> - The other girls say that I look like Julia Marlowe. - </p> - <p> - Some of the girls had boys who wrote to them, and one of them—I - refrain from giving her name had—a Code. You read every third word. - He called her "Cousin" and he would write like this: - </p> - <p> - Dear Cousin: I am well. Am just about crazy this week to go home. See - notice enclosed you football game. - </p> - <p> - And so on and on. Only what it really said was "I am crazy to see you." - </p> - <p> - (In giving this code I am betraying no secrets, as they have quarreled and - everything is now over between them.) - </p> - <p> - As I had nobody, at that time, and as I had visions of a career, I was a - man-hater. I acknowledge that this was a pose. But after all, what is life - but a pose? - </p> - <p> - "Stupid things!" I always said. "Nothing in their heads but football and - tobacco smoke. Women," I said, "are only their playthings. And when they - do grow up and get a little intelligence they use it in making money." - </p> - <p> - There has been a story in the school—I got it from one of the little - girls—that I was disappointed in love in early youth, the object of - my attachment having been the tenor in our church choir at home. I daresay - I should have denied the soft impeachment, but I did not. It was, although - not appearing so at the time, my first downward step on the path that - leads to destruction. - </p> - <p> - "The way of the transgressor is hard"—Bible. - </p> - <p> - I come now to the momentous day of my return to my dear home for - Christmas. Father and my sister Leila, who from now on I will term "Sis," - met me at the station. Sis was very elegantly dressed, and she said: - </p> - <p> - "Hello, Kid," and turned her cheek for me to kiss. - </p> - <p> - She is, as I have stated, but 20 months older than I, and depends - altogether on her clothes for her beauty. In the morning she is plain, - although having a good skin. She was trimmed up with a bouquet of violets - as large as a dishpan, and she covered them with her hands when I kissed - her. - </p> - <p> - She was waved and powdered, and she had on a perfectly new outfit. And I - was shabby. That is the exact word. Shabby. If you have to hang your - entire wardrobe in a closet ten inches deep, and put it over you on cold - nights, with the steam heat shut off at ten o'clock, it does not make it - look any better. - </p> - <p> - My father has always been my favorite member of the family, and he was - very glad to see me. He has a great deal of tact, also, and later on he - slipped ten dollars in my purse in the motor. I needed it very much, as - after I had paid the porter and bought luncheon, I had only three dollars - left and an I. O. U. from one of the girls for seventy-five cents, which - this may remind her, if it is read in class, she has forgotten. - </p> - <p> - "Good heavens, Barbara," Sis said, while I hugged father, "you certainly - need to be pressed." - </p> - <p> - "I daresay I'll be the better for a hot iron," I retorted, "but at least I - shan't need it on my hair." My hair is curly while hers is straight. - </p> - <p> - "Boarding school wit!" she said, and stocked to the motor. - </p> - <p> - Mother was in the car and glad to see me, but as usual she managed to - restrain her enthusiasm. She put her hands over some orchids she was - wearing when I kissed her. She and Sis were on their way to something or - other. - </p> - <p> - "Trimmed up like Easter hats, you two!" I said. - </p> - <p> - "School has not changed you, I fear, Barbara," mother observed. "I hope - you are studying hard." - </p> - <p> - "Exactly as hard as I have to. No more, no less," I regret to confess that - I replied. And I saw Sis and mother exchange glances of significance. - </p> - <p> - We dropped them at the reception and father went to his office and I went - on home alone. And all at once I began to be embittered. Sis had - everything, and what had I? And when I got home, and saw that Sis had had - her room done over, and ivory toilet things on her dressing table, and two - perfectly huge boxes of candy on a stand and a ball gown laid out on the - bed, I almost wept. - </p> - <p> - My own room was just as I had left it. It had been the night nursery, and - there was still the dent in the mantel where I had thrown a hair brush at - Sis, and the ink spot on the carpet at the foot of the bed, and - everything. - </p> - <p> - Mademoiselle had gone, and Hannah, mother's maid, came to help me off with - my things. I slammed the door in her face, and sat down on the bed and - RAGED. - </p> - <p> - They still thought I was a little girl. They PATRONIZED me. I would hardly - have been surprised if they had sent up a bread and milk supper on a tray. - It was then and there that I made up my mind to show them that I was no - longer a mere child. That the time was gone when they could shut me up in - the nursery and forget me. I was seventeen years and eleven days old, and - Juliet, in Shakespeare, was only sixteen when she had her well-known - affair with Romeo. - </p> - <p> - I had no plan then. It was not until the next afternoon that the thing - sprung (sprang?) fullblown from the head of Jove. - </p> - <p> - The evening was rather dreary. The family was going out, but not until - nine thirty, and mother and Leila went over my clothes. They sat, Sis in - pink chiffon and mother in black and silver, and Hannah took out my things - and held them up. I was obliged to silently sit by, while my rags and - misery were exposed. - </p> - <p> - "Why this open humiliation?" I demanded at last. "I am the family - Cinderella, I admit it. But it isn't necessary to lay so much emphasis on - it, is it?" - </p> - <p> - "Don't be sarcastic, Barbara," said mother. "You are still only a child, - and a very untidy child at that. What do you do with your elbows to rub - them through so? It must have taken patience and application." - </p> - <p> - "Mother" I said, "am I to have the party dresses?" - </p> - <p> - "Two. Very simple." - </p> - <p> - "Low in the neck?" - </p> - <p> - "Certainly not. A small v, perhaps." - </p> - <p> - "I've got a good neck." She rose impressively. - </p> - <p> - "You amaze and shock me, Barbara," she said coldly. - </p> - <p> - "I shouldn't have to wear tulle around my shoulders to hide the bones!" I - retorted. "Sis is rather thin." - </p> - <p> - "You are a very sharp-tongued little girl," mother said, looking up at me. - I am two inches taller than she is. - </p> - <p> - "Unless you learn to curb yourself, there will be no parties for you, and - no party dresses." - </p> - <p> - This was the speech that broke the camel's back. I could endure no more. - </p> - <p> - "I think," I said, "that I shall get married and end everything." - </p> - <p> - Need I explain that I had no serious intention of taking the fatal step? - But it was not deliberate mendacity. It was despair. - </p> - <p> - Mother actually went white. She clutched me by the arm and shook me. - </p> - <p> - "What are you saying?" she demanded. - </p> - <p> - "I think you heard me, mother" I said, very politely. I was however - thinking hard. - </p> - <p> - "Marry whom? Barbara, answer me." - </p> - <p> - "I don't know. Anybody." - </p> - <p> - "She's trying to frighten you, mother" Sis said. "There isn't anybody. - Don't let her fool you." - </p> - <p> - "Oh, isn't there?" I said in a dark and portentous manner. - </p> - <p> - Mother gave me a long look, and went out. I heard her go into father's - dressing-room. But Sis sat on my bed and watched me. - </p> - <p> - "Who is it, Bab?" she asked. "The dancing teacher? Or your riding master? - Or the school plumber?" - </p> - <p> - "Guess again." - </p> - <p> - "You're just enough of a little simpleton to get tied up to some wretched - creature and disgrace us all." - </p> - <p> - I wish to state here that until that moment I had no intention of going - any further with the miserable business. I am naturally truthful, and - deception is hateful to me. But when my sister uttered the above - disparaging remark I saw that, to preserve my own dignity, which I value - above precious stones, I would be compelled to go on. - </p> - <p> - "I'm perfectly mad about him," I said. "And he's crazy about me." - </p> - <p> - "I'd like very much to know," Sis said, as she stood up and stared at me, - "how much you are making up and how much is true." - </p> - <p> - None the less, I saw that she was terrified. The family kitten, to speak - in allegory, had become a lion and showed its claws. - </p> - <p> - When she had gone out I tried to think of some one to hang a love affair - to. But there seemed to be nobody. They knew perfectly well that the - dancing master had one eye and three children, and that the clergyman at - school was elderly, with two wives. One dead. - </p> - <p> - I searched my past, but it was blameless. It was empty and bare, and as I - looked back and saw how little there had been in it but imbibing wisdom - and playing basket-ball and tennis, and typhoid fever when I was fourteen - and almost having to have my head shaved, a great wave of bitterness - agitated me. - </p> - <p> - "Never again," I observed to myself with firmness. "Never again, if I have - to invent a member of the Other Sex." - </p> - <p> - At that time, however, owing to the appearance of Hannah with a mending - basket, I got no further than his name. - </p> - <p> - It was Harold. I decided to have him dark, with a very small black - mustache, and passionate eyes. I felt, too, that he would be jealous. The - eyes would be of the smoldering type, showing the green-eyed monster - beneath. - </p> - <p> - I was very much cheered up. At least they could not ignore me any more, - and I felt that they would see the point. If I was old enough to have a - lover—especially a jealous one with the aforementioned eyes—I - was old enough to have the necks of my frocks cut out. - </p> - <p> - While they were getting their wraps on in the lower hall, I counted my - money. I had thirteen dollars. It was enough for a plan I was beginning to - have in mind. - </p> - <p> - "Go to bed early, Barbara," mother said when they were ready to go out. - </p> - <p> - "You don't mind if I write a letter, do you?" - </p> - <p> - "To whom?" - </p> - <p> - "Oh, just a letter," I said, and she stared at me coldly. - </p> - <p> - "I daresay you will write it, whether I consent or not. Leave it on the - hall table, and it will go out with the morning mail." - </p> - <p> - "I may run out to the box with it." - </p> - <p> - "I forbid your doing anything of the sort." - </p> - <p> - "Oh, very well," I responded meekly. - </p> - <p> - "If there is such haste about it, give it to Hannah to mail." - </p> - <p> - "Very well," I said. - </p> - <p> - She made an excuse to see Hannah before she left, and I knew THAT I WAS - BEING WATCHED. I was greatly excited, and happier than I had been for - weeks. But when I had settled myself in the library, with the paper in - front of me, I could not think of anything to say in a letter. So I wrote - a poem instead. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - "To H—— - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - "Dear love: you seem so far away, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - I would that you were near. - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - I do so long to hear you say - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Again, 'I love you, dear.' - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - "Here all is cold and drear and strange - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - With none who with me tarry, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - I hope that soon we can arrange - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - To run away and marry." - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - The last verse did not scan, exactly, but I wished to use the word "marry" - if possible. It would show, I felt, that things were really serious and - impending. A love affair is only a love affair, but marriage is marriage, - and the end of everything. - </p> - <p> - It was at that moment, 10 o'clock, that the strange thing occurred which - did not seem strange at all at the time, but which developed into so great - a mystery later on. Which was to actually threaten my reason and which, - flying on winged feet, was to send me back here to school the day after - Christmas and put my seed pearl necklace in the safe deposit vault. Which - was very unfair, for what had my necklace to do with it? And just now, - when I need comfort, it—the necklace—would help to relieve my - exile. - </p> - <p> - Hannah brought me in a cup of hot milk, with a Valentine's malted milk - tablet dissolved in it. - </p> - <p> - As I stirred it around, it occurred to me that Valentine would be a good - name for Harold. On the spot I named him Harold Valentine, and I wrote the - name on the envelope that had the poem inside, and addressed it to the - town where this school gets its mail. - </p> - <p> - It looked well written out. "Valentine," also, is a word that naturally - connects itself with AFFAIRS DE COUR. And I felt that I was safe, for as - there was no Harold Valentine, he could not call for the letter at the - post office, and would therefore not be able to cause me any trouble, - under any circumstances. And, furthermore. I knew that Hannah would not - mail the letter anyhow, but would give it to mother. So, even if there was - a Harold Valentine, he would never get it. - </p> - <p> - Comforted by these reflections, I drank my malted milk, ignorant of the - fact that destiny, "which never swerves, nor yields to men the helm"—Emerson, - was stocking at my heels. - </p> - <p> - Between sips, as the expression goes, I addressed the envelope to Harold - Valentine, and gave it to Hannah. She went out the front door with it, as - I had expected, but I watched from a window, and she turned right around - and went in the area way. So THAT was all right. - </p> - <p> - It had worked like a Charm. I could tear my hair now when I think how well - it worked. I ought to have been suspicious for that very reason. When - things go very well with me at the start, it is a sure sign that they are - going to blow up eventually. - </p> - <p> - Mother and Sis slept late the next morning, and I went out stealthily and - did some shopping. First I bought myself a bunch of violets, with a white - rose in the center, and I printed on the card: - </p> - <p> - "My love is like a white, white rose. H." And sent it to myself. - </p> - <p> - It was deception, I acknowledge, but having put my hand to the plow, I did - not intend to steer a crooked course. I would go straight to the end. I am - like that in everything I do. But, on deliberating things over, I felt - that Violets, alone and unsupported, were not enough. I felt that If I had - a photograph, it would make everything more real. After all, what is a - love affair without a picture of the Beloved Object? - </p> - <p> - So I bought a photograph. It was hard to find what I wanted, but I got it - at last in a stationer's shop, a young man in a checked suit with a small - mustache—the young man, of course, not the suit. Unluckily, he was - rather blonde, and had a dimple in his chin. But he looked exactly as - though his name ought to be Harold. - </p> - <p> - I may say here that I chose "Harold," not because it is a favorite name of - mine, but because it is romantic in sound. Also because I had never known - any one named Harold and it seemed only discrete. - </p> - <p> - I took it home in my muff and put it under my pillow where Hannah would - find it and probably take it to mother. I wanted to buy a ring too, to - hang on a ribbon around my neck. But the violets had made a fearful hole - in my thirteen dollars. - </p> - <p> - I borrowed a stub pen at the stationer's and I wrote on the photograph, in - large, sprawling letters, "To YOU from ME." - </p> - <p> - "There," I said to myself, when I put it under the pillow. "You look like - a photograph, but you are really a bomb-shell." - </p> - <p> - As things eventuated, it was. More so, indeed. - </p> - <p> - Mother sent for me when I came in. She was sitting in front of her mirror, - having the vibrator used on her hair, and her manner was changed. I - guessed that there had been a family counsel over the poem, and that they - had decided to try kindness. - </p> - <p> - "Sit down, Barbara," she said. "I hope you were not lonely last night?" - </p> - <p> - "I am never lonely, mother. I always have things to think about." - </p> - <p> - I said this in a very pathetic tone. - </p> - <p> - "What sort of things?" mother asked, rather sharply. - </p> - <p> - "Oh—things," I said vaguely. "Life is such a mess, isn't it?" - </p> - <p> - "Certainly not. Unless one makes it so." - </p> - <p> - "But it is so difficult. Things come up and—and it's hard to know - what to do. The only way, I suppose, is to be true to one's belief in - one's self." - </p> - <p> - "Take that thing off my head and go out, Hannah," mother snapped. "Now - then, Barbara, what in the world has come over you?" - </p> - <p> - "Over me? Nothing." - </p> - <p> - "You are being a silly child." - </p> - <p> - "I am no longer a child, mother. I am seventeen. And at seventeen there - are problems. After all, one's life is one's own. One must decide——" - </p> - <p> - "Now, Barbara, I am not going to have any nonsense. You must put that man - out of your head." - </p> - <p> - "Man? What man?" - </p> - <p> - "You think you are in love with some driveling young Fool. I'm not blind, - or an idiot. And I won't have it." - </p> - <p> - "I have not said that there is anyone, have I?" I said in a gentle voice. - "But if there was, just what would you propose to do, mother?" - </p> - <p> - "If you were three years younger I'd propose to spank you." Then I think - she saw that she was taking the wrong method, for she changed her tactics. - "It's the fault of that silly school," she said. (Note: These are my - mother's words, not mine.) "They are hotbeds of sickly sentimentality. - They——" - </p> - <p> - And just then the violets came, addressed to me. Mother opened them - herself, her mouth set. "My love is like a white, white rose," she said. - "Barbara, do you know who sent these?" - </p> - <p> - "Yes, mother," I said meekly. This was quite true. I did. - </p> - <p> - I am indeed sorry to record that here my mother lost her temper, and there - was no end of a fuss. It ended by mother offering me a string of seed - pearls for Christmas, and my party dresses cut V front and back, if I - would, as she phrased it, "put him out of my silly head." - </p> - <p> - "I shall have to write one letter, mother," I said, "to—to break - things off. I cannot tear myself out of another's life without a word." - </p> - <p> - She sniffed. - </p> - <p> - "Very well," she said. "One letter. I trust you to make it only one." - </p> - <p> - I come now to the next day. How true it is, that "Man's life is but a - jest, a dream, a shadow, bubble, air, a vapor at the best!" - </p> - <p> - I spent the morning with mother at the dressmakers and she chose two - perfectly spiffing things, one of white chiffon over silk, made modified - Empire, with little bunches of roses here and there on it, and when she - and the dressmaker were haggling over the roses, I took the scissors and - cut the neck of the lining two inches lower in front. The effect was - positively impressive. The other was blue over orchid, a perfectly - passionate combination. - </p> - <p> - When we got home some of the girls had dropped in, and Carter Brooks and - Sis were having tea in the den. I am perfectly sure that Sis threw a - cigarette in the fire when I went in. When I think of my sitting here - alone, when I have done NOTHING, and Sis playing around and smoking - cigarettes, and nothing said, all for a difference of 20 months, it makes - me furious. - </p> - <p> - "Let's go in and play with the children, Leila," he said. "I'm feeling - young today." - </p> - <p> - Which was perfectly silly. He is not Methuselah. Although thinking himself - so, or almost. - </p> - <p> - Well, they went into the drawing room. Elaine Adams was there waiting for - me, and Betty Anderson and Jane Raleigh. And I hadn't been in the room - five minutes before I knew that they all knew. It turned out later that - Hannah was engaged to the Adams' butler, and she had told him, and he had - told Elaine's governess, who is still there and does the ordering, and - Elaine sends her stockings home for her to darn. - </p> - <p> - Sis had told Carter, too, I saw that, and among them they had rather a - good time. Carter sat down at the piano and struck a few chords, chanting - "My Love is like a white, white rose." - </p> - <p> - "Only you know" he said, turning to me, "that's wrong. It ought to be a - 'red, red rose.'" - </p> - <p> - "Certainly not. The word is 'white.'" - </p> - <p> - "Oh, is it?" he said, with his head on one side. "Strange that both you - and Harold should have got it wrong." - </p> - <p> - I confess to a feeling of uneasiness at that moment. - </p> - <p> - Tea came, and Carter insisted on pouring. - </p> - <p> - "I do so love to pour!" he said. "Really, after a long day's shopping, tea - is the only thing that keeps me going until dinner. Cream or lemon, Leila - dear?" - </p> - <p> - "Both," Sis said in an absent manner, with her eyes on me. "Barbara, come - into the den a moment. I want to show you mother's Christmas gift." - </p> - <p> - She stocked in ahead of me, and lifted a book from the table. Under it was - the photograph. - </p> - <p> - "You wretched child!" she said. "Where did you get that?" - </p> - <p> - "That's not your affair, is it?" - </p> - <p> - "I'm going to make it my affair. Did he give it to you?" - </p> - <p> - "Have you read what's written on it?" - </p> - <p> - "Where did you meet him?" - </p> - <p> - I hesitated because I am by nature truthful. But at last I said: - </p> - <p> - "At school." - </p> - <p> - "Oh," she said slowly. "So you met him at school! What was he doing there? - Teaching elocution?" - </p> - <p> - "Elocution!" - </p> - <p> - "This is Harold, is it?" - </p> - <p> - "Certainly." Well, he WAS Harold, if I chose to call him that, wasn't he? - Sis gave a little sigh. - </p> - <p> - "You're quite hopeless, Bab. And, although I'm perfectly sure you want me - to take the thing to mother, I'll do nothing of the sort." - </p> - <p> - SHE FLUNG IT INTO THE FIRE. I was raging. It had cost me a dollar. It was - quite brown when I got it out, and a corner was burned off. But I got it. - </p> - <p> - "I'll thank you to burn your own things," I said with dignity. And I went - back to the drawing room. - </p> - <p> - The girls and Carter Brooks were talking in an undertone when I got there. - I knew it was about me. And Jane came over to me and put her arm around - me. - </p> - <p> - "You poor thing!" she said. "Just fight it out. We're all with you." - </p> - <p> - "I'm so helpless, Jane." I put all the despair I could into my voice. For - after all, if they were going to talk about my private affairs behind my - back, I felt that they might as well have something to talk about. As - Jane's second cousin once removed is in this school and as Jane will - probably write her all about it, I hope this theme is read aloud in class, - so she will get it all straight. Jane is imaginative and may have a wrong - idea of things. - </p> - <p> - "Don't give in. Let them bully you. They can't really do anything. And - they're scared. Leila is positively sick." - </p> - <p> - "I've promised to write and break it off," I said in a tense tone. - </p> - <p> - "If he really loves you," said Jane, "the letter won't matter." There was - a thrill in her voice. Had I not been uneasy at my deceit, I to would have - thrilled. - </p> - <p> - Some fresh muffins came in just then and I was starving. But I waved them - away, and stood staring at the fire. - </p> - <p> - I am writing all of this as truthfully as I can. I am not defending - myself. What I did I was driven to, as any one can see. It takes a real - shock to make the average family wake up to the fact that the youngest - daughter is not the family baby at seventeen. All I was doing was - furnishing the shock. If things turned out badly, as they did, it was - because I rather overdid the thing. That is all. My motives were perfectly - irreproachable. - </p> - <p> - Well, they fell on the muffins like pigs, and I could hardly stand it. So - I wandered into the den, and it occurred to me to write the letter then. I - felt that they all expected me to do something anyhow. - </p> - <p> - If I had never written the wretched letter things would be better now. As - I say, I overdid. But everything had gone so smoothly all day that I was - deceived. But the real reason was a new set of furs. I had secured the - dresses and the promise of the necklace on a poem and a photograph, and I - thought that a good love letter might bring a muff. It all shows that it - does not do to be grasping. - </p> - <h3> - HAD I NOT WRITTEN THE LETTER, THERE WOULD HAVE BEEN NO TRAGEDY. - </h3> - <p> - But I wrote it and if I do say it, it was a LETTER. I commenced it - "Darling," and I said I was mad to see him, and that I would always love - him. But I told him that the family objected to him, and that this was to - end everything between us. They had started the phonograph in the library, - and were playing "The Rosary." So I ended with a verse from that. It was - really a most affecting letter. I almost wept over it myself, because, if - there had been a Harold, it would have broken his Heart. - </p> - <p> - Of course I meant to give it to Hannah to mail, and she would give it to - mother. Then, after the family had read it and it had got in its work, - including the set of furs, they were welcome to mail it. It would go to - the dead letter office, since there was no Harold. It could not come back - to me, for I had only signed it "Barbara." I had it all figured out - carefully. It looked as if I had everything to gain, including the furs, - and nothing to lose. Alas, how little I knew! - </p> - <p> - "The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft allay." Burns. - </p> - <p> - Carter Brooks ambled into the room just as I sealed it and stood gazing - down at me. - </p> - <p> - "You're quite a Person these days, Bab," he said. "I suppose all the - customary Xmas kisses are being saved this year for what's his name." - </p> - <p> - "I don't understand you." - </p> - <p> - "For Harold. You know, Bab, I think I could bear up better if his name - wasn't Harold." - </p> - <p> - "I don't see how it concerns you," I responded. - </p> - <p> - "Don't you? With me crazy about you for lo, these many years! First as a - baby, then as a sub-sub-deb, and now as a sub-deb. Next year, when you are - a real debutante——" - </p> - <p> - "You've concealed your infatuation bravely." - </p> - <p> - "It's been eating me inside. A green and yellow melancholy—hello! A - letter to him!" - </p> - <p> - "Why, so it is," I said in a scornful tone. - </p> - <p> - He picked it up, and looked at it. Then he started and stared at me. - </p> - <p> - "No!" he said. "It isn't possible! It isn't old Valentine!" - </p> - <p> - Positively, my knees got cold. I never had such a shock. - </p> - <p> - "It—it certainly is Harold Valentine," I said feebly. - </p> - <p> - "Old Hal!" he muttered. "Well, who would have thought it! And not a word - to me about it, the secretive old duffer!" He held out his hand to me. - "Congratulations, Barbara," he said heartily. "Since you absolutely refuse - me, you couldn't do better. He's the finest chap I know. If it's Valentine - the family is kicking up such a row about, you leave it to me. I'll tell - them a few things." - </p> - <p> - I was stunned. Would anybody have believed it? To pick a name out of the - air, so to speak, and off a malted milk tablet, and then to find that it - actually belonged to some one—was sickening. - </p> - <p> - "It may not be the one you know" I said desperately. "It—it's a - common name. There must be plenty of Valentines." - </p> - <p> - "Sure there are, lace paper and cupids—lots of that sort. But - there's only one Harold Valentine, and now you've got him pinned to the - wall! I'll tell you what I'll do, Barbara. I'm a real friend of yours. - Always have been. Always will be. The chances are against the family - letting him get this letter. I'll give it to him." - </p> - <p> - "GIVE it to him?" - </p> - <p> - "Why, he's here. You know that, don't you? He's in town over the - holidays." - </p> - <p> - "Oh, no!" I said in a gasping Voice. - </p> - <p> - "Sorry," he said. "Probably meant it as a surprise to you. Yes, he's here, - with bells on." - </p> - <p> - He then put the letter in his pocket before my very eyes, and sat down on - the corner of the writing table! - </p> - <p> - "You don't know how all this has relieved my mind," he said. "The poor - chap's been looking down. Not interested in anything. Of course this - explains it. He's the sort to take Love hard. At college he took - everything hard—like to have died once with German measles." - </p> - <p> - He picked up a book, and the charred picture was underneath. He pounced on - it. "Pounced" is exactly the right word. - </p> - <p> - "Hello!" he said, "family again, I suppose. Yes, it's Hal, all right. - Well, who would have thought it!" - </p> - <p> - My last hope died. Then and there I had a nervous chill. I was compelled - to prop my chin on my hand to keep my teeth from chattering. - </p> - <p> - "Tell you what I'll do," he said, in a perfectly cheerful tone that made - me cold all over. "I'll be the cupid for your Valentine. See? Far be it - from me to see love's young dream wiped out by a hardhearted family. I'm - going to see this thing through. You count on me, Barbara. I'll arrange - that you get a chance to see each other, family or no family. Old Hal has - been looking down his nose long enough. When's your first party?" - </p> - <p> - "Tomorrow night," I gasped out. - </p> - <p> - "Very well. Tomorrow night it is. It's the Adams', isn't it, at the Club?" - </p> - <p> - I could only nod. I was beyond speaking. I saw it all clearly. I had been - wicked in deceiving my dear family and now I was to pay the penalty. He - would know at once that I had made him up, or rather he did not know me - and therefore could not possibly be in Love with me. And what then? - </p> - <p> - "But look here," he said, "if I take him there as Valentine, the family - will be on, you know. We'd better call him something else. Got any choice - as to a name?" - </p> - <p> - "Carter" I said frantically. "I think I'd better tell you. I——" - </p> - <p> - "How about calling him Grosvenor?". he babbled on. "Grosvenor's a good - name. Ted Grosvenor—that ought to hit them between the eyes. It's - going to be rather a lark, Miss Bab!" - </p> - <p> - And of course just then mother came in, and the Brooks idiot went in and - poured her a cup of tea, with his little finger stuck out at a right - angel, and every time he had a chance he winked at me. - </p> - <p> - I wanted to die. - </p> - <p> - When they had all gone home it seemed like a bad dream, the whole thing. - It could not be true. I went upstairs and manicured my nails, which - usually comforts me, and put my hair up like Leila's. - </p> - <p> - But nothing could calm me. I had made my own fate, and must lie in it. And - just then Hannah slipped in with a box in her hands and her eyes - frightened. - </p> - <p> - "Oh, Miss Barbara!" she said. "If your mother sees this!" - </p> - <p> - I dropped my manicure scissors, I was so alarmed. But I opened the box, - and clutched the envelope inside. It said "from H——." Then - Carter was right. There was an H after all! - </p> - <p> - Hannah was rolling her hands in her apron and her eyes were popping out of - her head. - </p> - <p> - "I just happened to see the boy at the door," she said, with her silly - teeth chattering. "Oh, Miss Barbara, if Patrick had answered the bell! - What shall we do with them?" - </p> - <p> - "You take them right down the back stairs," I said. "As if it was an empty - box. And put it outside with the waist papers. Quick." - </p> - <p> - She gathered the thing up, but of course mother had to come in just then - and they met in the doorway. She saw it all in one glance, and she - snatched the card out of my hand. - </p> - <p> - "From H——!" she read. "Take them out, Hannah, and throw them - away. No, don't do that. Put them on the Servant's table." Then, when the - door had closed, she turned to me. "Just one more ridiculous episode of - this kind, Barbara," she said, "and you go back to school—Christmas - or no Christmas." - </p> - <p> - I will say this. If she had shown the faintest softness, I'd have told her - the whole thing. But she did not. She looked exactly as gentle as a - macadam pavement. I am one who has to be handled with gentleness. A kind - word will do anything with me, but harsh treatment only makes me - determined. I then become inflexible as iron. - </p> - <p> - That is what happened then. Mother took the wrong course and threatened, - which as I have stated is fatal, as far as I am concerned. I refused to - yield an inch, and it ended in my having my dinner in my room, and mother - threatening to keep me home from the party the next night. It was not a - threat, if she had only known it. - </p> - <p> - But when the next day went by, with no more flowers, and nothing - apparently wrong except that mother was very dignified with me, I began to - feel better. Sis was out all day, and in the afternoon Jane called me up. - </p> - <p> - "How are you?" she said. - </p> - <p> - "Oh, I'm all right." - </p> - <p> - "Everything smooth?" - </p> - <p> - "Well, smooth enough." - </p> - <p> - "Oh, Bab," she said. "I'm just crazy about it. All the girls are." - </p> - <p> - "I knew they were crazy about something." - </p> - <p> - "You poor thing, no wonder you are bitter," she said. "Somebody's coming. - I'll have to ring off. But don't you give in, Bab. Not an inch. Marry your - heart's desire, no matter who butts in." - </p> - <p> - Well, you can see how it was. Even then I could have told father and - mother, and got out of it somehow. But all the girls knew about it, and - there was nothing to do but go on. - </p> - <p> - All that day every time I thought of the Party my heart missed a beat. But - as I would not lie and say that I was ill—I am naturally truthful, - as far as possible—I was compelled to go, although my heart was - breaking. - </p> - <p> - I am not going to write much about the party, except a slight description, - which properly belongs in every theme. - </p> - <p> - All Parties for the school set are alike. The boys range from - knickerbockers to college men in their freshmen year, and one is likely to - dance half the evening with youngsters that one saw last in their - perambulators. It is rather startling to have about six feet of black - trouser legs and white shirt front come and ask one to dance and then to - get one's eyes raised as far as the top of what looks like a particularly - thin pair of tree trunks and see a little boy's face. - </p> - <p> - As this theme is to contain description I shall describe the ball room of - the club where the eventful party occurred. - </p> - <p> - The ball room is white, with red hangings, and looks like a Charlotte - Russe with maraschino cherries. Over the fireplace they had put "Merry - Christmas," in electric lights, and the chandeliers were made into - Christmas trees and hung with colored balls. One of the balls fell off - during the cotillion, and went down the back of one of the girl's dresses, - and they were compelled to up-end her and shake her out in the dressing - room. - </p> - <p> - The favors were insignificant, as usual. It is not considered good taste - to have elaborate things for the school crowd. But when I think of the - silver things Sis always brought home, and remember that I took away about - six Christmas stockings, a toy balloon, four whistles, a wooden canary in - a cage and a box of talcum powder, I feel that things are not fair in this - World. - </p> - <p> - Hannah went with me, and in the motor she said: - </p> - <p> - "Oh, Miss Barbara, do be careful. The family is that upset." - </p> - <p> - "Don't be a silly," I said. "And if the family is half as upset as I am, - it is throwing a fit at this minute." - </p> - <p> - We were early, of course. My mother believes in being on time, and - besides, she and Sis wanted the motor later. And while Hannah was on her - knees taking off my carriage boots, I suddenly decided that I could not go - down. Hannah turned quite pale when I told her. - </p> - <p> - "What will your mother say?" she said. "And you with your new dress and - all! It's as much as my life is worth to take you back home now, Miss - Barbara." - </p> - <p> - Well, that was true enough. There would be a riot if I went home, and I - knew it. - </p> - <p> - "I'll see the steward and get you a cup of tea," Hannah said. "Tea sets me - up like anything when I'm nervous. Now please be a good girl, Miss - Barbara, and don't run off, or do anything foolish." - </p> - <p> - She wanted me to promise, but I would not, although I could not have run - anywhere. My legs were entirely numb. - </p> - <p> - In a half hour at the utmost I knew all would be known, and very likely I - would be a homeless wanderer on the earth. For I felt that never, never - could I return to my dear ones, when my terrible actions became known. - </p> - <p> - Jane came in while I was sipping the tea and she stood off and eyed me - with sympathy. - </p> - <p> - "I don't wonder, Bab!" she said. "The idea of your family acting so - outrageously! And look here" She bent over me and whispered it. "Don't - trust Carter too much. He is perfectly infatuated with Leila, and he will - play into the hands of the enemy. BE CAREFUL." - </p> - <p> - "Loathsome creature!" was my response. "As for trusting him, I trust no - one, these days." - </p> - <p> - "I don't wonder your faith is gone," she observed. But she was talking - with one eye on a mirror. - </p> - <p> - "Pink makes me pale," she said. "I'll bet the maid has a drawer full of - rouge. I'm going to see. How about a touch for you? You look ghastly." - </p> - <p> - "I don't care how I look," I said, recklessly. "I think I'll sprain my - ankle and go home. Anyhow I am not allowed to use rouge." - </p> - <p> - "Not allowed!" she observed. "What has that got to do with it? I don't - understand you, Bab; you are totally changed." - </p> - <p> - "I am suffering," I said. I was to. - </p> - <p> - Just then the maid brought me a folded note. Hannah was hanging up my - wraps, and did not see it. Jane's eyes fairly bulged. - </p> - <p> - "I hope you have saved the cotillion for me," it said. And it was signed. - H——! - </p> - <p> - "Good gracious," Jane said breathlessly. "Don't tell me he is here, and - that that's from him!" - </p> - <p> - I had to swallow twice before I could speak. Then I said, solemnly: - </p> - <p> - "He is here, Jane. He has followed me. I am going to dance the cotillion - with him although I shall probably be disinherited and thrown out into the - world, as a result." - </p> - <p> - I have no recollection whatever of going down the staircase and into the - ballroom. Although I am considered rather brave, and once saved one of the - smaller girls from drowning, as I need not remind the school, when she was - skating on thin ice, I was frightened. I remember that, inside the door, - Jane said "Courage!" in a low tense voice, and that I stepped on - somebody's foot and said "Certainly" instead of apologizing. The shock of - that brought me around somewhat, and I managed to find Mrs. Adams and - Elaine, and not disgrace myself. Then somebody at my elbow said: - </p> - <p> - "All right, Barbara. Everything's fixed." - </p> - <p> - It was Carter. - </p> - <p> - "He's waiting in the corner over there," he said. "We'd better go through - the formality of an introduction. He's positively twittering with - excitement." - </p> - <p> - "Carter" I said desperately. "I want to tell you something first. I've got - myself in an awful mess. I——" - </p> - <p> - "Sure you have," he said. "That's why I'm here, to help you out. Now you - be calm, and there's no reason why you two can't have the evening of your - young lives. I wish I could fall in love. It must be bully." - </p> - <p> - "Carter——!" - </p> - <p> - "Got his note, didn't you?" - </p> - <p> - "Yes, I——" - </p> - <p> - "Here we are," said Carter. "Miss Archibald, I would like to present Mr. - Grosvenor." - </p> - <p> - Somebody bowed in front of me, and then straightened up and looked down at - me. IT WAS THE MAN OF THE PICTURE, LITTLE MUSTACHE AND ALL. My mouth went - perfectly dry. - </p> - <p> - It is all very well to talk about Romance and Love, and all that sort of - thing. But I have concluded that amorous experiences are not always - agreeable. And I have discovered something else. The moment anybody is - crazy about me I begin to hate him. It is curious, but I am like that. I - only care as long as they, or he, is far away. And the moment I touched - H's white kid glove, I knew I loathed him. - </p> - <p> - "Now go to it, you two," Carter said in cautious tone. "Don't be - conspicuous. That's all." - </p> - <p> - And he left us. - </p> - <p> - "Suppose we dance this. Shall we?" said H. And the next moment we were - gliding off. He danced very well. I will say that. But at the time I was - too much occupied with hating him to care about dancing, or anything. But - I was compelled by my pride to see things through. We are a very proud - family and never show our troubles, though our hearts be torn with - anguish. - </p> - <p> - "Think," he said, when we had got away from the band, "think of our being - together like this!" - </p> - <p> - "It's not so surprising, is it? We've got to be together if we are - dancing." - </p> - <p> - "Not that. Do you know, I never knew so long a day as this has been. The - thought of meeting you—er—again, and all that." - </p> - <p> - "You needn't rave for my benefit," I said freezingly. "You know perfectly - well that you never saw me before." - </p> - <p> - "Barbara! With your dear little letter in my breast pocket at this - moment!" - </p> - <p> - "I didn't know men had breast pockets in their evening clothes." - </p> - <p> - "Oh well, have it your own way. I'm too happy to quarrel," he said. "How - well you dance—only, let me lead, won't you? How strange it is to - think that we have never danced together before!" - </p> - <p> - "We must have a talk," I said desperately. "Can't we go somewhere, away - from the noise?" - </p> - <p> - "That would be conspicuous, wouldn't it, under the circumstances? If we - are to overcome the family objection to me, we'll have to be cautious, - Barbara." - </p> - <p> - "Don't call me Barbara," I snapped. "I know perfectly well what you think - of me, and I——" - </p> - <p> - "I think you are wonderful," he said. "Words fail me when I try to tell - you what I am thinking. You've saved the cotillion for me, haven't you? If - not, I'm going to claim it anyhow. IT IS MY RIGHT." - </p> - <p> - He said it in the most determined manner, as if everything was settled. I - felt like a rat in a trap, and Carter, watching from a corner, looked - exactly like a cat. If he had taken his hand in its white glove and washed - his face with it, I would hardly have been surprised. - </p> - <p> - The music stopped, and somebody claimed me for the next. Jane came up, - too, and clutched my arm. - </p> - <p> - "You lucky thing!" she said. "He's perfectly handsome. And oh, Bab, he's - wild about you. I can see it in his eyes." - </p> - <p> - "Don't pinch, Jane," I said coldly. "And don't rave. He's an idiot." - </p> - <p> - She looked at me with her mouth open. - </p> - <p> - "Well, if you don't want him, pass him on to me," she said, and walked - away. - </p> - <p> - It was too silly, after everything that had happened, to dance the next - dance with Willie Graham, who is still in knickerbockers, and a full head - shorter than I am. But that's the way with a Party for the school crowd, - as I've said before. They ask all ages, from perambulators up, and of - course the little boys all want to dance with the older girls. It is - deadly stupid. - </p> - <p> - But H seemed to be having a good time. He danced a lot with Jane, who is a - wretched dancer, with no sense of time whatever. Jane is not pretty, but - she has nice eyes, and I am not afraid, second cousin once removed or no - second cousin once removed, to say she used them. - </p> - <p> - Altogether, it was a terrible evening. I danced three dances out of four - with knickerbockers, and one with old Mr. Adams, who is fat and rotates - his partner at the corners by swinging her on his waistcoat. Carter did - not dance at all, and every time I tried to speak to him he was taking a - crowd of the little girls to the fruit-punch bowl. - </p> - <p> - I determined to have things out with H during the cotillion, and tell him - that I would never marry him, that I would die first. But I was favored a - great deal, and when we did have a chance the music was making such a - noise that I would have had to shout. Our chairs were next to the band. - </p> - <p> - But at last we had a minute, and I went out to the verandah, which was - closed in with awnings. He had to follow, of course, and I turned and - faced him. - </p> - <p> - "Now" I said, "this has got to stop." - </p> - <p> - "I don't understand you, Bab." - </p> - <p> - "You do, perfectly well," I stormed. "I can't stand it. I am going crazy." - </p> - <p> - "Oh," he said slowly. "I see. I've been dancing too much with the little - girl with the eyes! Honestly, Bab, I was only doing it to disarm - suspicion. MY EVERY THOUGHT IS OF YOU." - </p> - <p> - "I mean," I said, as firmly as I could, "that this whole thing has got to - stop. I can't stand it." - </p> - <p> - "Am I to understand," he said solemnly, "that you intend to end - everything?" - </p> - <p> - I felt perfectly wild and helpless. - </p> - <p> - "After that Letter!" he went on. "After that sweet Letter! You said, you - know, that you were mad to see me, and that—it is almost too sacred - to repeat, even to YOU—that you would always love me. After that - Confession I refuse to agree that all is over. It can NEVER be over." - </p> - <p> - "I daresay I am losing my mind," I said. "It all sounds perfectly natural. - But it doesn't mean anything. There CAN'T be any Harold Valentine; because - I made him up. But there is, so there must be. And I am going crazy." - </p> - <p> - "Look here," he stormed, suddenly quite raving, and throwing out his right - hand. It would have been terribly dramatic, only he had a glass of punch - in it. "I am not going to be played with. And you are not going to jilt me - without a reason. Do you mean to deny everything? Are you going to say, - for instance, that I never sent you any violets? Or gave you my - Photograph, with an—er—touching inscription on it?" Then, - appealingly, "You can't mean to deny that Photograph, Bab!" - </p> - <p> - And then that lanky wretch of an Eddie Perkins brought me a toy balloon, - and I had to dance, with my heart crushed. - </p> - <p> - Nevertheless, I ate a fair supper. I felt that I needed Strength. It was - quite a grown-up supper, with bullion and creamed chicken and baked ham - and sandwiches, among other things. But of course they had to show it was - a 'kid' party, after all. For instead of coffee we had milk. - </p> - <p> - Milk! When I was going through a tragedy. For if it is not a tragedy to be - engaged to a man one never saw before, what is it? - </p> - <p> - All through the refreshments I could feel that his eyes were on me. And I - hated him. It was all well enough for Jane to say he was handsome. She - wasn't going to have to marry him. I detest dimples in chins. I always - have. And anybody could see that it was his first mustache, and soft, and - that he took it round like a mother pushing a new baby in a perambulator. - It was sickening. - </p> - <p> - I left just after supper. He did not see me when I went upstairs, but he - had missed me, for when Hannah and I came down, he was at the door, - waiting. Hannah was loaded down with silly favors, and lagged behind, - which gave him a chance to speak to me. I eyed him coldly and tried to - pass him, but I had no chance. - </p> - <p> - "I'll see you tomorrow, DEAREST," he whispered. - </p> - <p> - "Not if I can help it," I said, looking straight ahead. Hannah had dropped - a stocking—not her own. One of the Christmas favors—and was - fumbling about for it. - </p> - <p> - "You are tired and unnerved to-night, Bab. When I have seen your father - tomorrow, and talked to him——" - </p> - <p> - "Don't you dare to see my father." - </p> - <p> - "——and when he has agreed to what I propose," he went on, - without paying any attention to what I had said, "you will be calmer. We - can plan things." - </p> - <p> - Hannah came puffing up then, and he helped us into the motor. He was very - careful to see that we were covered with the robes, and he tucked Hannah's - feet in. She was awfully flattered. Old Fool! And she babbled about him - until I wanted to slap her. - </p> - <p> - "He's a nice young man. Miss Bab," she said. "That is, if he's the One. - And he has nice manners. So considerate. Many a party I've taken your - sister to, and never before——" - </p> - <p> - "I wish you'd shut up, Hannah," I said. "He's a pig, and I hate him." - </p> - <p> - She sulked after that, and helped me out of my things at home without a - word. When I was in bed, however, and she was hanging up my clothes, she - said: - </p> - <p> - "I don't know what's got into you, Miss Barbara. You are that cross that - there's no living with you." - </p> - <p> - "Oh, go away," I said. - </p> - <p> - "And what's more," she added, "I don't know but what your mother ought to - know about these goings on. You're only a little girl, with all your high - and mightiness, and there's going to be no scandal in this family if I can - help it." - </p> - <p> - I put the bedclothes over my head, and she went out. - </p> - <p> - But of course I could not sleep. Sis was not home yet, or mother, and I - went into Sis's room and got a novel from her table. It was the story of a - woman who had married a man in a hurry, and without really loving him, and - when she had been married a year, and hated the very way her husband drank - his coffee and cut the ends off his cigars, she found some one she really - loved with her whole heart. And it was too late. But she wrote him one - letter, the other man, you know, and it caused a lot of trouble. So she - said—I remember the very words— - </p> - <p> - "Half the troubles in the world are caused by letters. Emotions are - changeable things"—this was after she had found that she really - loved her husband after all, but he had had to shoot himself before she - found it out, although not fatally—"but the written word does not - change. It remains always, embodying a dead truth and giving it apparent - life. No woman should ever put her thoughts on paper." - </p> - <p> - She got the letter back, but she had to steal it. And it turned out that - the other man had really only wanted her money all the time. - </p> - <p> - That story was a real illumination to me. I shall have a great deal of - money when I am of age, from my grandmother. I saw it all. It was a trap - sure enough. And if I was to get out I would have to have the letter. - </p> - <h3> - IT WAS THE LETTER THAT PUT ME IN HIS POWER. - </h3> - <p> - The next day was Christmas. I got a lot of things, including the necklace, - and a mending basket from Sis, with the hope that it would make me tidy, - and father had bought me a set of silver fox, which mother did not approve - of, it being too expensive for a young girl to wear, according to her. I - must say that for an hour or two I was happy enough. - </p> - <p> - But the afternoon was terrible. We keep open house on Xmas afternoon, and - father makes a champagne punch, and somebody pours tea, although nobody - drinks it, and there are little cakes from the club, and the house is - decorated with poinsettias. - </p> - <p> - At eleven o'clock the mail came in, and mother sorted it over, while - father took a gold piece out to the post-man. - </p> - <p> - There were about a million cards, and mother glanced at the addresses and - passed them round. But suddenly she frowned. There was a small parcel, - addressed to me. - </p> - <p> - "This looks like a gift, Barbara," she said. And proceeded to open it. - </p> - <p> - My heart skipped two beats, and then hammered. Mother's mouth was set as - she tore off the paper and opened the box. There was a card, which she - glanced at, and underneath, was a book of poems. - </p> - <p> - "Love Lyrics," said mother, in a terrible voice. "To Barbara, from H——" - </p> - <p> - "Mother——" I began, in an earnest tone. - </p> - <p> - "A child of mine receiving such a book from a man!" she went on. "Barbara, - I am speechless." - </p> - <p> - But she was not speechless. If she was speechless for the next half hour, - I would hate to hear her really converse. And all that I could do was to - bear it. For I had made a Frankenstein—see the book read last term - by the Literary Society—not out of grave-yard fragments, but from - malted milk tablets, so to speak, and now it was pursuing me to an early - grave. For I felt that I simply could not continue to live. - </p> - <p> - "Now—where does he live?" - </p> - <p> - "I—don't know, mother." - </p> - <p> - "You sent him a letter." - </p> - <p> - "I don't know where he lives, anyhow." - </p> - <p> - "Leila," mother said, "will you ask Hannah to bring my smelling salts?" - </p> - <p> - "Aren't you going to give me the book?" I asked. "It—it sounds - interesting." - </p> - <p> - "You are shameless," mother said, and threw the thing into the fire. A - good many of my things seemed to be going into the fire at that time. I - cannot help wondering what they would have done if it had all happened in - the summer, and no fires burning. They would have felt quite helpless, I - imagine. - </p> - <p> - Father came back just then, but he did not see the book, which was then - blazing with a very hot red flame. I expected mother to tell him, and I - daresay I should not have been surprised to see my furs follow the book. I - had got into the way of expecting to see things burning that do not belong - in a fireplace. But mother did not tell him. - </p> - <p> - I have thought over this a great deal, and I believe that now I - understand. Mother was unjustly putting the blame for everything on this - School, and mother had chosen the School. My father had not been much - impressed by the catalog. "Too much dancing room and not enough tennis - courts," he had said. This, of course, is my father's opinion. Not mine. - </p> - <p> - The real reason, then, for mother's silence was that she disliked - confessing that she made a mistake in her choice of a School. - </p> - <p> - I ate very little luncheon and my only comfort was my seed pearls. I was - wearing them, for fear the door-bell would ring, and a letter or flowers - would arrive from H. In that case I felt quite sure that someone, in a - frenzy, would burn the pearls also. - </p> - <p> - The afternoon was terrible. It rained solid sheets, and Patrick, the - butler, gave notice three hours after he had received his Christmas - presents, on account of not being let off for early mass. - </p> - <p> - But my father's punch is famous, and people came, and stood around and - buzzed, and told me I had grown and was almost a young lady. And Tommy - Gray got out of his cradle and came to call on me, and coughed all the - time, with a whoop. He developed the whooping cough later. He had on his - first long trousers, and a pair of lavender socks and a tie to match. He - said they were not exactly the same shade, but he did not think it would - be noticed. Hateful child! - </p> - <p> - At half past five, when the place was jammed, I happened to look up. - Carter Brooks was in the hall, and behind him was H. He had seen me before - I saw him, and he had a sort of sickly grin, meant to denote joy. I was - talking to our bishop at the time, and he was asking me what sort of - services we had in the school chapel. - </p> - <p> - I meant to say "non-sectarian," but in my surprise and horror I regret to - say that I said, "vegetarian." Carter Brooks came over to me like a cat to - a saucer of milk, and pulled me off into a corner. - </p> - <p> - "It's all right," he said. "I phoned mama, and she said to bring him. He's - known as Grosvenor here, of course. They'll never suspect a thing. Now, do - I get a small 'thank you'?" - </p> - <p> - "I won't see him." - </p> - <p> - "Now look here, Bab," he protested, "you two have got to make this thing - up You are a pair of idiots, quarreling over nothing. Poor old Hal is all - broken up. He's sensitive. You've got to remember how sensitive he is." - </p> - <p> - "Go, away" I cried, in broken tones. "Go away, and take him with you." - </p> - <p> - "Not until he had spoken to your Father," he observed, setting his jaw. - "He's here for that, and you know it. You can't play fast and loose with a - man, you know." - </p> - <p> - "Don't you dare to let him speak to father!" - </p> - <p> - He shrugged his shoulders. - </p> - <p> - "That's between you two, of course," he said. "It's not up to me. Tell him - yourself, if you've changed your mind. I don't intend," he went on, - impressively, "to have any share in ruining his life." - </p> - <p> - "Oh piffle," I said. I am aware that this is slang, and does not belong in - a theme. But I was driven to saying it. - </p> - <p> - I got through the crowd by using my elbows. I am afraid I gave the bishop - quite a prod, and I caught Mr. Andrews on his rotating waistcoat. But I - was desperate. - </p> - <p> - Alas, I was too late. - </p> - <p> - The caterer's man, who had taken Patrick's place in a hurry, was at the - punch bowl, and father was gone. I was just in time to see him take H. - into his library and close the door. - </p> - <p> - Here words fail me. I knew perfectly well that beyond that door H, whom I - had invented and who therefore simply did not exist, was asking for my - hand. I made up my mind at once to run away and go on the stage, and I had - even got part way up the stairs, when I remembered that, with a dollar for - the picture and five dollars for the violets and three dollars for the hat - pin I had given Sis, and two dollars and a quarter for mother's - handkerchief case, I had exactly a dollar and seventy-five cents in the - world. - </p> - <h3> - I WAS TRAPPED. - </h3> - <p> - I went up to my room, and sat and waited. Would father be violent, and - throw H. out and then come upstairs, pale with fury and disinherit me? Or - would the whole family conspire together, when the people had gone, and - send me to a convent? I made up my mind, if it was the convent, to take - the veil and be a nun. I would go to nurse lepers, or something, and then, - when it was too late, they would be sorry. - </p> - <p> - The stage or the convent, nun or actress? Which? - </p> - <p> - I left the door open, but there was only the sound of revelry below. I - felt then that it was to be the convent. I pinned a towel around my face, - the way the nuns wear whatever they call them, and from the side it was - very becoming. I really did look like Julia Marlowe, especially as my face - was very sad and tragic. - </p> - <p> - At something before seven every one had gone, and I heard Sis and mother - come upstairs to dress for dinner. I sat and waited, and when I heard - father I got cold all over. But he went on by, and I heard him go into - mother's room and close the door. Well, I knew I had to go through with - it, although my life was blasted. So I dressed and went downstairs. - </p> - <p> - Father was the first down. HE CAME DOWN WHISTLING. - </p> - <p> - It is perfectly true. I could not believe my ears. - </p> - <p> - He approached me with a smiling face. - </p> - <p> - "Well, Bab," he said, exactly as if nothing had happened, "have you had a - nice day?" - </p> - <p> - He had the eyes of a basilisk, that creature of fable. - </p> - <p> - "I've had a lovely day, Father," I replied. I could be basilisk-ish also. - </p> - <p> - There is a mirror over the drawing room mantle, and he turned me around - until we both faced it. - </p> - <p> - "Up to my ears," he said, referring to my height. "And lovers already! - Well, I daresay we must make up our minds to lose you." - </p> - <p> - "I won't be lost," I declared, almost violently. "Of course, if you intend - to shove me off your hands, to the first idiot who comes along and - pretends a lot of stuff, I——" - </p> - <p> - "My dear child!" said father, looking surprised. "Such an outburst! All I - was trying to say, before your mother comes down, is that I—well, - that I understand and that I shall not make my little girl unhappy by—er—by - breaking her heart." - </p> - <p> - "Just what do you mean by that, father?" - </p> - <p> - He looked rather uncomfortable, being one who hates to talk sentiment. - </p> - <p> - "It's like this, Barbara," he said. "If you want to marry this young man—and - you have made it very clear that you do—I am going to see that you - do it. You are young, of course, but after all your dear mother was not - much older than you are when I married her." - </p> - <p> - "Father!" I cried, from an over-flowing heart. - </p> - <p> - "I have noticed that you are not happy, Barbara," he said. "And I shall - not thwart you, or allow you to be thwarted. In affairs of the heart, you - are to have your own way." - </p> - <p> - "I want to tell you something!" I cried. "I will NOT be cast off! I——" - </p> - <p> - "Tut, tut," said Father. "Who is casting you off? I tell you that I like - the young man, and give you my blessing, or what is the present-day - equivalent for it, and you look like a figure of tragedy!" - </p> - <p> - But I could endure no more. My own father had turned on me and was rending - me, so to speak. With a breaking heart and streaming eyes I flew to my - chamber. - </p> - <p> - There, for hours I paced the floor. - </p> - <p> - Never, I determined, would I marry H. Better death, by far. He was a - scheming fortune-hunter, but to tell the family that was to confess all. - And I would never confess. I would run away before I gave Sis such a - chance at me. I would run away, but first I would kill Carter Brooks. - </p> - <p> - Yes, I was driven to thoughts of murder. It shows how the first false step - leads down and down, to crime and even to death. Oh never, never, gentle - reader, take that first false step. Who knows to what it may lead! - </p> - <p> - "One false Step is never retrieved." Gray—On a Favorite Cat. - </p> - <p> - I reflected also on how the woman in the book had ruined her life with a - letter. "The written word does not change," she had said. "It remains - always, embodying a dead truth and giving it apparent life." - </p> - <p> - "Apparent life" was exactly what my letter had given to H. Frankenstein. - That was what I called him, in my agony. I felt that if only I had never - written the Letter there would have been no trouble. And another awful - thought came to me: Was there an H after all? Could there be an H? - </p> - <p> - Once the French teacher had taken us to the theater in New York, and a - woman sitting on a chair and covered with a sheet, had brought a man out - of a perfectly empty cabinet, by simply willing to do it. The cabinet was - empty, for four respectable looking men went up and examined it, and one - even measured it with a Tape-measure. - </p> - <p> - She had materialized him, out of nothing. - </p> - <p> - And while I had had no cabinet, there are many things in this world "that - we do not dream of in our philosophy." Was H. a real person, or a creature - of my disordered brain? In plain and simple language, COULD THERE BE SUCH - A PERSON? - </p> - <p> - I feared not. - </p> - <p> - And if there was no H, really, and I married him, where would I be? - </p> - <p> - There was a ball at the Club that night, and the family all went. No one - came to say good-night to me, and by half past ten I was alone with my - misery. I knew Carter Brooks would be at the ball, and H also, very - likely, dancing around as agreeably as if he really existed, and I had not - made him up. - </p> - <p> - I got the book from Sis's room again, and re-read it. The woman in it had - been in great trouble, too, with her husband cleaning his revolver and - making his will. And at last she had gone to the apartments of the man who - had her letters, in a taxicab covered with a heavy veil, and had got them - back. He had shot himself when she returned—the husband—but - she burned the letters and then called a doctor, and he was saved. Not the - doctor, of course. The husband. - </p> - <p> - The villain's only hold on her had been the letters, so he went to South - Africa and was gored by an elephant, thus passing out of her life. - </p> - <p> - Then and there I knew that I would have to get my letter back from H. - Without it he was powerless. The trouble was that I did not know where he - was staying. Even if he came out of a cabinet, the cabinet would have to - be somewhere, would it not? - </p> - <p> - I felt that I would have to meet guile with guile. And to steal one's own - letter is not really stealing. Of course if he was visiting any one and - pretending to be a real person, I had no chance in the world. But if he - was stopping at a hotel I thought I could manage. The man in the book had - had an apartment, with a Japanese servant, who went away and drew plans of - American forts in the kitchen and left the woman alone with the desk - containing the letter. But I daresay that was unusually lucky and not the - sort of thing to look forward to. - </p> - <p> - With me, to think is to act. Hannah was out, it being Christmas and her - brother-in-law having a wake, being dead, so I was free to do anything I - wanted to. - </p> - <p> - First I called the club and got Carter Brooks on the telephone. - </p> - <p> - "Carter," I said, "I—I am writing a letter. Where is—where - does H. stay?" - </p> - <p> - "Who?" - </p> - <p> - "H.—Mr. Grosvenor." - </p> - <p> - "Why, bless your ardent little heart! Writing, are you? It's sublime, - Bab!" - </p> - <p> - "Where does he live?" - </p> - <p> - "And is it all alone you are, on Christmas Night!" he burbled. (This is a - word from Alice in Wonder Land, and although not in the dictionary, is - quite expressive.) - </p> - <p> - "Yes," I replied, bitterly. "I am old enough to be married off without my - consent, but I am not old enough for a real Ball. It makes me sick." - </p> - <p> - "I can smuggle him here, if you want to talk to him." - </p> - <p> - "Smuggle!" I said, with scorn. "There is no need to smuggle him. The - family is crazy about him. They are flinging me at him." - </p> - <p> - "Well, that's nice," he said. "Who'd have thought it! Shall I bring him to - the 'phone?" - </p> - <p> - "I don't want to talk to him. I hate him." - </p> - <p> - "Look here," he observed, "if you keep that up, he'll begin to believe - you. Don't take these little quarrels too hard, Barbara. He's so happy - to-night in the thought that you——" - </p> - <p> - "Does he live in a cabinet, or where?" - </p> - <p> - "In a what? I don't get that word." - </p> - <p> - "Don't bother. Where shall I send his letter?" - </p> - <p> - Well, it seemed he had an apartment at the arcade, and I rang off. It was - after eleven by that time, and by the time I had got into my school - mackintosh and found a heavy veil of mother's and put it on, it was almost - half past. - </p> - <p> - The house was quiet, and as Patrick had gone, there was no one around in - the lower hall. I slipped out and closed the door behind me, and looked - for a taxicab, but the veil was so heavy that I hailed our own limousine, - and Smith had drawn up at the curb before I knew him. - </p> - <p> - "Where to, lady?" he said. "This is a private car, but I'll take you - anywhere in the city for a dollar." - </p> - <p> - A flush of just indignation rose to my cheek, at the knowledge that Smith - was using our car for a taxicab! And just as I was about to speak to him - severely, and threaten to tell father, I remembered, and walked away. - </p> - <p> - "Make it seventy-five cents," he called after me. But I went on. It was - terrible to think that Smith could go on renting our car to all sorts of - people, covered with germs and everything, and that I could never report - it to the family. - </p> - <p> - I got a real taxi at last, and got out at the arcade, giving the man a - quarter, although ten cents would have been plenty as a tip. - </p> - <p> - I looked at him, and I felt that he could be trusted. - </p> - <p> - "This," I said, holding up the money, "is the price of silence." - </p> - <p> - But if he was trustworthy he was not subtle, and he said: - </p> - <p> - "The what, miss?" - </p> - <p> - "If any one asks if you have driven me here, YOU HAVE NOT" I explained, in - an impressive manner. - </p> - <p> - He examined the quarter, even striking a match to look at it. Then he - replied: "I have not!" and drove away. - </p> - <p> - Concealing my nervousness as best I could, I entered the doomed building. - There was only a hall boy there, asleep in the elevator, and I looked at - the thing with the names on it. "Mr. Grosvenor" was on the fourth floor. - </p> - <p> - I wakened the boy, and he yawned and took me to the fourth floor. My hands - were stiff with nervousness by that time, but the boy was half asleep, and - evidently he took me for some one who belonged there, for he said - "Goodnight" to me, and went on down. There was a square landing with two - doors, and "Grosvenor" was on one. I tried it gently. It was unlocked. - </p> - <h3> - "FACILUS DESCENSUS IN AVERNU." - </h3> - <p> - I am not defending myself. What I did was the result of desperation. But I - cannot even write of my sensations as I stepped through that fatal portal, - without a sinking of the heart. I had, however, had sufficient foresight - to prepare an alibi. In case there was someone present in the apartment I - intended to tell a falsehood, I regret to confess, and to say that I had - got off at the wrong floor. - </p> - <p> - There was a sort of hall, with a clock and a table, and a shaded electric - lamp, and beyond that the door was open into a sitting room. - </p> - <p> - There was a small light burning there, and the remains of a wood fire in - the fireplace. There was no cabinet however. - </p> - <p> - Everything was perfectly quiet, and I went over to the fire and warmed my - hands. My nails were quite blue, but I was strangely calm. I took off - mother's veil, and my mackintosh, so I would be free to work, and I then - looked around the room. There were a number of photographs of rather smart - looking girls, and I curled my lip scornfully. He might have fooled them - but he could not deceive me. And it added to my bitterness to think that - at that moment the villain was dancing—and flirting probably—while - I was driven to actual theft to secure the letter that placed me in his - power. - </p> - <p> - When I had stopped shivering I went to his desk. There were a lot of - letters on the top, all addressed to him as Grosvenor. It struck me - suddenly as strange that if he was only visiting, under an assumed name, - in order to see me, that so many people should be writing to him as Mr. - Grosvenor. And it did not look like the room of a man who was visiting, - unless he took a freight car with him on his travels. - </p> - <p> - THERE WAS A MYSTERY. All at once I knew it. - </p> - <p> - My letter was not on the desk, so I opened the top drawer. It seemed to be - full of bills, and so was the one below it. I had just started on the - third drawer, when a terrible thing happened. - </p> - <p> - "Hello!" said some one behind me. - </p> - <p> - I turned my head slowly, and my heart stopped. - </p> - <p> - THE PORTERES INTO THE PASSAGE HAD OPENED, AND A GENTLEMAN IN HIS EVENING - CLOTHES WAS STANDING THERE. - </p> - <p> - "Just sit still, please," he said, in a perfectly cold voice. And he - turned and locked the door into the hall. I was absolutely unable to - speak. I tried once, but my tongue hit the roof of my mouth like the - clapper of a bell. - </p> - <p> - "Now," he said, when he had turned around. "I wish you would tell me some - good reason why I should not hand you over to the police." - </p> - <p> - "Oh, please don't!" I said. - </p> - <p> - "That's eloquent. But not a reason. I'll sit down and give you a little - time. I take it, you did not expect to find me here." - </p> - <p> - "I'm in the wrong apartment. That's all," I said. "Maybe you'll think - that's an excuse and not a reason. I can't help it if you do." - </p> - <p> - "Well," he said, "that explains some things. It's pretty well known, I - fancy, that I have little worth stealing, except my good name." - </p> - <p> - "I was not stealing," I replied in a sulky manner. - </p> - <p> - "I beg your pardon," he said. "It IS an ugly word. We will strike it from - the record. Would you mind telling me whose apartment you intended to—er—investigate? - If this is the wrong one, you know." - </p> - <p> - "I was looking for a letter." - </p> - <p> - "Letters, letters!" he said. "When will you women learn not to write - letters. Although"—he looked at me closely—"you look rather - young for that sort of thing." He sighed. "It's born in you, I daresay," - he said. - </p> - <p> - Well, for all his patronizing ways, he was not very old himself. - </p> - <p> - "Of course," he said, "if you are telling the truth—and it sounds - fishy, I must say—it's hardly a police matter, is it? It's rather - one for diplomacy. But can you prove what you say?" - </p> - <p> - "My word should be sufficient," I replied stiffly. "How do I know that YOU - belong here?" - </p> - <p> - "Well, you don't, as a matter of fact. Suppose you take my word for that, - and I agree to believe what you say about the wrong apartment, Even then - it's rather unusual. I find a pale and determined looking young lady going - through my desk in a business-like manner. She says she has come for a - letter. Now the question is, is there a letter? If so, what letter?" - </p> - <p> - "It is a love letter," I said. - </p> - <p> - "Don't blush over such a confession," he said. "If it is true, be proud of - it. Love is a wonderful thing. Never be ashamed of being in love, my - child." - </p> - <p> - "I am not in love," I cried with bitter fury. - </p> - <p> - "Ah! Then it is not YOUR letter!" - </p> - <p> - "I wrote it." - </p> - <p> - "But to simulate a passion that does not exist—that is sacrilege. It - is——" - </p> - <p> - "Oh, stop talking," I cried, in a hunted tone. "I can't bear it. If you - are going to arrest me, get it over." - </p> - <p> - "I'd rather NOT arrest you, if we can find a way out. You look so young, - so new to crime! Even your excuse for being here is so naive, that I—won't - you tell me why you wrote a love letter, if you are not in love? And whom - you sent it to? That's important, you see, as it bears on the case. I - intend," he said, "to be judicial, unimpassioned, and quite fair." - </p> - <p> - "I wrote a love letter" I explained, feeling rather cheered, "but it was - not intended for any one, Do you see? It was just a love letter." - </p> - <p> - "Oh," he said. "Of course. It is often done. And after that?" - </p> - <p> - "Well, it had to go somewhere. At least I felt that way about it. So I - made up a name from some malted milk tablets——" - </p> - <p> - "Malted milk tablets!" he said, looking bewildered. - </p> - <p> - "Just as I was thinking up a name to send it to," I explained, "Hannah—that's - mother's maid, you know—brought in some hot milk and some malted - milk tablets, and I took the name from them." - </p> - <p> - "Look here," he said, "I'm unprejudiced and quite calm, but isn't the - 'mother's maid' rather piling it on?" - </p> - <p> - "Hannah is mother's maid, and she brought in the milk and the tablets, I - should think," I said, growing sarcastic, "that so far it is clear to the - dullest mind." - </p> - <p> - "Go on," he said, leaning back and closing his eyes. "You named the letter - for your mother's maid—I mean for the malted milk. Although you have - not yet stated the name you chose; I never heard of any one named Milk, - and as to the other, while I have known some rather thoroughly malted - people—however, let that go." - </p> - <p> - "Valentine's tablets," I said. "Of course, you understand," I said, - bending forward, "there was no such person. I made him up. The Harold was - made up too—Harold Valentine." - </p> - <p> - "I see. Not clearly, perhaps, but I have a gleam of intelligence." - </p> - <p> - "But, after all, there was such a person. That's clear, isn't it? And now - he considers that we are engaged, and—and he insists on marrying - me." - </p> - <p> - "That," he said, "is really easy to understand. I don't blame him at all. - He is clearly a person of discernment." - </p> - <p> - "Of course," I said bitterly, "you would be on HIS side. Every one is." - </p> - <p> - "But the point is this," he went on. "If you made him up out of the whole - cloth, as it were, and there was no such person, how can there be such a - person? I am merely asking to get it all clear in my head. It sounds so - reasonable when you say it, but there seems to be something left out." - </p> - <p> - "I don't know how he can be, but he is," I said, hopelessly. "And he is - exactly like his picture." - </p> - <p> - "Well, that's not unusual, you know." - </p> - <p> - "It is in this case. Because I bought the picture in a shop, and just - pretended it was him. (He?) And it WAS." - </p> - <p> - He got up and paced the floor. - </p> - <p> - "It's a very strange case," he said. "Do you mind if I light a cigarette? - It helps to clear my brain. What was the name you gave him?" - </p> - <p> - "Harold Valentine. But he is here under another name, because of my - family. They think I am a mere child, you see, and so of course he took a - NOM DE PLUME." - </p> - <p> - "A NOM DE PLUME? Oh I see! What is it?" - </p> - <p> - "Grosvenor," I said. "The same as yours." - </p> - <p> - "There's another Grosvenor in the building, That's where the trouble came - in, I suppose, Now let me get this straight. You wrote a letter, and - somehow or other he got it, and now you want it back. Stripped of the - things that baffle my intelligence, that's it, isn't it?" - </p> - <p> - I rose in excitement. - </p> - <p> - "Then, if he lives in the building, the letter is probably here. Why can't - you go and get it for me?" - </p> - <p> - "Very neat! And let you slip away while I am gone?" - </p> - <p> - I saw that he was still uncertain that I was telling him the truth. It was - maddening. And only the Letter itself could convince him. - </p> - <p> - "Oh, please try to get it," I cried, almost weeping. "You can lock me in - here, if you are afraid I will run away. And he is out. I know he is. He - is at the club ball." - </p> - <p> - "Naturally," he said "the fact that you are asking me to compound a - felony, commit larceny, and be an accessory after the fact does not - trouble you. As I told you before, all I have left is my good name, and - now——!" - </p> - <p> - "Please!" I said. - </p> - <p> - He stared down at me. - </p> - <p> - "Certainly," he said. "Asked in that tone, murder would be one of the - easiest things I do. But I shall lock you in." - </p> - <p> - "Very well," I said meekly. And after I had described it—the letter—to - him he went out. - </p> - <p> - I had won, but my triumph was but sackcloth and ashes in my mouth. I had - won, but at what a cost! Ah, how I wished that I might live again the past - few days! That I might never have started on my path of deception! Or - that, since my intentions at the start had been so innocent, I had taken - another photograph at the shop, which I had fancied considerably but had - heartlessly rejected because of no mustache. - </p> - <p> - He was gone for a long time, and I sat and palpitated. For what if H. had - returned early and found him and called in the police? - </p> - <p> - But the latter had not occurred, for at ten minutes after one he came - back, entering by the window from a fire-escape, and much streaked with - dirt. - </p> - <p> - "Narrow escape, dear child!" he observed, locking the window and drawing - the shade. "Just as I got it, your—er—gentleman friend - returned and fitted his key in the lock. I am not at all sure," he said, - wiping his hands with his handkerchief, "that he will not regard the open - window as a suspicious circumstance. He may be of a low turn of mind. - However, all's well that ends here in this room. Here it is." - </p> - <p> - I took it, and my heart gave a great leap of joy. I was saved. - </p> - <p> - "Now," he said, "we'll order a taxicab and get you home. And while it is - coming suppose you tell me the thing over again. It's not as clear to me - as it ought to be, even now." - </p> - <p> - So then I told him—about not being out yet, and Sis having flowers - sent her, and her room done over, and never getting to bed until dawn. And - that they treated me like a mere child, which was the reason for - everything, and about the poem, which he considered quite good. And then - about the letter. - </p> - <p> - "I get the whole thing a bit clearer now," he said. "Of course, it is - still cloudy in places. The making up somebody to write to is - understandable, under the circumstances. But it is odd to have had the - very person materialize, so to speak. It makes me wonder—well, how - about burning the letter, now we've got it? It would be better, I think. - The way things have been going with you, if we don't destroy it, it is - likely to walk off into somebody else's pocket and cause more trouble." - </p> - <p> - So we burned it, and then the telephone rang and said the taxi was there. - </p> - <p> - "I'll get my coat and be ready in a jiffy," he said, "and maybe we can - smuggle you into the house and no one the wiser. We'll try anyhow." - </p> - <p> - He went into the other room and I sat by the fire and thought. You - remember that when I was planning Harold Valentine, I had imagined him - with a small, dark mustache, and deep, passionate eyes? Well, this Mr. - Grosvenor had both, or rather, all three. And he had the loveliest smile, - with no dimple. He was, I felt, exactly the sort of man I could die for. - </p> - <p> - It was too tragic that, with all the world to choose from, I had not taken - him instead of H. - </p> - <p> - We walked downstairs, so as not to give the elevator boy a chance to talk, - he said. But he was asleep again, and we got to the street and to the - taxicab without being seen. - </p> - <p> - Oh, I was very cheerful. When I think of it—but I might have known, - all along. Nothing went right with me that week. - </p> - <p> - Just before we got to the house he said: - </p> - <p> - "Goodnight and goodbye, little Barbara. I'll never forget you and this - evening. And save me a dance at your coming-out party. I'll be there." - </p> - <p> - I held out my hand, and he took it and kissed it. It was all perfectly - thrilling. And then we drew up in front of the house and he helped me out, - and my entire family had just got out of the motor and was lined up on the - pavement staring at us! - </p> - <p> - "All right, are you?" he said, as coolly as if they had not been anywhere - in sight. "Well, good night and good luck!" And he got into the taxicab - and drove away, leaving me in the hands of the enemy. - </p> - <p> - The next morning I was sent back to school. They never gave me a chance to - explain, for mother went into hysterics, after accusing me of having men - dangling around waiting at every corner. They had to have a doctor, and - things were awful. - </p> - <p> - The only person who said anything was Sis. She came to my room that night - when I was in bed, and stood looking down at me. She was very angry, but - there was a sort of awe in her eyes. - </p> - <p> - "My hat's off to you, Barbara," she said. "Where in the world do you pick - them all up? Things must have changed at school since I was there." - </p> - <p> - "I'm sick to death of the other sex," I replied languidly. "It's no - punishment to send me away. I need a little piece and quiet." And I did. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_CONC" id="link2H_CONC"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CONCLUSION: - </h2> - <p> - All this holiday week, while the girls are away, I have been writing this - theme, for literature class. To-day is New Years and I am putting in the - finishing touches. I intend to have it typed in the village and to send a - copy to father, who I think will understand, and another copy, but with a - few lines cut, to Mr. Grosvenor. The nice one. There were some things he - did not quite understand, and this will explain. - </p> - <p> - I shall also send a copy to Carter Brooks, who came out handsomely with an - apology this morning in a letter and a ten pound box of candy. - </p> - <p> - His letter explains everything. H. is a real person and did not come out - of a cabinet. Carter recognized the photograph as being one of a Mr. - Grosvenor he went to college with, who had gone on the stage and was - playing in a stock company at home. Only they were not playing Christmas - week, as business, he says, is rotten then. When he saw me writing the - letter he felt that it was all a bluff, especially as he had seen me - sending myself the violets at the florists. - </p> - <p> - So he got Mr. Grosvenor, the blonde one, to pretend he was Harold - Valentine. Only things slipped up. I quote from Carter's letter: - </p> - <p> - "He's a bully chap, Bab, and he went into it for a lark, roses and poems - and all. But when he saw that you took it rather hard, he felt it wasn't - square. He went to your father to explain and apologized, but your father - seemed to think you needed a lesson. He's a pretty good sport, your - father. And he said to let it go on for a day or two. A little worry - wouldn't hurt you." - </p> - <p> - However, I do not call it being a good sport to see one's daughter - perfectly wretched and do nothing to help. And more than that, to - willfully permit one's child to suffer, and enjoy it. - </p> - <p> - But it was father, after all, who got the jolt, I think, when he saw me - get out of the taxicab. - </p> - <p> - Therefore I will not explain, for a time. A little worry will not hurt him - either. - </p> - <p> - I will not send him his copy for a week. - </p> - <p> - Perhaps, after all, I will give him something to worry about eventually. - For I have received a box of roses, with no card, but a pen and ink - drawing of a gentleman in evening clothes crawling onto a fire-escape - through an open window. He has dropped his heart, and it is two floors - below. - </p> - <p> - My narrative has now come to a conclusion, and I will close with a few - reflections drawn from my own sad and tragic Experience. I trust the girls - of this school will ponder and reflect. - </p> - <p> - Deception is a very sad thing. It starts very easy, and without warning, - and everything seems to be going all right, and no rocks ahead. When - suddenly the breakers loom up, and your frail vessel sinks, with you on - board, and maybe your dear ones, dragged down with you. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Oh, what a tangled Web we weave, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - When first we practice to deceive. - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Sir Walter Scott. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER II. THEME: THE CELEBRITY - </h2> - <p> - We have been requested to write, during this vacation, a true and - veracious account of a meeting with any celebrity we happened to meet - during the summer. If no celebrity, any interesting character would do, - excepting one's own family. - </p> - <p> - But as one's own family is neither celebrated nor interesting, there is no - temptation to write about it. - </p> - <p> - As I met Mr. Reginald Beecher this summer, I have chosen him as my - subject. - </p> - <p> - Brief history of the Subject: He was born in 1890 at Woodbury, N. J. - Attended public high schools, and in 1910 graduated from Princeton - University. - </p> - <p> - Following year produced first Play in New York, called Her Soul. Followed - this by the Soul Mate, and this by The Divorce. - </p> - <p> - Description of Subject. Mr. Beecher is tall and slender, and wears a very - small dark Mustache. Although but twenty-six years of age, his hair on - close inspection reveals here and there a silver thread. His teeth are - good, and his eyes amber, with small flecks of brown in them. He has been - vaccinated twice. - </p> - <p> - It has always been one of my chief ambitions to meet a celebrity. On one - or two occasions we have had them at school, but they never sit at the - Junior's table. Also, they are seldom connected with either the Drama or - The Movies (a slang term but apparently taking a place in our literature). - </p> - <p> - It was my intention, on being given this subject for my midsummer theme, - to seek out Mrs. Bainbridge, a lady author who has a cottage across the - bay from ours, and to ask the privilege of sitting at her feet for a few - hours, basking in the sunshine of her presence, and learning from her own - lips her favorite Flower, her favorite Poem and the favorite child of her - brain. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Of all those arts in which the wise excel, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well. - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Duke of Buckingham - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - I had meant to write my theme on her, but I learned in time that she was - forty years of age. Her work is therefore done. She has passed her active - years, and I consider that it is not the past of American Letters which is - at stake, but the future. Besides, I was more interested in the drama than - in literature. - </p> - <p> - Possibly it is owing to the fact that the girls think I resemble Julia - Marlowe, that from my earliest years my mind has been turned toward the - stage. I am very determined and fixed in my ways, and with me to decide to - do a thing is to decide to do it. I am not of a romantic nature, however, - and as I learned of the dangers of the theater, I drew back. Even a strong - nature, such as mine is, on occasions, can be influenced. I therefore - decided to change my plans, and to write plays instead of acting in them. - </p> - <p> - At first I meant to write comedies, but as I realized the gravity of life, - and its bitterness and disappointments, I turned naturally to tragedy. - Surely, as dear Shakespeare says: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - The world is a stage - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Where every man must play a part, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - And mine a sad one. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - This explains my sincere interest in Mr. Beecher. His works were all - realistic and sad. I remember that I saw the first one three years ago, - when a mere child, and became violently ill from crying and had to be - taken home. - </p> - <p> - The school will recall that last year I wrote a play, patterned on The - Divorce, and that only a certain narrowness of view on the part of the - faculty prevented it being the class play. If I may be permitted to - express an opinion, we of the class of 1917 are not children, and should - not be treated as such. - </p> - <p> - Encouraged by the applause of my class-mates, and feeling that I was of a - more serious turn of mind than most of them, who seem to think of pleasure - only, I decided to write a play during the summer. I would thus be - improving my vacation hours, and, I considered, keeping out of mischief. - It was pure idleness which had caused my trouble during the last Christmas - holidays. How true it is that the devil finds work for idle hands! - </p> - <p> - With a play and this theme I believed that the devil would give me up as a - total loss, and go elsewhere. - </p> - <p> - How little we can read the future! - </p> - <p> - I now proceed to an account of my meeting and acquaintance with Mr. - Beecher. It is my intention to conceal nothing. I can only comfort myself - with the thought that my motives were innocent, and that I was obeying - orders and securing material for a theme. I consider that the attitude of - my family is wrong and cruel, and that my sister Leila, being only 20 - months older, although out in society, has no need to write me the sort of - letters she has been writing. Twenty months is twenty months, and not two - years, although she seems to think it is. - </p> - <p> - I returned home full of happy plans for my vacation. When I look back it - seems strange that the gay and innocent young girl of the train can have - been! So much that is tragic has since happened. If I had not had a cinder - in my eye things would have been different. But why repine? Fate - frequently hangs thus on a single hair—an eye-lash, as one may say. - </p> - <p> - Father met me at the train. I had got the aforementioned cinder in my eye, - and a very nice young man had taken it out for me. I still cannot see what - harm there was in our chatting together after that, especially as we said - nothing to object to. But father looked very disagreeable about it, and - the young man went away in a hurry. But it started us off wrong, although - I got him—father—to promise not to tell mother. - </p> - <p> - "I do wish you would be more careful, Bab," he said with a sort of sigh. - </p> - <p> - "Careful!" I said. "Then it's not doing things, but being found out, that - matters!" - </p> - <p> - "Careful in your conduct, Bab." - </p> - <p> - "He was a beautiful young man, father," I observed, slipping my arm - through his. - </p> - <p> - "Barbara, Barbara! Your poor mother——" - </p> - <p> - "Now look here, father" I said. "If it was mother who was interested in - him it might be troublesome. But it is only me. And I warn you, here and - now, that I expect to be thrilled at the sight of a nice young man right - along. It goes up my back and out the roots of my hair." - </p> - <p> - Well, my father is a real person, so he told me to talk sense, and gave me - twenty dollars, and agreed to say nothing about the young man to mother, - if I would root for Canada against the Adirondacks for the summer, because - of the fishing. - </p> - <p> - Mother was waiting in the hall for me, but she held me off with both - hands. - </p> - <p> - "Not until you have bathed and changed your clothing, Barbara," she said. - "I have never had it." - </p> - <p> - She meant the whooping cough. The school will recall the epidemic which - ravaged us last June, and changed us from a peaceful institution to what - sounded like a dog show. - </p> - <p> - Well, I got the same old room, not much fixed up, but they had put up - different curtains anyhow, thank goodness. I had been hinting all spring - for new furniture, but my family does not take a hint unless it is - chloroformed first, and I found the same old stuff there. - </p> - <p> - They believe in waiting until a girl makes her debut before giving her - anything but the necessities of life. - </p> - <p> - Sis was off for a week-end, but Hannah was there, and I kissed her. Not - that I'm so fond of her, but I had to kiss somebody. - </p> - <p> - "Well, Miss Barbara!" she said. "How you've grown!" - </p> - <p> - That made me rather sore, because I am not a child any longer, but they - all talk to me as if I were but six years old, and small for my age. - </p> - <p> - "I've stopped growing, Hannah," I said, with dignity. "At least, almost. - But I see I still draw the nursery." - </p> - <p> - Hannah was opening my suitcase, and she looked up and said: "I tried to - get you the blue room, Miss Bab. But Miss Leila said she needed it for - house parties." - </p> - <p> - "Never mind," I said. "I don't care anything about furniture. I have other - things to think about, Hannah; I want the school room desk up here." - </p> - <p> - "Desk!" she said, with her jaw drooping. - </p> - <p> - "I am writing now," I said. "I need a lot of ink, and paper, and a good - lamp. Let them keep the blue room, Hannah, for their selfish purposes. I - shall be happy in my work. I need nothing more." - </p> - <p> - "Writing!" said Hannah. "Is it a book you're writing?" - </p> - <p> - "A play." - </p> - <p> - "Listen to the child! A play!" - </p> - <p> - I sat on the edge of the bed. - </p> - <p> - "Listen, Hannah," I said. "It is not what is outside of us that matters. - It is what is inside. It is what we are, not what we eat, or look like, or - wear. I have given up everything, Hannah, to my career." - </p> - <p> - "You're young yet," said Hannah. "You used to be fond enough of the boys." - </p> - <p> - Hannah has been with us for years, so she gets rather talky at times, and - has to be sat upon. - </p> - <p> - "I care nothing whatever for the Other Sex," I replied haughtily. - </p> - <p> - She was opening my suitcase at the time, and I was surveying the chamber - which was to be the seen of my Literary Life, at least for some time. - </p> - <p> - "Now and then," I said to Hannah, "I shall read you parts of it. Only you - mustn't run and tell mother." - </p> - <p> - "Why not?" said she, peering into the Suitcase. - </p> - <p> - "Because I intend to deal with Life," I said. "I shall deal with real - Things, and not the way we think them. I am young, but I have thought a - great deal. I shall mince nothing." - </p> - <p> - "Look here, Miss Barbara," Hannah said, all at once, "what are you doing - with this whiskey flask? And these socks? And—you come right here, - and tell me where you got the things in this suitcase." I stocked over to - the bed, and my blood froze in my veins. IT WAS NOT MINE. - </p> - <p> - Words cannot fully express how I felt. While fully convinced that there - had been a mistake, I knew not when or how. Hannah was staring at me with - cold and accusing eyes. - </p> - <p> - "You're a very young lady, Miss Barbara," she said, with her eyes full of - Suspicion, "to be carrying a flask about with you." I was as puzzled as - she was, but I remained calm and to all appearances Spartan. - </p> - <p> - "I am young in years," I remarked. "But I have seen Life, Hannah." - </p> - <p> - Now I meant nothing by this at the time. But it was getting on my nerves - to be put in the infant class all the time. The Christmas before they had - done it, and I had had my revenge. Although it had hurt me more than it - hurt them, and if I gave them a fright I gave myself a worse one. As I - said at that time: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Oh, what a tangled web we weave, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - When first we practice to deceive. - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Sir Walter Scott. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - Hannah gave me a horrified glare, and dipped into the suitcase again. She - brought up a tin box of cigarettes, and I thought she was going to have - delirium tremens at once. - </p> - <p> - Well, at first I thought the girls at school had played a trick on me, and - a low down mean trick at that. There are always those who think it is - funny to do that sort of thing, but they are the first to squeal when - anything is done to them. Once I put a small garter snake in a girl's - muff, and it went up her sleeve, which is nothing to some of the things - she had done to me. And you would have thought the school was on fire. - </p> - <p> - Anyhow, I said to myself that some Smarty was trying to get me into - trouble, and Hannah would run to the family, and they'd never believe me. - All at once I saw all my cherished plans for the summer gone, and me in - the country somewhere with Mademoiselle, and walking through the pasture - with a botany in one hand and a folding cup in the other, in case we found - a spring a cow had not stepped in. Mademoiselle was once my Governess, but - has retired to private life, except in cases of emergency. - </p> - <p> - I am naturally very quick in mind. The Archibalds are all like that, and - when once we decide on a course we stick to it through thick and thin. But - we do not lie. It is ridiculous for Hannah to say I said the cigarettes - were mine. All I said was: - </p> - <p> - "I suppose you are going to tell the family. You'd better run, or you'll - burst." - </p> - <p> - "Oh, Miss Barbara, Miss Barbara!" she said. "And you so young to be so - wild!" - </p> - <p> - This was unjust, and I am one to resent injustice. I had returned home - with my mind fixed on serious things, and now I was being told I was wild. - </p> - <p> - "If I tell your mother she'll have a fit," Hannah said, evidently drawn - hither and thither by emotion. "Now see here, Miss Bab, you've just come - home, and there was trouble at your last vacation that I'm like to - remember to my dying day. You tell me how those things got there, like a - good girl, and I'll say nothing about them." - </p> - <p> - I am naturally sweet in disposition, but to call me a good girl and remind - me of last Christmas holidays was too much. My natural firmness came to - the front. - </p> - <p> - "Certainly NOT," I said. - </p> - <p> - "You needn't stick your lip out at me, Miss Bab, that was only giving you - a chance, and forgetting my duty to help you, not to mention probably - losing my place when the family finds out." - </p> - <p> - "Finds out what?" - </p> - <p> - "What you've been up to, the stage, and writing plays, and now liquor and - tobacco!" - </p> - <p> - Now I may be at fault in the narrative that follows. But I ask the school - if this was fair treatment. I had returned to my home full of high ideals, - only to see them crushed beneath the heal of domestic tyranny. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Necessity is the argument of tyrants; - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - it is the creed of slaves. - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - William Pitt. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - How true are these immortal words. - </p> - <p> - It was with a firm countenance but a sinking heart that I saw Hannah leave - the room. I had come home inspired with lofty ambition, and it had ended - thus. Heart-broken, I wandered to the bedside, and let my eyes fall on the - suitcase, the container of all my woe. - </p> - <p> - Well, I was surprised, all right. It was not and never had been mine. - Instead of my blue serge sailor suit and my 'robe de nuit' and kimono - etc., it contained a checked gentleman's suit, a mussed shirt and a cap. - At first I was merely astonished. Then a sense of loss overpowered me. I - suffered. I was prostrated with grief. Not that I cared a rap for the - clothes I'd lost, being most of them to small and patched here and there. - But I had lost the plot of my play. My career was gone. - </p> - <p> - I was undone. - </p> - <p> - It may be asked what has this recital to do with the account of meeting a - celebrity. I reply that it has a great deal to do with it. A bare recital - of a meeting may be news, but it is not art. - </p> - <p> - A theme consists of Introduction, Body and Conclusion. - </p> - <p> - This is still the Introduction. - </p> - <p> - When I was at last revived enough to think I knew what had happened. The - young man who took the cinder out of my eye had come to sit beside me, - which I consider was merely kindness on his part and nothing like - flirting, and he had brought his suitcase over, and they had got mixed up. - But I knew the family would call it flirting, and not listen to a word I - said. - </p> - <p> - A madness seized me. Now that everything is over, I realize that it was - madness. But "there is a divinity that shapes our ends etc." It was to be. - It was Karma, or Kismet, or whatever the word is. It was written in the - Book of Fate that I was to go ahead, and wreck my life, and generally ruin - everything. - </p> - <p> - I locked the door behind Hannah, and stood with tragic feet, "where the - brook and river meet." What was I to do? How hide this evidence of my - (presumed) duplicity? I was innocent, but I looked guilty. This, as - everyone knows, is worse than guilt. - </p> - <p> - I unpacked the suitcase as fast as I could, therefore, and being just - about distracted, I bundled the things up and put them all together in the - toy closet, where all Sis's dolls and mine are, mine being mostly pretty - badly gone, as I was always hard on dolls. - </p> - <p> - How far removed were those innocent years when I played with dolls! - </p> - <p> - Well, I knew Hannah pretty well, and therefore was not surprised when, - having hidden the trousers under a doll buggy, I heard mother's voice at - the door. - </p> - <p> - "Let me in, Barbara," she said. - </p> - <p> - I closed the closet door, and said: "What is it, mother?" - </p> - <p> - "Let me in." - </p> - <p> - So I let her in, and pretended I expected her to kiss me, which she had - not yet, on account of the whooping cough. But she seemed to have - forgotten that. Also the kiss. - </p> - <p> - "Barbara," she said, in the meanest voice, "how long have you been - smoking?" - </p> - <p> - Now I must pause to explain this. Had mother approached me in a sweet and - maternal manner, I would have been softened, and would have told the whole - story. But she did not. She was, as you might say, steaming with rage. And - seeing that I was misunderstood, I hardened. I can be as hard as adamant - when necessary. - </p> - <p> - "What do you mean, mother?" - </p> - <p> - "Don't answer one question with another." - </p> - <p> - "How can I answer when I don't understand you?" - </p> - <p> - She simply twitched with fury. - </p> - <p> - "You—a mere Child!" she raved. "And I can hardly bring myself to - mention it—the idea of your owning a flask, and bringing it into - this house—it is—it is——" - </p> - <p> - Well, I was growing cold and more haughty every moment, so I said: "I - don't see why the mere mention of a flask upsets you so. It isn't because - you aren't used to one, especially when traveling. And since I was a mere - baby I have been accustomed to intoxicants." - </p> - <p> - "Barbara!" she interjected, in the most dreadful tone. - </p> - <p> - "I mean, in the family," I said. "I have seen wine on our table ever since - I can remember. I knew to put salt on a claret stain before I could talk." - </p> - <p> - Well, you know how it is to see an enemy on the run, and although I regret - to refer to my dear mother as an enemy, still at that moment she was such - and no less. And she was beating it. It was the reference to my youth that - had aroused me, and I was like a wounded lion. Besides, I knew well enough - that if they refused to see that I was practically grown up, if not - entirely, I would get a lot of Sis's clothes, fixed up with new ribbons. - Faded old things! I'd had them for years. - </p> - <p> - Better to be considered a bad woman than an unformed child. - </p> - <p> - "However, mother," I finished, "if it is any comfort to you, I did not buy - that flask. And I am not a confirmed alcoholic. By no means." - </p> - <p> - "This settles it," she said, in a melancholy tone. "When I think of the - comfort Leila has been to me, and the anxiety you have caused, I wonder - where you get your—your DEVILTRY from. I am positively faint." - </p> - <p> - I was alarmed, for she did look queer, with her face all white around the - rouge. So I reached for the flask. - </p> - <p> - "I'll give you a swig of this," I said. "It will pull you around in no - time." - </p> - <p> - But she held me off fiercely. - </p> - <p> - "Never!" she said. "Never again. I shall empty the wine cellar. There will - be nothing to drink in this house from now on. I do not know what we are - coming to." - </p> - <p> - She walked into the bathroom, and I heard her emptying the flask down the - drain pipe. It was a very handsome flask, silver with gold stripes, and - all at once I knew the young man would want it back. So I said: - </p> - <p> - "Mother, please leave the flask here anyhow." - </p> - <p> - "Certainly not." - </p> - <p> - "It's not mine, mother." - </p> - <p> - "Whose is it?" - </p> - <p> - "It—a friend of mine loaned it to me." - </p> - <p> - "Who?" - </p> - <p> - "I can't tell you." - </p> - <p> - "You can't TELL me! Barbara, I am utterly bewildered. I sent you away a - simple child, and you return to me—what?" - </p> - <p> - Well, we had about an hour's fight over it, and we ended in a compromise. - I gave up the flask, and promised not to smoke and so forth, and I was to - have some new dresses and a silk sweater, and to be allowed to stay up - until ten o'clock, and to have a desk in my room for my work. - </p> - <p> - "Work!" mother said. "Career! What next? Why can't you be like Leila, and - settle down to having a good time?" - </p> - <p> - "Leila and I are different," I said loftily, for I resented her tone. - "Leila is a child of the moment. Life for her is one grand, sweet Song. - For me it is a serious matter. 'Life is real, life is earnest, and the - grave is not its goal,'" I quoted in impassioned tones. - </p> - <p> - (Because that is the way I feel. How can the grave be its goal? THERE MUST - BE SOMETHING BEYOND. I have thought it all out, and I believe in a world - beyond, but not in a hell. Hell, I believe, is the state of mind one gets - into in this world as a result of one's wicked acts or one's wicked - thoughts, and is in one's self.) - </p> - <p> - As I have said, the other side of the compromise was that I was not to - carry flasks with me, or drink any punch at parties if it had a stick in - it, and you can generally find out by the taste. For if it is what Carter - Brooks calls "loaded" it stings your tongue. Or if it tastes like cider - it's probably champagne. And I was not to smoke any cigarettes. - </p> - <p> - Mother was holding out on the sweater at that time, saying that Sis had a - perfectly good one from Miami, and why not wear that? So I put up a strong - protest about the cigarettes, although I have never smoked but once as I - think the school knows, and that only half through, owing to getting - dizzy. I said that Sis smoked now and then, because she thought it looked - smart; but that, if I was to have a career, I felt that the soothing - influence of tobacco would help a lot. - </p> - <p> - So I got the new sweater, and everything looked smooth again, and mother - kissed me on the way out, and said she had not meant to be harsh, but that - my great uncle Putnam had been a notorious drunkard, and I looked like - him, although of a more refined type. - </p> - <p> - There was a dreadful row that night, however, when father came home. We - were all dressed for dinner, and waiting in the drawing room, and Leila - was complaining about me, as usual. - </p> - <p> - "She looks older than I do now, mother," she said. "If she goes to the - seashore with us I'll have her always tagging at my heals. I don't see why - I can't have my first summer in peace." Oh, yes, we were going to the - shore, after all. Sis wanted it, and everybody does what she wants, - regardless of what they prefer, even fishing. - </p> - <p> - "First summer!" I exclaimed. "One would think you were a teething baby!" - </p> - <p> - "I was speaking to mother, Barbara. Everyone knows that a debutante only - has one year nowadays, and if she doesn't go off in that year she's swept - away by the flood of new girls the next fall. We might as well be frank. - And while Barbara's not a beauty, as soon as the bones in her neck get a - little flesh on them she won't be hopeless, and she has a flippant manner - that men like." - </p> - <p> - "I intend to keep Barbara under my eyes this summer," mother said firmly. - "After last Christmas's happenings, and our discovery today, I shall keep - her with me. She need not, however, interfere with you, Leila. Her hours - are mostly different, and I will see that her friends are the younger - boys." - </p> - <p> - I said nothing, but I knew perfectly well she had in mind Eddie Perkins - and Willie Graham, and a lot of other little kids that hang around the - fruit punch at parties, and throw the peas from the croquettes at each - other when the footmen are not near, and pretend they are allowed to - smoke, but have sworn off for the summer. - </p> - <p> - I was naturally indignant at Sis's words, which were not filial, to my - mind, but I replied as sweetly as possible: - </p> - <p> - "I shall not be in your way, Leila. I ask nothing but food and shelter, - and that perhaps not for long." - </p> - <p> - "Why? Do you intend to die?" she demanded. - </p> - <p> - "I intend to work," I said. "It's more interesting than dieing, and will - be a novelty in this house." - </p> - <p> - Father came in just then, and he said: - </p> - <p> - "I'll not wait to dress, Clara. Hello, children. I'll just change my - collar while you ring for the cocktails." - </p> - <p> - Mother got up and faced him with majesty. - </p> - <p> - "We are not going to have, any" she said. - </p> - <p> - "Any what?" said father from the doorway. - </p> - <p> - "I have had some fruit juice prepared with a dash of bitters. It is quite - nice. And I'll ask you, James, not to explode before the servants. I will - explain later." - </p> - <p> - Father has a very nice disposition but I could see that mother's manner - got on his nerves, as it got on mine. Anyhow there was a terrific fuss, - with Sis playing the piano so that the servants would not hear, and in the - end father had a cocktail. Mother waited until he had had it, and was - quieter, and then she told him about me, and my having a flask in my - suitcase. Of course I could have explained, but if they persisted in - misunderstanding me, why not let them do so, and be miserable? - </p> - <p> - "It's a very strange thing, Bab," he said, looking at me, "that everything - in this house is quiet until you come home, and then we get as lively as - kittens in a frying pan. We'll have to marry you off pretty soon, to save - our piece of mind." - </p> - <p> - "James!" said my mother. "Remember last winter, please." - </p> - <p> - There was no claret or anything with dinner, and father ordered mineral - water, and criticized the food, and fussed about Sis's dressmaker's bill. - And the second man gave notice immediately after we left the dining room. - When mother reported that, as we were having coffee in the drawing room, - father said: - </p> - <p> - "Humph! Well, what can you expect? Those fellows have been getting the - best half of a bottle of claret every night since they've been here, and - now it's cut off. Damned if I wouldn't like to leave myself." - </p> - <p> - From that time on I knew that I was watched. It made little or no - difference to me. I had my work, and it filled my life. There were times - when my soul was so filled with joy that I could hardly bare it. I had one - act done in two days. I wrote out the love scenes in full, because I - wanted to be sure of what they would say to each other. How I thrilled as - each marvelous burst of fantasy flowed from my pen! But the dialogue of - less interesting parts I left for the actors to fill in themselves. I - consider this the best way, as it gives them a chance to be original, and - not to have to say the same thing over and over. - </p> - <p> - Jane Raleigh came over to see me the day after I came home, and I read her - some of the love scenes. She positively wept with excitement. - </p> - <p> - "Bab," she said, "if any man, no matter who, ever said those things to me, - I'd go straight into his arms. I couldn't help it. Whose going to act in - it?" - </p> - <p> - "I think I'll have Robert Edeson, or Richard Mansfield." - </p> - <p> - "Mansfield's dead," said Jane. - </p> - <p> - "Honestly?" - </p> - <p> - "Honest he is. Why don't you get some of these moving picture actors? They - never have a chance in the Movies, only acting and not talking." - </p> - <p> - Well, that sounded logical. And then I read her the place where the cruel - first husband comes back and finds her married again and happy, and takes - the children out to drown them, only he can't because they can swim, and - they pull him in instead. The curtain goes down on nothing but a few - bubbles rising to mark his watery grave. - </p> - <p> - Jane was crying. - </p> - <p> - "It is too touching for words, Bab!" she said. "It has broken my heart. I - can just close my eyes and see the theater dark, and the stage almost - dark, and just those bubbles coming up and breaking. Would you have to - have a tank?" - </p> - <p> - "I daresay," I replied dreamily. "Let the other people worry about that. I - can only give them the material, and hope that they have intelligence - enough to grasp it." - </p> - <p> - I think Sis must have told Carter Brooks something about the trouble I was - in, for he brought me a box of candy one afternoon, and winked at me when - mother was not looking. - </p> - <p> - "Don't open it here," he whispered. - </p> - <p> - So I was forced to control my impatience, though passionately fond of - candy. And when I got to my room later, the box was full of cigarettes. I - could have screamed. It just gave me one more thing to hide, as if a man's - suit and shirt and so on was not sufficient. - </p> - <p> - But Carter paid more attention to me than he ever had before, and at a tea - dance somebody had at the country club he took me to one side and gave me - a good talking to. - </p> - <p> - "You're being rather a bad child, aren't you?" he said. - </p> - <p> - "Certainly not." - </p> - <p> - "Well, not bad, but—er—naughty. Now see here, Bab, I'm fond of - you, and you're growing into a mighty pretty girl. But your whole social - life is at stake. For heaven's sake, at least until you're married, cut - out the cigarettes and booze." - </p> - <p> - That cut me to the heart, but what could I say? - </p> - <p> - Well, July came, and we had rented a house at Little Hampton and - everywhere one went one fell over an open trunk or a barrel containing - silver or linen. - </p> - <p> - Mother went around with her lips moving as if in prayer, but she was - really repeating lists, such as sowing basket, table candles, headache - tablets, black silk stockings and tennis rackets. - </p> - <p> - Sis got some lovely clothes, mostly imported, but they had a woman come in - and sew for me. Hannah and she used to interrupt my most precious moments - at my desk by running a tape measure around me, or pinning a paper pattern - to me. The sewing woman always had her mouth full of pins, and once, owing - to my remarking that I wished I had been illegitimate, so I could go away - and live my own life, she swallowed one. It caused a grate deal of - excitement, with Hannah blaming me and giving her vinegar to swallow to - soften the pin. Well, it turned out all right, for she kept on living, but - she pretended to have sharp pains all over her here and there, and if the - pin had been as lively as a tadpole and wriggled from spot to spot, it - could not have hurt in so many places. - </p> - <p> - Of course they blamed me, and I shut myself up more and more in my - sanctuary. There I lived with the creatures of my dreams, and forgot for a - while that I was only a Sub-Deb, and that Leila's last year's tennis - clothes were being fixed over for me. - </p> - <p> - But how true what dear Shakespeare says: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - dreams, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Which are the children of an idle brain. - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Begot of nothing but vain fantasy. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - I loved my dreams, but alas, they were not enough. After a tortured hour - or two at my desk, living in myself the agonies of my characters, - suffering the pangs of the wife with two husbands and both living, - struggling in the water with the children, fruit of the first union, dying - with number two and blowing my last bubbles heavenward—after all - these emotions, I was done out. - </p> - <p> - Jane came in one day and found me prostrate on my couch, with a light of - suffering in my eyes. - </p> - <p> - "Dearest!" cried Jane, and gliding to my side, fell on her knees. - </p> - <p> - "Jane!" - </p> - <p> - "What is it? You are ill?" - </p> - <p> - I could hardly more than whisper. In a low tone I said: - </p> - <p> - "He is dead." - </p> - <p> - "Dearest!" - </p> - <p> - "Drowned!" - </p> - <p> - At first she thought I meant a member of my family. But when she - understood she looked serious. - </p> - <p> - "You are too intense, Bab," she said solemnly. "You suffer too much. You - are wearing yourself out." - </p> - <p> - "There is no other way," I replied in broken tones. - </p> - <p> - Jane went to the Mirror and looked at herself. Then she turned to me. - </p> - <p> - "Others don't do it." - </p> - <p> - "I must work out my own Salvation, Jane," I observed firmly. But she had - roused me from my apathy, and I went into Sis's room, returning with a box - of candy some one had sent her. "I must feel, Jane, or I cannot write." - </p> - <p> - "Pooh! Loads of writers get fat on it. Why don't you try comedy? It pays - well." - </p> - <p> - "Oh—MONEY!" I said, in a disgusted tone. - </p> - <p> - "Your FORTE, of course, is love," she said. "Probably that's because - you've had so much experience." Owing to certain reasons it is generally - supposed that I have experienced the gentle passion. But not so, alas! - "Bab," Jane said, suddenly, "I have been your friend for a long time. I - have never betrayed you. You can trust me with your life. Why don't you - tell me?" - </p> - <p> - "Tell you what?" - </p> - <p> - "Something has happened. I see it in your eyes. No girl who is happy and - has not a tragic story stays at home shut up at a messy desk when everyone - is out at the club playing tennis. Don't talk to me about a career. A - girl's career is a man and nothing else. And especially after last winter, - Bab. Is—is it the same one?" - </p> - <p> - Here I made my fatal error. I should have said at once that there was no - one, just as there had been no one last winter. But she looked so intense, - sitting there, and after all, why should I not have an amorous experience? - I am not ugly, and can dance well, although inclined to lead because of - dancing with other girls all winter at school. So I lay back on my pillow - and stared at the ceiling. - </p> - <p> - "No. It is not the same man." - </p> - <p> - "What is he like? Bab, I'm so excited I can't sit still." - </p> - <p> - "It—it hurts to talk about him," I observed faintly. - </p> - <p> - Now I intended to let it go at that, and should have, had not Jane kept on - asking questions. Because I had had a good lesson the winter before, and - did not intend to deceive again. And this I will say—I really told - Jane Raleigh nothing. She jumped to her own conclusions. And as for her - people saying she cannot chum with me any more, I will only say this: If - Jane Raleigh smokes she did not learn it from me. - </p> - <p> - Well, I had gone as far as I meant to. I was not really in love with - anyone, although I liked Carter Brooks, and would possibly have loved him - with all the depth of my nature if Sis had not kept an eye on me most of - the time. However—— - </p> - <p> - Jane seemed to be expecting something, and I tried to think of some way to - satisfy her and not make any trouble. And then I thought of the suitcase. - So I locked the door and made her promise not to tell, and got the whole - thing out of the toy closet. - </p> - <p> - "Wha—what is it?" asked Jane. - </p> - <p> - I said nothing, but opened it all up. The flask was gone, but the rest was - there, and Carter's box too. Jane leaned down and lifted the trousers and - poked around somewhat. Then she straitened and said: - </p> - <p> - "You have run away and got married, Bab." - </p> - <p> - "Jane!" - </p> - <p> - She looked at me piercingly. - </p> - <p> - "Don't lie to me," she said accusingly. "Or else what are you doing with a - man's whole outfit, including his dirty collar? Bab, I just can't bare - it." - </p> - <p> - Well, I saw that I had gone to far, and was about to tell Jane the truth - when I heard the sewing woman in the hall. I had all I could do to get the - things put away, and with Jane looking like death I had to stand there and - be fitted for one of Sis's chiffon frocks, with the low neck filled in - with net. - </p> - <p> - "You must remember, Miss Bab," said the human pin cushion, "that you are - still a very young girl, and not out yet." - </p> - <p> - Jane got up off the bed suddenly. - </p> - <p> - "I—I guess I'll go, Bab," she said. "I don't feel very well." - </p> - <p> - As she went out she stopped in the doorway and crossed her heart, meaning - that she would die before she would tell anything. But I was not - comfortable. It is not a pleasant thought that your best friend considers - you married and gone beyond recall, when in truth you are not, or even - thinking about it, except in idle moments. - </p> - <p> - The seen now changes. Life is nothing but such changes. No sooner do we - alight on one branch, and begin to sip the honey from it, but we are taken - up and carried elsewhere, perhaps to the mountains or to the sea-shore, - and there left to make new friends and find new methods of enjoyment. - </p> - <p> - The flight—or journey—was in itself an anxious time. For on my - otherwise clear conscience rested the weight of that strange suitcase. - Fortunately Hannah was so busy that I was left to pack my belongings - myself, and thus for a time my guilty secret was safe. I put my things in - on top of the masculine articles, not daring to leave any of them in the - closet, owing to house-cleaning, which is always done before our return in - the fall. - </p> - <p> - On the train I had a very unpleasant experience, due to Sis opening my - suitcase to look for a magazine, and drawing out a soiled gentleman's - collar. She gave me a very piercing glance, but said nothing and at the - next opportunity I threw it out of a window, concealed in a newspaper. - </p> - <p> - We now approach the catastrophe. My book on play writing divides plays - into Introduction, Development, Crisis, Denouement and Catastrophe. And so - one may divide life. In my case the cinder proved the introduction, as - there was none other. I consider that the suitcase was the development, my - showing it to Jane Raleigh was the crisis, and the denouement or - catastrophe occurred later on. - </p> - <p> - Let us then proceed to the catastrophe. - </p> - <p> - Jane Raleigh came to see me off at the train. Her family was coming the - next day. And instead of flowers, she put a small bundle into my hands. - "Keep it hidden, Bab," she said, "and tear up the card." - </p> - <p> - I looked when I got a chance, and she had crocheted me a wash cloth, with - a pink edge. "For your linen chest," the card said, "and I'm doing a bath - towel to match." - </p> - <p> - I tore up the card, but I put the wash cloth with the other things I was - trying to hide, because it is bad luck to throw a gift away. But I hoped, - as I seemed to be getting more things to conceal all the time, that she - would make me a small bath towel, and not the sort as big as a bed spread. - </p> - <p> - Father went with us to get us settled, and we had a long talk while mother - and Sis made out lists for dinners and so forth. - </p> - <p> - "Look here, Bab," he said, "something's wrong with you. I seem to have - lost my only boy, and have got instead a sort of tear-y young person I - don't recognize." - </p> - <p> - "I'm growing up, father" I said. I did not mean to rebuke him, but ye - gods! Was I the only one to see that I was no longer a child? - </p> - <p> - "Sometimes I think you are not very happy with us." - </p> - <p> - "Happy?" I pondered. "Well, after all, what is happiness?" - </p> - <p> - He took a spell of coughing then, and when it was over he put his arms - around me and was quite affectionate. - </p> - <p> - "What a queer little rat it is!" he said. - </p> - <p> - I only repeat this to show how even my father, with all his affection and - good qualities, did not understand and never would understand. My heart - was full of a longing to be understood. I wanted to tell him my yearnings - for better things, my aspirations to make my life a great and glorious - thing. AND HE DID NOT UNDERSTAND. - </p> - <p> - He gave me five dollars instead. Think of the tragedy of it! - </p> - <p> - As we went along, and he pulled my ear and finally went asleep with a hand - on my shoulder, the bareness of my life came to me. I shook with sobs. And - outside somewhere Sis and mother made dinner lists. Then and there I made - up my mind to work hard and achieve, to become great and powerful, to - write things that would ring the hearts of men—and women, to, of - course—and to come back to them some day, famous and beautiful, and - when they sued for my love, to be kind and haughty, but cold. I felt that - I would always be cold, although gracious. - </p> - <p> - I decided then to be a writer of plays first, and then later on to act in - them. I would thus be able to say what came into my head, as it was my own - play. Also to arrange the scenes so as to wear a variety of gowns, - including evening things. I spent the rest of the afternoon manicuring my - nails in our state room. - </p> - <p> - Well, we got there at last. It was a large house, but everything was to - thin about it. The school will understand this, the same being the - condition of the new freshman dormitory. The walls were to thin, and so - were the floors. The doors shivered in the wind, and palpitated if you - slammed them. Also you could hear every sound everywhere. - </p> - <p> - I looked around me in despair. Where, oh where, was I to find my cherished - solitude? Where? - </p> - <p> - On account of Hannah hating a new place, and considering the house an - insult to the servants, especially only one bathroom for the lot of them, - she let me unpack alone, and so far I was safe. But where was I to work? - Fate settled that for me however. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - There is no armor against fate; - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Death lays his icy hand on Kings. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent25"> - J. Shirley; Dirge. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - Previously, however, mother and I had had a talk. She sailed into my room - one evening, dressed for dinner, and found me in my ROBE DE NUIT, curled - up in the window seat admiring the view of the ocean. - </p> - <p> - "Well!" she said. "Is this the way you intend going to dinner?" - </p> - <p> - "I do not care for any dinner," I replied. Then, seeing she did not - understand, I said coldly. "How can I care for food, mother, when the sea - looks like a dying opal?" - </p> - <p> - "Dying pussycat!" mother said, in a very nasty way. "I don't know what has - come over you, Barbara. You used to be a normal child, and there was some - accounting for what you were going to do. But now! Take off that - nightgown, and I'll have Tanney hold off dinner for half an hour." - </p> - <p> - Tanney was the butler who had taken Patrick's place. - </p> - <p> - "If you insist," I said coldly. "But I shall not eat." - </p> - <p> - "Why not?" - </p> - <p> - "You wouldn't understand, mother." - </p> - <p> - "Oh, I wouldn't? Well, suppose I try," she said, and sat down. "I am not - very intelligent, but if you put it clearly I may grasp it. Perhaps you'd - better speak slowly, also." - </p> - <p> - So, sitting there in my room, while the sea throbbed in tireless beats - against the shore, while the light faded and the stars issued, one by one, - like a rash on the face of the sky, I told mother of my dreams. I - intended, I said, to write life as it really is, and not as supposed to - be. - </p> - <p> - "It may in places be, ugly" I said, "but truth is my banner. The truth is - never ugly, because it is real. It is, for instance, not ugly if a man is - in love with the wife of another, if it is real love, and not the passing - fancy of a moment." - </p> - <p> - Mother opened her mouth, but did not say anything. - </p> - <p> - "There was a time," I said, "when I longed for things that now have no - value whatever to me. I cared for clothes and even for the attentions of - the other sex. But that has passed away, mother. I have now no thought but - for my career." - </p> - <p> - I watched her face, and soon the dreadful understanding came to me. She, - too, did not understand. My literary aspirations were as nothing to her! - </p> - <p> - Oh, the bitterness of that moment. My mother, who had cared for me as a - child, and obeyed my slightest wish, no longer understood me. And saddest - of all, there was no way out. None. Once, in my youth, I had believed that - I was not the child of my parents at all, but an adopted one—perhaps - of rank and kept out of my inheritance by those who had selfish motives. - But now I knew that I had no rank or inheritance, save what I should carve - out for myself. There was no way out. None. - </p> - <p> - Mother rose slowly, staring at me with perfectly fixed and glassy eyes. - </p> - <p> - "I am absolutely sure," she said, "that you are on the edge of something. - It may be typhoid, or it may be an elopement. But one thing is certain. - You are not normal." - </p> - <p> - With this she left me to my thoughts. But she did not neglect me. Sis came - up after dinner, and I saw mother's fine hand in that. Although not hungry - in the usual sense of the word, I had begun to grow rather empty, and was - nibbling out of a box of chocolates when Sis came. - </p> - <p> - She got very little out of me. To one with softness and tenderness I would - have told all, but Sis is not that sort. And at last she showed her claws. - </p> - <p> - "Don't fool yourself for a minute," she said. "This literary pose has not - fooled anybody. Either you're doing it to appear interesting, or you've - done something you're scared about. Which is it?" - </p> - <p> - I refused to reply. - </p> - <p> - "Because if it's the first, and you're trying to look literary, you are - going about it wrong," she said. "Real Literary People don't go round - mooning and talking about the opal sea." - </p> - <p> - I saw mother had been talking, and I drew myself up. - </p> - <p> - "They look and act like other people," said Leila, going to the bureau and - spilling powder all over the place. "Look at Beecher." - </p> - <p> - "Beecher!" I cried, with a thrill that started inside my elbows. (I have - read this to one or two of the girls, and they say there is no such - thrill. But not all people act alike under the influence of emotion, and - mine is in my arms, as stated.) - </p> - <p> - "The playwright," Sis said. "He's staying next door. And if he does any - languishing it is not by himself." - </p> - <p> - There may be some who have for a long time had an ideal, but without - hoping ever to meet him, and then suddenly learning that he is nearby, - with indeed but a wall or two between, can be calm and cool. But I am not - like that. Although long suppression has taught me to dissemble at times, - where my heart is concerned I am powerless. - </p> - <p> - For it was at last my heart that was touched. I, who had scorned the other - sex and felt that I was born cold and always would be cold, that day I - discovered the truth. Reginald Beecher was my ideal. I had never spoken to - him, nor indeed seen him, except for his pictures. But the very mention of - his name brought a lump to my throat. - </p> - <p> - Feeling better immediately, I got Sis out of the room and coaxed Hannah to - bring me some dinner. While she was sneaking it out of the pantry I was - dressing, and soon, as a new being, I was out on the stone bench at the - foot of the lawn, gazing with rapt eyes at the sea. - </p> - <p> - But fate was against me. Eddie Perkins saw me there and came over. He had - but recently been put in long trousers, and those not his best ones but - only white flannels. He was never sure of his garters, and was always - looking to see if his socks were coming down. Well, he came over just as I - was sure I saw Reginald Beecher next door on the veranda, and made himself - a nuisance right away, trying all sorts of kid tricks, such as snapping a - rubber band at me, and pulling out hairpins. - </p> - <p> - But I felt that I must talk to someone. So I said: - </p> - <p> - "Eddie, if you had your choice of love or a career, which would it be?" - </p> - <p> - "Why not both," he said, hitching the rubber band onto one of his front - teeth and playing on it. "Neither ought to take up all a fellow's time. - Say, listen to this! Talk about a ukelele!" - </p> - <p> - "A woman can never have both." - </p> - <p> - He played a while, strumming with one finger until the hand slipped off - and stung him on the lip. - </p> - <p> - "Once," I said, "I dreamed of a career. But I believe love's the most - important." - </p> - <p> - Well, I shall pass lightly over what followed. Why is it that a girl - cannot speak of love without every member of the other sex present, no - matter how young, thinking it is he? And as for mother maintaining that I - kissed that wretched child, and they saw me from the drawing-room, it is - not true and never was true. It was but one more misunderstanding which - convinced the family that I was carrying on all manner of affairs. - </p> - <p> - Carter Brooks had arrived that day, and was staying at the Perkins' - cottage. I got rid of the Perkins' baby, as his nose was bleeding—but - I had not slapped him hard at all, and felt little or no compunction—when - I heard Carter coming down the walk. He had called to see Leila, but she - had gone to a beach dance and left him alone. He never paid any attention - to me when she was around, and I received him coolly. - </p> - <p> - "Hello!" he said. - </p> - <p> - "Well?" I replied. - </p> - <p> - "Is that the way you greet me, Bab?" - </p> - <p> - "It's the way I would greet most any left-over," I said. "I eat hash at - school, but I don't have to pretend to like it." - </p> - <p> - "I came to see YOU." - </p> - <p> - "How youthful of you!" I replied, in stinging tones. - </p> - <p> - He sat down on a bench and stared at me. - </p> - <p> - "What's got into you lately?" he said. "Just as you're getting to be the - prettiest girl around, and I'm strong for you, you—you turn into a - regular rattlesnake." - </p> - <p> - The kindness of his tone upset me considerably, to who so few kind words - had come recently. I am compelled to confess that I wept, although I had - not expected to, and indeed shed few tears, although bitter ones. - </p> - <p> - How could I possibly know that the chaste salute of Eddie Perkins and my - head on Carter Brooks' shoulder were both plainly visible against the - rising moon? But this was the case, especially from the house next door. - </p> - <p> - But I digress. - </p> - <p> - Suddenly Carter held me off and shook me somewhat. - </p> - <p> - "Sit up here and tell me about it," he said. "I'm getting more scared - every minute. You are such an impulsive little beast, and you turn the - fellows' heads so—look here, is Jane Raleigh lying, or did you run - away and get married to someone?" - </p> - <p> - I am aware that I should have said, then and there, No. But it seemed a - shame to spoil things just as they were getting interesting. So I said, - through my tears: - </p> - <p> - "Nobody understands me. Nobody. And I'm so lonely." - </p> - <p> - "And of course you haven't run away with anyone, have you?" - </p> - <p> - "Not—exactly." - </p> - <p> - "Bless you, Bab!" he said. And I might as well say that he kissed me, - because he did, although unexpectedly. Somebody just then moved a chair on - the porch next door and coughed rather loudly, so Carter drew a long - breath and got up. - </p> - <p> - "There's something about you lately, Bab, that I don't understand," he - said. "You—you're mysterious. That's the word. In a couple of years - you'll be the real thing." - </p> - <p> - "Come and see me then," I said in a demure manner. And he went away. - </p> - <p> - So I sat on my bench and looked at the sea and dreamed. It seemed to me - that centuries must have passed since I was a lighthearted girl, running - up and down that beach, paddling, and so forth, with no thought of the - future farther away than my next meal. - </p> - <p> - Once I lived to eat. Now I merely ate to live, and hardly that. The fires - of genius must be fed, but no more. - </p> - <p> - Sitting there, I suddenly made a discovery. The boat house was near me, - and I realized that upstairs, above the bath-houses, et cetera, there must - be a room or two. The very thought intrigued me (a new word for interest, - but coming into use, and sounding well). - </p> - <p> - Solitude—how I craved it for my work. And here it was, or would be - when I had got the place fixed up. True, the next door boat-house was - close, but a boat-house is a quiet place, generally, and I knew that - nowhere, aside from the desert, is there perfect silence. - </p> - <p> - I investigated at once, but found the place locked and the boatman gone. - However, there was a lattice, and I climbed up that and got in. I had a - fright there, as it seemed to be full of people, but I soon saw it was - only the family bathing suits hung up to dry. Aside from the odor of - drying things it was a fine study, and I decided to take a small table - there, and the various tools of my profession. - </p> - <p> - Climbing down, however, I had a surprise. For a man was just below, and I - nearly put my foot on his shoulder in the darkness. - </p> - <p> - "Hello!" he said. "So it's YOU." - </p> - <p> - I was quite speechless. It was Mr. Beecher himself, in his dinner clothes - and bareheaded. - </p> - <p> - Oh fluttering heart, be still. Oh pen, move steadily. OH TEMPORA O MORES! - </p> - <p> - "Let me down," I said. I was still hanging to the lattice. - </p> - <p> - "In a moment," he said. "I have an idea that the instant I do you'll - vanish. And I have something to tell you." - </p> - <p> - I could hardly believe my ears. - </p> - <p> - "You see," he went on, "I think you must move that bench." - </p> - <p> - "Bench?" - </p> - <p> - "You seem to be so very popular," he said. "And of course I'm only a - transient and don't matter. But some evening one of the admirers may be on - the Patten's porch, while another is with you on the bench. And—the - Moon rises beyond it." - </p> - <p> - I was silent with horror. So that was what he thought of me. Like all the - others, he, too, did not understand. He considered me a flirt, when my - only thoughts were serious ones, of immortality and so on. - </p> - <p> - "You'd better come down now," he said. "I was afraid to warn you until I - saw you climbing the lattice. Then I knew you were still young enough to - take a friendly word of advice." - </p> - <p> - I got down then and stood before him. He was magnificent. Is there - anything more beautiful than a tall man with a gleaming expanse of dress - shirt? I think not. - </p> - <p> - But he was staring at me. - </p> - <p> - "Look here," he said. "I'm afraid I've made a mistake after all. I thought - you were a little girl." - </p> - <p> - "That needn't worry you. Everybody does," I replied. "I'm seventeen, but I - shall be a mere child until I come out." - </p> - <p> - "Oh!" he said. - </p> - <p> - "One day I am a child in the nursery," I said. "And the next I'm grown up - and ready to be sold to the highest bidder." - </p> - <p> - "I beg your pardon, I——" - </p> - <p> - "But I am as grown up now as I will ever be," I said. "And indeed more so. - I think a great deal now, because I have plenty of time. But my sister - never thinks at all. She is too busy." - </p> - <p> - "Suppose we sit on the bench. The moon is too high to be a menace, and - besides, I am not dangerous. Now, what do you think about?" - </p> - <p> - "About life, mostly. But of course there is death, which is beautiful but - cold. And—one always thinks of love, doesn't one?" - </p> - <p> - "Does one?" he asked. I could see he was much interested. As for me, I - dared not consider whom it was who sat beside me, almost touching. That - way lay madness. - </p> - <p> - "Don't you ever," he said, "reflect on just ordinary things, like clothes - and so forth?" - </p> - <p> - I shrugged my shoulders. - </p> - <p> - "I don't get enough new clothes to worry about. Mostly I think of my - work." - </p> - <p> - "Work?" - </p> - <p> - "I am a writer" I said in a low, earnest tone. - </p> - <p> - "No! How—how amazing. What do you write?" - </p> - <p> - "I'm on a play now." - </p> - <p> - "A comedy?" - </p> - <p> - "No. A tragedy. How can I write a comedy when a play must always end in a - catastrophe? The book says all plays end in crisis, denouement and - catastrophe." - </p> - <p> - "I can't believe it," he said. "But, to tell you a secret, I never read - any books about plays." - </p> - <p> - "We are not all gifted from berth, as you are," I observed, not to merely - please him, but because I considered it the simple truth. - </p> - <p> - He pulled out his watch and looked at it in the moonlight. - </p> - <p> - "All this reminds me," he said, "that I have promised to go to work - tonight. But this is so—er—thrilling that I guess the work can - wait. Well—now go on." - </p> - <p> - Oh, the joy of that night! How can I describe it? To be at last in the - company of one who understood, who—as he himself had said in "Her - Soul"—spoke my own language! Except for the occasional mosquito, - there was no sound save the tumescent sea and his voice. - </p> - <p> - Often since that time I have sat and listened to conversation. How flat it - sounds to listen to father conversing about Gold, or Sis about Clothes, or - even to the young men who come to call, and always talk about themselves. - </p> - <p> - We were at last interrupted in a strange manner. Mr. Patten came down - their walk and crossed to us, walking very fast. He stopped right in front - of us and said: - </p> - <p> - "Look here, Reg, this is about all I can stand." - </p> - <p> - "Oh, go away, and sing, or do something," said Mr. Beecher sharply. - </p> - <p> - "You gave me your word of honor" said the Patten man. "I can only remind - you of that. Also of the expense I'm incurring, and all the rest of it. - I've shown all sorts of patience, but this is the limit." - </p> - <p> - He turned on his heel, but came back for a last word or two. - </p> - <p> - "Now see here," he said, "we have everything fixed the way you said you - wanted it. And I'll give you ten minutes. That's all." - </p> - <p> - He stalked away, and Mr. Beecher looked at me. - </p> - <p> - "Ten minutes of heaven," he said, "and then perdition with that bunch. - Look here," he said, "I—I'm awfully interested in what you are - telling me. Let's cut off up the beach and talk." - </p> - <p> - Oh night of nights! Oh moon of moons! - </p> - <p> - Our talk was strictly business. He asked me my plot, and although I had - been warned not to do so, even to David Belasco, I gave it to him fully. - And even now, when all is over, I am not sorry. Let him use it if he will. - I can think of plenty of plots. - </p> - <p> - The real tragedy is that we met father. He had been ordered to give up - smoking, and I considered he had done so, mother feeling that I should be - encouraged in leaving off cigarettes. So when I saw the cigar I was sure - it was not father. It proved to be, however, and although he passed with - nothing worse than a glare, I knew I was in more trouble. - </p> - <p> - At last we reached the bench again, and I said good night. Our relations - continued business-like to the last. He said: - </p> - <p> - "Good night, little authoress, and let's have some more talks." - </p> - <p> - "I'm afraid I've bored you," I said. - </p> - <p> - "Bored me!" he said. "I haven't spent such an evening for years!" - </p> - <p> - The family acted perfectly absurd about it. Seeing that they were going to - make a fuss, I refused to say with whom I had been walking. You'd have - thought I had committed a crime. - </p> - <p> - "It has come to this, Barbara," mother said, pacing the floor. "You cannot - be trusted out of our sight. Where do you meet all these men? If this is - how things are now, what will it be when given your liberty?" - </p> - <p> - Well, it is to painful to record. I was told not to leave the place for - three days, although allowed the boat-house. And of course Sis had to - chime in that she'd heard a rumor I had run away and got married, and - although of course she knew it wasn't true, owing to no time to do so, - still where there was smoke there was fire. - </p> - <p> - But I felt that their confidence in me was going, and that night, after - all were in the land of dreams, I took that wretched suit of clothes and - so on to the boathouse, and hid them in the rafters upstairs. - </p> - <p> - I come now to the strange event of the next day, and its sequel. - </p> - <p> - The Patten place and ours are close together, and no other house near. - Mother had been very cool about the Pattens, owing to nobody knowing them - that we knew. Although I must say they had the most interesting people all - the time, and Sis was crazy to call and meet some of them. - </p> - <p> - Jane came that day to visit her aunt, and she ran down to see me first - thing. - </p> - <p> - "Come and have a ride," she said. "I've got the runabout, and after that - we'll bathe and have a real time." - </p> - <p> - But I shook my head. - </p> - <p> - "I'm a prisoner, Jane," I said. - </p> - <p> - "Honestly! Is it the play, or something else?" - </p> - <p> - "Something else, Jane," I said. "I can tell you nothing more. I am simply - in trouble, as usual." - </p> - <p> - "But why make you a prisoner, unless——" She stopped suddenly - and stared at me. - </p> - <p> - "He has claimed you!" she said. "He is here, somewhere about this place, - and now, having had time to think it over, you do not want to go to him. - Don't deny it. I see it in your face. Oh, Bab, my heart aches for you." - </p> - <p> - It sounded so like a play that I kept it up. Alas, with what results! - </p> - <p> - "What else can I do, Jane?" I said. - </p> - <p> - "You can refuse, if you do not love him. Oh Bab, I did not say it before, - thinking you loved him. But no man who wears clothes like those could ever - win my heart. At least, not permanently." - </p> - <p> - Well, she did most of the talking. She had finished the bath towel, which - was a large size, after all, and monogrammed, and she made me promise - never to let my husband use it. When she went away she left it with me, - and I carried it out and put it on the rafters, with the other things—I - seemed to be getting more to hide every day. - </p> - <p> - Things went all wrong the next day. Sis was in a bad temper, and as much - as said I was flirting with Carter Brooks, although she never intends to - marry him herself, owing to his not having money and never having asked - her. - </p> - <p> - I spent the morning in fixing up a studio in the boat-house, and felt - better by noon. I took two boards on trestles and made a desk, and brought - a dictionary and some pens and ink out. I use a dictionary because now and - then I am uncertain how to spell a word. - </p> - <p> - Events now moved swiftly and terribly. I did not do much work, being - exhausted by my efforts to fix up the studio, and besides, feeling that - nothing much was worth while when one's family did not and never would - understand. At eleven o'clock Sis and Carter and Jane and some others went - in bathing from our dock. Jane called up to me, but I pretended not to - hear. They had a good time judging by the noise, although I should think - Jane would cover her arms and neck in the water, being very thin. Legs one - can do nothing with, although I should think stripes going around would - help. But arms can have sleeves. - </p> - <p> - However—the people next door went in too, and I thrilled to the core - when Mr. Beecher left the bath-house and went down to the beech. What a - physique! What shoulders, all brown and muscular! And to think that, - strong as they were, they wrote the tender love scenes of his plays. - Strong and tender—what descriptive words they are! It was then that - I saw he had been vaccinated twice. - </p> - <p> - To resume. All the Pattens went in, and a new girl with them, in a one - piece suit. I do not deny that she was pretty. I only say that she was not - modest, and that the way she stood on the Patten's dock and posed for Mr. - Beecher's benefit was unnecessary and well, not respectable. - </p> - <p> - She was nothing to me, nor I to her. But I watched her closely. I confess - that I was interested in Mr. Beecher. Why not? He was a public character, - and entitled to respect. Nay, even to love. But I maintain and will to my - dying day, that such love is different from that ordinarily born to the - other sex, and a thing to be proud of. - </p> - <p> - Well, I was seeing a drama and did not even know it. After the rest had - gone, Mr. Patten came to the door into Mr. Beecher's room in the - bath-house—they are all in a row, with doors opening on the sand—and - he had a box in his hand. He looked around, and no one was looking except - me, and he did not see me. He looked very fierce and glum, and shortly - after he carried in a chair and a folding card table. I thought this was - very strange, but imagine how I felt when he came out carrying Mr. - Beecher's clothes! He brought them all, going on his tiptoes and watching - every minute. I felt like screaming. - </p> - <p> - However, I considered that it was a practical joke, and I am no spoil - sport. So I sat still and waited. They stayed in the water a long time, - and the girl with the figure was always crawling out on the dock and then - diving in to show off. Leila and the rest got sick of her actions and came - in to lunch. They called up to me, but I said I was not hungry. - </p> - <p> - "I don't know what's come over Bab," I heard Sis say to Carter Brooks. - "She's crazy, I think." - </p> - <p> - "She's seventeen," he said. "That's all. They get over it mostly, but she - has it hard." - </p> - <p> - I loathed him. - </p> - <p> - Pretty soon the other crowd came up, and I could see every one knew the - joke but Mr. Beecher. They all scuttled into their doorways, and Mr. - Patten waited till Mr. Beecher was inside and had thrown out the shirt of - his bathing suit. Then he locked the door from the outside. - </p> - <p> - There was a silence for a minute. Then Mr. Beecher said in a terrible - voice. - </p> - <p> - "So that's the game, is it?" - </p> - <p> - "Now listen, Reg," Mr. Patten said, in a soothing voice. "I've tried - everything but force, and now I'm driven to that. I've got to have that - third act. The company's got the first two acts well under way, and I'm - getting wires about every hour. I've got to have that script." - </p> - <p> - "You go to Hell!" said Mr. Beecher. You could hear him plainly through the - window, high up in the wall. And although I do not approve of an oath, - there are times when it eases the tortured soul. - </p> - <p> - "Now be reasonable, Reg," Mr. Patten pleaded. "I've put a fortune in this - thing, and you're lying down on the job. You could do it in four hours if - you'd put your mind to it." - </p> - <p> - There was no answer to this. And he went on: - </p> - <p> - "I'll send out food or anything. But nothing to drink. There's champagne - on the ice for you when you've finished, however. And you'll find pens and - ink and paper on the table." - </p> - <p> - The answer to this was Mr. Beecher's full weight against the door. But it - held, even against the full force of his fine physic. - </p> - <p> - "Even if you do break it open," Mr. Patten said, "you can't go very far - the way you are. Now be a good fellow, and let's get this thing done. It's - for your good as well as mine. You'll make a fortune out of it." - </p> - <p> - Then he went into his own door, and soon came out, looking like a - gentleman, unless one knew, as I did, that he was a whited sepulcher. - </p> - <p> - How long I sat there, paralyzed with emotion, I do not know. Hannah came - out and roused me from my trance of grief. She is a kindly soul, although - too afraid of mother to be helpful. - </p> - <p> - "Come in like a good girl, Miss Bab," she said. "There's that fruit salad - that cook prides herself on, and I'll ask her to brown a bit of sweetbread - for you." - </p> - <p> - "Hannah," I said in a low voice, "there is a crime being committed in this - neighborhood, and you talk to me of food." - </p> - <p> - "Good gracious, Miss Bab!" - </p> - <p> - "I cannot tell you any more than that, Hannah," I said gently, "because it - is only being done now, and I cannot make up my mind about it. But of - course I do not want any food." - </p> - <p> - As I say, I was perfectly gentle with her, and I do not understand why she - burst into tears and went away. - </p> - <p> - I sat and thought it all over. I could not leave, under the circumstances. - But yet, what was I to do? It was hardly a police matter, being between - friends, as one may say, and yet I simply could not bare to leave my ideal - there in that damp bath-house without either food or, as one may say, - raiment. - </p> - <p> - About the middle of the afternoon it occurred to me to try to find a key - for the lock of the bath-house. I therefore left my studio and proceeded - to the house. I passed close by the fatal building, but there was no sound - from it. - </p> - <p> - I found a number of trunk-keys in a drawer in the library, and was about - to escape with them, when father came in. He gave me a long look, and - said: - </p> - <p> - "Bee still buzzing?" - </p> - <p> - I had hoped for some understanding from him, but my spirits fell at this - speech. - </p> - <p> - "I am still working, father," I said, in a firm if nervous tone. "I am not - doing as good work as I would if things were different, but—I am at - least content, if not happy." - </p> - <p> - He stared at me, and then came over to me. - </p> - <p> - "Put out your tongue," he said. - </p> - <p> - Even against this crowning infamy I was silent. - </p> - <p> - "That's all right," he said. "Now see here, Chicken, get into your riding - togs and we'll order the horses. I don't intend to let this play-acting - upset your health." - </p> - <p> - But I refused. "Unless, of course, you insist," I finished. He only shook - his head, however, and left the room. I felt that I had lost my last - friend. - </p> - <p> - I did not try the keys myself, but instead stood off a short distance and - threw them through the window. I learned later that they struck Mr. - Beecher on the head. Not knowing, of course, that I had flung them, and - that my reason was pure friendliness and idealism, he threw them out again - with a violent exclamation. They fell at my feet, and lay there, useless, - rejected, tragic. - </p> - <p> - At last I summoned courage to speak. - </p> - <p> - "Can't I do something to help?" I said, in a quaking voice, to the window. - </p> - <p> - There was no answer, but I could hear a pen scratching on paper. - </p> - <p> - "I do so want to help you," I said, in a louder tone. - </p> - <p> - "Go, away" said his voice, rather abstracted than angry. - </p> - <p> - "May I try the keys?" I asked. Be still, my heart! For the scratching had - ceased. - </p> - <p> - "Who's that?" asked the beloved voice. I say 'beloved' because an ideal is - always beloved. The voice was beloved, but sharp. - </p> - <p> - "It's me." - </p> - <p> - I heard him mutter something, and I think he came to the door. - </p> - <p> - "Look here," he said. "Go away. Do you understand? I want to work. And - don't come near here again until seven o'clock." - </p> - <p> - "Very well," I said faintly. - </p> - <p> - "And then come without fail," he said. - </p> - <p> - "Yes, Mr. Beecher," I replied. How commanding he was! Strong but tender! - </p> - <p> - "And if anyone comes around making a noise, before that, you shoot them - for me, will you?" - </p> - <p> - "SHOOT them?" - </p> - <p> - "Drive them off, or use a bean-shooter. Anything. But don't yell at them. - It distracts me." - </p> - <p> - It was a sacred trust. I, and only I, stood between him and his MAGNUM - OPUS. I sat down on the steps of our bath-house, and took up my vigil. - </p> - <p> - It was about five o'clock when I heard Jane approaching. I knew it was - Jane, because she always wears tight shoes, and limps when unobserved. - Although having the reputation of the smallest foot of any girl in our set - in the city, I prefer comfort and ease, unhampered by heals—French - or otherwise. No man will ever marry a girl because she wears a small - shoe, and catches her heals in holes in the boardwalk, and has to soak her - feet at night before she can sleep. However—— - </p> - <p> - Jane came on, and found me crouched on the doorstep, in a lowly attitude, - and holding my finger to my lips. - </p> - <p> - She stopped and stared at me. - </p> - <p> - "Hello," she said. "What do you think you are? A statue?" - </p> - <p> - "Hush, Jane," I said, in a low tone. "I can only ask you to be quiet and - speak in whispers. I cannot give the reason." - </p> - <p> - "Good heavens!" she whispered. "What has happened, Bab?" - </p> - <p> - "It is happening now, but I cannot explain." - </p> - <p> - "WHAT is happening?" - </p> - <p> - "Jane," I whispered, earnestly, "you have known me a long time and I have - always been trustworthy, have I not?" - </p> - <p> - She nodded. She is never exactly pretty, and now she had opened her mouth - and forgot to close it. - </p> - <p> - "Then ask no questions. Trust me, as I am trusting you." It seemed to me - that Mr. Beecher threw his pen at the door, and began to pace the - bath-house. Owing of course to his being in his bare feet, I was not - certain. Jane heard something, too, for she clutched my arm. - </p> - <p> - "Bab," she said, in intense tones, "if you don't explain I shall lose my - mind. I feel now that I am going to shriek." - </p> - <p> - She looked at me searchingly. - </p> - <p> - "Somebody is a prisoner. That's all." - </p> - <p> - It was the truth, was it not? And was there any reasons for Jane Raleigh - to jump to conclusions as she did, and even to repeat later in public that - I had told her that my lover had come for me, and that father had locked - him up to prevent my running away with him, immuring him in the Patten's - bath-house? Certainly not. - </p> - <p> - Just then I saw the boatman coming who looks after our motor boat, and I - tiptoed to him and asked him to go away, and not to come back unless he - had quieter boats and would not whistle. He acted very ugly about it, I - must say, but he went. - </p> - <p> - When I came back, Jane was sitting thinking, with her forehead all - puckered. - </p> - <p> - "What I don't understand, Bab," she said, "is, why no noise?" - </p> - <p> - "Because he is writing," I explained. "Although his clothing has been - taken away, he is writing. I don't think I told you, Jane, but that is his - business. He is a writer. And if I tell you his name you will faint with - surprise." - </p> - <p> - She looked at me searchingly. - </p> - <p> - "Locked up—and writing, and his clothing gone! What's he writing, - Bab? His will?" - </p> - <p> - "He is doing his duty to the end, Jane," I said softly. "He is writing the - last act of a play. The company is rehearsing the first two acts, and he - has to get this one ready, though the heavens fall." - </p> - <p> - But to my surprise, she got up and said to me, in a firm voice: - </p> - <p> - "Either you are crazy, Barbara Archibald, or you think I am. You've been - stuffing me for about a week, and I don't believe a word of it. And you'll - apologize to me or I'll never speak to you again." - </p> - <p> - She said this loudly, and then went away, And Mr. Beecher said, through - the door. - </p> - <p> - "What the devil's the row about?" - </p> - <p> - Perhaps my nerves were going, or possibly it was no luncheon and probably - no dinner. But I said, just as if he had been an ordinary person: - </p> - <p> - "Go on and write and get through. I can't stew on these steps all day." - </p> - <p> - "I thought you were an amiable child." - </p> - <p> - "I'm not amiable and I'm not a child." - </p> - <p> - "Don't spoil your pretty face with frowns." - </p> - <p> - "It's MY face. And you can't see it anyhow," I replied, venting in - feminine fashion, my anger at Jane on the nearest object. - </p> - <p> - "Look here," he said, through the door, "you've been my good angel. I'm - doing more work than I've done in two months, although it was a dirty, - low-down way to make me do it. You're not going back on me now, are you?" - </p> - <p> - Well, I was mollified, as who would not be? So I said: - </p> - <p> - "Well?" - </p> - <p> - "What did Patten do with my clothes?" - </p> - <p> - "He took them with him." He was silent, except for a muttered word. - </p> - <p> - "You might throw those keys back again," he said. "Let me know first, - however. You're the most accurate thrower I've ever seen." - </p> - <p> - So I threw them through the window and I believe hit the ink bottle. But - no matter. And he tried them, but none availed. - </p> - <p> - So he gave up, and went back to work, having saved enough ink to finish - with. But a few minutes later he called to me again, and I moved to the - doorstep, where I sat listening, while apparently admiring the sea. He - explained that having been thus forced, he had almost finished the last - act, and it was a corker. And he said if he had his clothes and some - money, and a key to get out, he'd go right back to town with it and put it - in rehearsal. And at the same time he would give the Pattens something to - worry about over night. Because, play or no play, it was a rotten thing to - lock a man in a bath-house and take his clothes away. - </p> - <p> - "But of course I can't get my clothes," he said. "They'll take cussed good - care of that. And there's the key too. We're up against it, little - sister." - </p> - <p> - Although excited by his calling me thus, I retained my faculties, and - said: - </p> - <p> - "I have a suit of clothes you can have." - </p> - <p> - "Thanks awfully," he said. "But from the slight acquaintance we have had, - I don't believe they would fit me." - </p> - <p> - "Gentleman's clothes," I said frigidly. - </p> - <p> - "You have?" - </p> - <p> - "In my studio," I said. "I can bring them, if you like. They look quite - good, although creased." - </p> - <p> - "You know" he said, after a moment's silence, "I can't quite believe this - is really happening to me! Go and bring the suit of clothes, and—you - don't happen to have a cigar, I suppose?" - </p> - <p> - "I have a large box of cigarettes." - </p> - <p> - "It is true," I heard him say through the door. "It is all true. I am - here, locked in. The play is almost done. And a very young lady on the - doorstep is offering me a suit of clothes and tobacco. I pinch myself. I - am awake." - </p> - <p> - Alas! Mingled with my joy at serving my ideal there was also grief. My - idle had feet of clay. He was a slave, like the rest of us, to his body. - He required clothes and tobacco. I felt that, before long, he might even - ask for an apple, or something to stay the pangs of hunger. This I felt I - could not bare. - </p> - <p> - Perhaps I would better pass over quickly the events of the next hour. I - got the suit and the cigarettes, and even Jane's bath towel, and threw - them in to him. Also I believe he took a shower, as I heard the water - running, At about seven o'clock he said he had finished the play. He put - on the clothes which he observed almost fitted him, although gayer than he - usually wore, and said that if I would give him a hair pin he thought he - could pick the lock. But he did not succeed. - </p> - <p> - Being now dressed, however, he drew a chair to the window and we talked - together. It seemed like a dream that I should be there, on such intimate - terms with a great playwright, who had just, even if under compulsion, - finished a last act, I bared my very soul to him, such as about resembling - Julia Marlowe, and no one understanding my craving to achieve a place in - the world of art. We were once interrupted by Hannah looking for me for - dinner. But I hid in a bath-house, and she went away. - </p> - <p> - What was food to me compared with such a conversation? - </p> - <p> - When Hannah had disappeared, he said suddenly: - </p> - <p> - "It's rather unusual, isn't it, your having a suit of clothes and - everything in your—er—studio?" - </p> - <p> - But I did not explain fully, merely saving that it was a painful story. - </p> - <p> - At half past seven I saw mother on the veranda looking for me, and I - ducked out of sight, I was by this time very hungry, although I did not - like to mention the fact, But Mr. Beecher made a suggestion, which was - this: that the Pattens were evidently going to let him starve until he got - through work, and that he would see them in perdition before he would be - the butt for their funny remarks when they freed him. He therefore tried - to escape out the window, but stuck fast, and finally gave it up. - </p> - <p> - At last he said: - </p> - <p> - "Look here, you're a curious child, but a nervy one. How'd you like to see - if you can get the key? If you do we'll go to a hotel and have a real - meal, and we can talk about your career." - </p> - <p> - Although quivering with terror, I consented. How could I do otherwise, - with such a prospect? For now I began to see that all other emotions - previously felt were as nothing to this one. I confess, without shame, - that I felt the stirring of the tender passion in my breast. Ah me, that - it should have died ere it had hardly lived! - </p> - <p> - "Where is the key?" I asked, in a rapt but anxious tone. - </p> - <p> - He thought a while. - </p> - <p> - "Generally," he said, "it hangs on a nail at the back entry. But the - chances are that Patten took it up to his room this time, for safety, - You'd know it if you saw it. It has some buttons off somebody's bathing - suit tied to it." - </p> - <p> - Here it was necessary to hide again, as father came stocking out, calling - me in an angry tone. But shortly after-wards I was on my way to the - Patten's house, on shaking knees. It was by now twilight, that beautiful - period of romance, although the dinner hour also. Through the dusk I sped, - toward what? I knew not. - </p> - <p> - The Pattens and the one-piece lady were at dinner, and having a very good - time, in spite of having locked a guest in the bath-house. Being used to - servants and prowling around, since at one time when younger I had a habit - of taking things from the pantry, I was quickly able to see that the key - was not in the entry. I therefore went around to the front door and went - in, being prepared, if discovered, to say that someone was in their - bath-house and they ought to know it. But I was not heard among their - sounds of revelry, and was able to proceed upstairs, which I did. - </p> - <p> - But not having asked which was Mr. Patten's room, I was at a loss and - almost discovered by a maid who was turning down the beds—much too - early, also, and not allowed in the best houses until nine-thirty, since - otherwise the rooms look undressed and informal. - </p> - <p> - I had but time to duck into another chamber, and from there to a closet. - </p> - <h3> - I REMAINED IN THAT CLOSET ALL NIGHT. - </h3> - <p> - I will explain. No sooner had the maid gone than a woman came into the - room and closed the door. I heard her moving around and I suddenly felt - that she was going to bed, and might get her robe de nuit out of the - closet. I was petrified. But it seems, while she really WAS undressing at - that early hour, the maid had laid her night clothes out, and I was saved. - </p> - <p> - Very soon a knock came to the door, and somebody came in, like Mrs. - Patten's voice and said: "You're not going to bed, surely!" - </p> - <p> - "I'm going to pretend to have a sick headache," said the other person, and - I knew it was the one-piece lady. "He's going to come back in a frenzy, - and he'll take it out on me, unless I'm prepared." - </p> - <p> - "Poor Reggie!" said Mrs. Patten, "To think of him locked in there alone, - and no clothes or anything. It's too funny for words." - </p> - <p> - "You're not married to him." - </p> - <p> - My heart stopped beating. Was SHE married to him? She was indeed. My dream - was over. And the worst part of it was that for a married man I had done - without food or exercise and now stood in a hot closet in danger of a - terrible fuss. - </p> - <p> - "No, thank heaven!" said Mrs. Patten. "But it was the only way to make him - work. He is a lazy dog. But don't worry. We'll feed him before he sees - you. He's always rather tractable after he's fed." - </p> - <p> - Were ALL my dreams to go? Would they leave nothing to my shattered - illusions? Alas, no. - </p> - <p> - "Jolly him a little, too," said——can I write it?—Mrs. - Beecher. "Tell him he's the greatest thing in the world. That will help - some. He's vain, you know, awfully vain. I expect he's written a lot of - piffle." - </p> - <p> - Had they listened they would have heard a low, dry sob, wrung from my - tortured heart. But Mrs. Beecher had started a vibrator, and my anguished - cry was lost. - </p> - <p> - "Well," said Mrs. Patten, "Will has gone down to let him out, I expect - he'll attack him. He's got a vile temper. I'll sit with you till he comes - back, if you don't mind. I'm feeling nervous." - </p> - <p> - It was indeed painful to recall the next half hour. I must tell the truth - however. They discussed us, especially mother, who had not called. They - said that we thought we were the whole summer colony, although every one - was afraid of mother's tongue, and nobody would marry Leila, except Carter - Brooks, and he was poor and no prospects. And that I was an incorrigible, - and carried on something ghastly, and was going to be put in a convent. I - became justly furious and was about to step out and tell them a few plain - facts, when somebody hammered at the door and then came in. It was Mr. - Patten. - </p> - <p> - "He's gone!" he said. - </p> - <p> - "Well, he won't go far, in bathing trunks," said Mrs. Beecher. - </p> - <p> - "That's just it. His bathing trunks are there." - </p> - <p> - "Well, he won't go far without them!" - </p> - <p> - "He's gone so far I can't locate him." - </p> - <p> - I heard Mrs. Beecher get up. - </p> - <p> - "Are you in earnest, Will?" she said. "Do you mean that he has gone - without a stitch of clothes, and can't be found?" - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Patten gave a sort of screech. - </p> - <p> - "You don't think—oh Will, he's so temperamental. You don't think - he's drowned himself?" - </p> - <p> - "No such luck," said Mrs. Beecher, in a cold tone. I hated her for it. - True, he had deceived me. He was not as I had thought him. In our two - conversations he had not mentioned his wife, leaving me to believe him - free to love "where he listed," as the poet says. - </p> - <p> - "There are a few clues," said Mr. Patten. "He got out by means of a wire - hairpin, for one thing. And he took the manuscript with him, which he'd - hardly have done if he meant to drown himself. Or even if, as we fear, he - had no pockets. He has smoked a lot of cigarettes out of a candy box, - which I did not supply him, and he left behind a bath towel that does not, - I think, belong to us." - </p> - <p> - "I should think he would have worn it," said Mrs. Beecher, in a scornful - tone. - </p> - <p> - "Here's the bath towel," Mr. Patten went on. "You may recognize the - initials. I don't." - </p> - <p> - "B. P. A.," said Mrs. Beecher. "Look here, don't they call that—that - flibbertigibbet next door 'Barbara'?" - </p> - <p> - "The little devil!" said Mr. Patten, in a raging tone. "She let him out, - and of course he's done no work on the play or anything. I'd like to choke - her." - </p> - <p> - Nobody spoke then, and my heart beat fast and hard. I leave it to anybody, - how they'd like to be shut in a closet and threatened with a violent death - from without. Would or would they not ever be the same person afterwords? - </p> - <p> - "I'll tell you what I'd do," said the Beecher woman. "I'd climb up the - back of father, next door, and tell him what his little daughter has done, - because I know she's mixed up in it, towel or no towel. Reg is always - sappy when they're seventeen. And she's been looking moon-eyed at him for - days." - </p> - <p> - Well, the Pattens went away, and Mrs. Beecher manicured her nails,—I - could hear her filing them—and sang around and was not much - concerned, although for all she knew he was in the briny deep, a corpse. - How true it is that "the paths of glory lead but to the grave." - </p> - <p> - I got very tired and much hotter, and I sat down on the floor. After what - seemed like hours, Mrs. Patten came back, all breathless, and she said: - </p> - <p> - "The girl's gone too, Clare." - </p> - <p> - "What girl?" - </p> - <p> - "Next door. If you want excitement, they've got it. The mother is in - hysterics and there's a party searching the beach for her body. The truth - is, of course, if that towel means anything." - </p> - <p> - "That Reg has run away with her, of course," said Mrs. Beecher, in a - resigned tone. "I wish he would grow up and learn something. He's becoming - a nuisance. And when there are so many interesting people to run away - with, to choose that chit!" - </p> - <p> - Yes, she said that, And in my retreat I could but sit and listen, and of - course perspire, which I did freely. Mrs. Patten went away, after talking - about the "scandal" for some time. And I sat and thought of the beach - being searched for my body, a thought which filled my eyes with tears of - pity for what might have been, I still hoped Mrs. Beecher would go to bed, - but she did not. Through the key hole I could see her with a book, - reading, and not caring at all that Mr. Beecher's body, and mine too, - might be washing about in the cruel sea, or have eloped to New York. - </p> - <p> - I loathed her. - </p> - <p> - At last I must have slept, for a bell rang, and there I was still in the - closet, and she was answering it. - </p> - <p> - "Arrested?" she said, "Well, I should think he'd better be, if what you - say about clothing is true.... Well, then—what's he arrested for?... - Oh, kidnapping! Well, if I'm any judge, they ought to arrest the Archibald - girl for kidnapping HIM. No, don't bother me with it tonight. I'll try to - read myself to sleep." - </p> - <p> - So this was marriage! Did she flee to her unjustly accused husband's side - and comfort him? Not she. She went to bed. - </p> - <p> - At daylight, being about smothered, I opened the closet door and drew a - breath of fresh air. Also I looked at her, and she was asleep, with her - hair in patent wavers. Ye gods! - </p> - <p> - The wife of Reginald Beecher thus to distort her looks at night! I could - not bare it. - </p> - <p> - I averted my eyes, and on my tiptoes made for the window. - </p> - <p> - My sufferings were over. In a short time I had slid down and was making my - way through the dewy morn toward my home. Before the sun was up, or more - than starting, I had climbed to my casement by means of a wire trellis, - and put on my 'robe de nuit'. But before I settled to sleep I went to the - pantry and there satisfied the pangs of hunger having had nothing since - breakfast the day before. All the lights seemed to be on, on the lower - floor, which I considered wasteful of Tanney, the butler. But being - sleepy, gave it no further thought. And so to bed, as the great English - dairy-keeper, Pepys, had said in his dairy. - </p> - <p> - It seemed but a few moments later that I heard a scream, and opening my - eyes, saw Leila in the doorway. She screamed again, and mother came and - stood beside her. Although very drowsy, I saw that they still wore their - dinner clothes. - </p> - <p> - They stared as if transfixed, and then mother gave a low moan, and said to - Sis: - </p> - <p> - "That unfortunate man has been in jail all night." - </p> - <p> - And Sis said: "Jane Raleigh is crazy. That's all." Then they looked at me, - and mother burst into tears. But Sis said: - </p> - <p> - "You little imp! Don't tell me you've been in that bed all night. I KNOW - BETTER." - </p> - <p> - I closed my eyes. They were not of the understanding sort, and never would - be. - </p> - <p> - "If that's the way you feel I shall tell you nothing," I said wearily. - </p> - <p> - "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" mother said, in a slow and dreadful voice. - </p> - <p> - Well, I saw then that a part of the truth must be disclosed, especially - since she has for some time considered sending me to a convent, although - without cause, and has not done so for fear of my taking the veil. So I - told her this. I said: - </p> - <p> - "I spent the night shut in a clothes closet, but where is my secret. I - cannot tell you." - </p> - <p> - "Barbara! You MUST tell me." - </p> - <p> - "It is not my secret alone, mother." - </p> - <p> - She caught at the foot of the bed. - </p> - <p> - "Who was shut with you in that closet?" she demanded in a shaking voice. - "Barbara, there is another wretched man in all this. It could not have - been Mr. Beecher, because he has been in the station house all night." - </p> - <p> - I sat up, leaning on one elbow, and looked at her earnestly. - </p> - <p> - "Mother" I said, "you have done enough damage, interfering with careers—not - only mine, but another's imperiled now by not having a last act. I can - tell you no more, except"—here my voice took on a deep and intense - fiber—"that I have done nothing to be ashamed of, although - unconventional." - </p> - <p> - Mother put her hands to her face, and emitted a low, despairing cry. - </p> - <p> - "Come," Leila said to her, as to a troubled child. "Come, and Hannah can - use the vibrator on your spine." - </p> - <p> - So she went, but before she left she said: - </p> - <p> - "Barbara, if you will only promise to be a good girl, and give us a chance - to live this scandal down, I will give you anything you ask for." - </p> - <p> - "Mother!" Sis said, in an angry tone. - </p> - <p> - "What can I do, Leila?" mother said. "The girl is attractive, and probably - men will always be following her and making trouble. Think of last winter. - I know it is bribery, but it is better than scandal." - </p> - <p> - "I want nothing, mother," I said, in a low, heart stricken tone, "save to - be allowed to live my own life and to have a career." - </p> - <p> - "My heavens," mother said, "if I hear that word again, I'll go crazy." - </p> - <p> - So she went away, and Sis came over and looked down at me. - </p> - <p> - "Well!" she said. "What's happened anyhow? Of course you've been up to - some mischief, but I don't suppose anybody will ever know the truth of it. - I was hoping you'd make it this time and get married, and stop worrying - us." - </p> - <p> - "Go away, please, and let me sleep," I said. "As to getting married, under - no circumstances did I expect to marry him. He has a wife already. - Personally, I think she's a total loss. She wears patent wavers at night, - and sleeps with her mouth open. But who am I to interfere with the - marriage bond? I never have and never will." - </p> - <p> - But Sis only gave me a wild look and went away. - </p> - <p> - This, dear readers and schoolmates, is the true story of my meeting with - and parting from Reginald Beecher, the playwright. Whatever the papers may - say, it is not true, except the fact that he was recognized by Jane - Raleigh, who knew the suit he wore, when in the act of pawning his ring to - get money to escape from his captors (I. E., The Pattens). It was the - necktie which struck her first, and also his guilty expression. As I was - missing by that time, Jane put two and two together and made an elopement. - </p> - <p> - Sometimes I sit and think things over, my fingers wandering "over the - ivory keys" of the typewriter they gave me to promise not to elope with - anybody—although such a thing is far from my mind—and the - world seems a cruel and unjust place, especially to those with ambition. - </p> - <p> - For Reginald Beecher is no longer my ideal, my night of the pen. I will - tell about that in a few words. - </p> - <p> - Jane Raleigh and I went to a matinee late in September before returning to - our institutions of learning. Jane clutched my arm as we looked at our - programs and pointed to something. - </p> - <p> - How my heart beat! For whatever had come between us, I was still loyal to - him. - </p> - <p> - This was a new play by him! - </p> - <p> - "Ah," my heart seemed to say, "now again you will hear his dear words, - although spoken by alien mouths. - </p> - <p> - "The love scenes——" - </p> - <p> - I could not finish. Although married and forever beyond me, I could still - hear his manly tones as issuing from the door of the Bath-house. I - thrilled with excitement. As the curtain rose I closed my eyes in ecstasy. - </p> - <p> - "Bab!" Jane said, in a quavering tone. - </p> - <p> - I looked. What did I see? The bath-house itself, the very one. And as I - stared I saw a girl, wearing her hair as I wear mine, cross the stage with - a bunch of keys in her hand, and say to the bath-house door. - </p> - <p> - "Can't I do something to help? I do so want to help you." - </p> - <h3> - MY VERY WORDS. - </h3> - <p> - And a voice from beyond the bath-house door said: - </p> - <p> - "Who's that?" - </p> - <h3> - HIS WORDS. - </h3> - <p> - I could bare no more. Heedless of Jane's protests and anguish, I got up - and went out, into the light of day. My body was bent with misery. Because - at last I knew that, like mother and all the rest, he too, did not - understand me and never would! To him I was but material, the stuff that - plays are made of! - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - And now we know that he never could know, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - And did not understand. - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Kipling. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - Ignoring Jane's observation that the tickets had cost two dollars each, I - gathered up the scattered skeins of my life together, and fled. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER III. HER DIARY: BEING THE DAILY JOURNAL OF THE SUB-DEB - </h2> - <p> - JANUARY 1st. I have today received this diary from home, having come back - a few days early to make up a French condition. - </p> - <p> - Weather, clear and cold. - </p> - <p> - New Year's dinner. Roast chicken (Turkey being very expensive), mashed - turnips, sweet potatoes and mince pie. - </p> - <p> - It is my intention to record in this book the details of my Daily Life, my - thoughts which are to sacred for utterance, and my ambitions. Because who - is there to whom I can speak them? I am surrounded by those who exist for - the mere pleasures of the day, or whose lives are bound up in recitations. - </p> - <p> - For instance, at dinner today, being mostly faculty and a few girls who - live in the far West, the conversation was entirely on buying a phonograph - for dancing because the music teacher has the measles and is quarantined - in the infirmary. And on Miss Everett's cousin, who has written a play. - </p> - <p> - When one looks at Miss Everett, one recognizes that no cousin of hers - could write a play. - </p> - <p> - New Year's resolution—to help someone every day. Today helped - Mademoiselle to put on her rubbers. - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 2ND. Today I wrote my French theme, beginning, "Les hommes songent - moins a leur ame qua leur corps." Mademoiselle sent for me and objected, - saying that it was not a theme for a young girl, and that I must write a - new one, on the subject of pears. How is one to develop in this - atmosphere? - </p> - <p> - Some of the girls are coming back. They straggle in, and put the favors - they got at cotillions on the dresser, and their holiday gifts, and each - one relates some amorous experience while at home. Dear Diary, is there - something wrong with me, that love has passed me by? I have had offers of - devotion but none that appealed to me, being mostly either too young or - not attracting me by physical charm. I am not cold, although frequently - accused of it, Beneath my frigid exterior beats a warm heart. I intend to - be honest in this diary, and so I admit it. But, except for passing - fancies—one being, alas, for a married man—I remain without - the divine passion. - </p> - <p> - What must it be to thrill at the approach of the loved form? To harken to - each ring of the telephone bell, in the hope that, if it is not the - idolized voice, it is at least a message from it? To waken in the morning - and, looking around the familiar room, to muse: "Today I may see him—on - the way to the post office, or rushing past in his racing car." And to - know that at the same moment HE to is musing: "Today I may see her, as she - exercises herself at basket ball, or mounts her horse for a daily canter!" - </p> - <p> - Although I have no horse. The school does not care for them, considering - walking the best exercise. - </p> - <p> - Have flunked the French again, Mademoiselle not feeling well, and marking - off for the smallest thing. - </p> - <p> - Today's helpful deed—assisted one of the younger girls with her - spelling. - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 4TH. Miss Everett's cousin's play is coming here. The school is to - have free tickets, as they are "trying it on the dog." Which means seeing - if it is good enough for the large cities. - </p> - <p> - We have decided, if Everett marks us well in English from now on, to - applaud it, but if she is unpleasant, to sit still and show no interest. - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 5TH, 6TH, 7TH, 8TH. Bad weather, which is depressing to one of my - temperament. Also boil on nose. - </p> - <p> - A few helpful deeds—nothing worth putting down. - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 9TH. Boil cut. - </p> - <p> - Again I can face my image in my mirror, and not shrink. - </p> - <p> - Mademoiselle is sick and no French. MISERICORDE! - </p> - <p> - Helpful deed—sent Mademoiselle some fudge, but this school does not - encourage kindness. Reprimanded for cooking in room. School sympathizes - with me. We will go to Miss Everett's cousin's play, but we will damn it - with faint praise. - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 10TH. I have written this date, and now I sit back and regard it. - As it is impressed on this white paper, so, Dear Diary, is it written on - my soul. To others it may be but the tenth of January. To me it is the day - of days. Oh, tenth of January! Oh, Monday. Oh, day of my awakening! - </p> - <p> - It is now late at night, and around me my schoolmates are sleeping the - sleep of the young and heart free. Lights being off, I am writing by the - faint luminosity of a candle. Propped up in bed, my mackinaw coat over my - 'robe de nuit' for warmth, I sit and dream. And as I dream I still hear in - my ears his final words: "My darling. My woman!" - </p> - <p> - How wonderful to have them said to one night after night, the while being - in his embrace, his tender arms around one! I refer to the heroine in the - play, to whom he says the above rapturous words. - </p> - <p> - Coming home from the theater tonight, still dazed with the revelation of - what I am capable of, once aroused, I asked Miss Everett if her cousin had - said anything about Mr. Egleston being in love with the leading character. - She observed: - </p> - <p> - "No. But he may be. She is very pretty." - </p> - <p> - "Possibly," I remarked. "But I should like to see her in the morning, when - she gets up." - </p> - <p> - All the girls were perfectly mad about Mr. Egleston, although pretending - merely to admire his Art. But I am being honest, as I agreed at the start, - and now I know, as I sit here with the soft, although chilly breezes of - the night blowing on my hot brow, now I know that this thing that has come - to me is Love. Moreover, it is the Love of my Life. He will never know it, - but I am his. He is exactly my ideal, strong and tall and passionate. And - clever, too. He said some awfully clever things. - </p> - <p> - I believe that he saw me. He looked in my direction. But what does it - matter? I am small, insignificant. He probably thinks me a mere child, - although seventeen. - </p> - <p> - What matters, oh Diary, is that I am at last in Love. It is hopeless. Just - now, when I had written that word, I buried my face in my hands. There is - no hope. None. I shall never see him again. He passed out of my life on - the 11:45 train. But I love him. MON DIEU, how I love him! - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 11TH. We are going home. WE ARE GOING HOME. WE ARE GOING HOME. WE - ARE GOING HOME! - </p> - <p> - Mademoiselle has the measles. - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 13TH. The family managed to restrain its ecstasy on seeing me - today. The house is full of people, as they are having a dinner-dance - tonight. Sis had moved into my room, to let one of the visitors have hers, - and she acted in a very unfilial manner when she came home and found me in - it. - </p> - <p> - "Well!" she said. "Expelled at last?" - </p> - <p> - "Not at all," I replied in a lofty manner. "I am here through no fault of - my own. And I'd thank you to have Hannah take your clothes off my bed." - </p> - <p> - She gave me a bitter glance. - </p> - <p> - "I never knew it to fail!" she said. "Just as everything is fixed, and - we're recovering from you're being here for the holidays, you come back - and stir up a lot of trouble. What brought you, anyhow?" - </p> - <p> - "Measles." - </p> - <p> - She snatched up her ball gown. - </p> - <p> - "Very well," she said. "I'll see that you're quarantined, Miss Barbara, - all right. And If you think you're going to slip downstairs tonight after - dinner and WORM yourself into this party, I'll show you." - </p> - <p> - She flounced out, and shortly afterward mother took a minute from the - florist, and came upstairs. - </p> - <p> - "I do hope you are not going to be troublesome, Barbara," she said. "You - are too young to understand, but I want everything to go well tonight, and - Leila ought not to be worried." - </p> - <p> - "Can't I dance a little?" - </p> - <p> - "You can sit on the stairs and watch." She looked fidgety. "I—I'll - send up a nice dinner, and you can put on your dark blue, with a fresh - collar, and—it ought to satisfy you, Barbara, that you are at home - and possibly have brought the measles with you, without making a lot of - fuss. When you come out——" - </p> - <p> - "Oh, very well," I murmured, in a resigned tone. "I don't care enough - about it to want to dance with a lot of souses anyhow." - </p> - <p> - "Barbara!" said mother. - </p> - <p> - "I suppose you have some one on the string for her," I said, with the - abandon of my thwarted hopes. "Well, I hope she gets him. Because if not, - I daresay I shall be kept in the cradle for years to come." - </p> - <p> - "You will come out when you reach a proper age," she said, "if your - impertinence does not kill me off before my time." - </p> - <p> - Dear Diary, I am fond of my mother, and I felt repentant and stricken. - </p> - <p> - So I became more agreeable, although feeling all the time that she does - not and never will understand my temperament. I said: - </p> - <p> - "I don't care about society, and you know it, mother. If you'll keep Leila - out of this room, which isn't much but is my castle while here, I'll - probably go to bed early." - </p> - <p> - "Barbara, sometimes I think you have no affection for your sister." - </p> - <p> - I had agreed to honesty January first, so I replied. - </p> - <p> - "I have, of course, mother. But I am fonder of her while at school than at - home. And I should be a better sister if not condemned to her old things, - including hats which do not suit my type." - </p> - <p> - Mother moved over majestically to the door and shut it. Then she came and - stood over me. - </p> - <p> - "I've come to the conclusion, Barbara," she said, "to appeal to your - better nature. Do you wish Leila to be married and happy?" - </p> - <p> - "I've just said, mother——" - </p> - <p> - "Because a very interesting thing is happening," said mother, trying to - look playful. "I—a chance any girl would jump at." - </p> - <p> - So here I sit, Dear Diary, while there are sounds of revelry below, and - Sis jumps at her chance, which is the Honorable Page Beresford, who is an - Englishman visiting here because he has a weak heart and can't fight. And - father is away on business, and I am all alone. - </p> - <p> - I have been looking for a rash, but no luck. - </p> - <p> - Ah me, how the strains of the orchestra recall that magic night in the - theater when Adrian Egleston looked down into my eyes and although - ostensibly to an actress, said to my beating heart: "My Darling! My - Woman!" - </p> - <p> - 3 A. M. I wonder if I can control my hands to write. - </p> - <p> - In mother's room across the hall I can hear furious voices, and I know - that Leila is begging to have me sent to Switzerland. Let her beg. - Switzerland is not far from England, and in England—— - </p> - <p> - Here I pause to reflect a moment. How is this thing possible? Can I love - members of the other sex? And if such is the case, how can I go on with my - life? Better far to end it now, than to perchance marry one, and find the - other still in my heart. The terrible thought has come to me that I am - fickle. - </p> - <p> - Fickle or polygamous—which? - </p> - <p> - Dear Diary, I have not been a good girl. My New Year's Resolutions have - gone to airy nothing. - </p> - <p> - The way they went was this: I had settled down to a quiet evening, spent - with his beloved picture which I had clipped from a newspaper. (Adrian's. - I had not as yet met the other.) And, as I sat in my chamber, I grew more - and more desolate. I love life, although pessimistic at times. And it - seemed hard that I should be there, in exile, while my sister, only 20 - months older, was jumping at her chance below. - </p> - <p> - At last I decided to try on one of Sis's frocks and see how I looked in - it. I thought, if it looked all right, I might hang over the stairs and - see what I then scornfully termed "His Nibs." Never again shall I so call - him. - </p> - <p> - I got an evening gown from Sis's closet, and it fitted me quite well, - although tight at the waste for me, owing to basketball. It was also too - low, so that when I had got it all hooked about four inches of my lingerie - showed. As it had been hard as anything to hook, I was obliged to take the - scissors and cut off the said lingerie. The result was good, although very - decollete. I have no bones in my neck, or practically so. - </p> - <p> - And now came my moment of temptation. How easy to put my hair up on my - head, and then, by the servant's staircase, make my way to the scene - below! - </p> - <p> - I, however, considered that I looked pale, although mature. I looked at - least nineteen. So I went into Sis's room, which was full of evening wraps - but empty, and put on a touch of rouge. With that and my eyebrows - blackened, I would not have known myself, had I not been certain it was I - and no other. - </p> - <p> - I then made my way down the back stairs. - </p> - <p> - Ah me, Dear Diary, was that but a few hours ago? Is it but a short time - since Mr. Beresford was sitting at my feet, thinking me a debutante, and - staring soulfully into my very heart? Is it but a matter of minutes since - Leila found us there, and in a manner which revealed the true feeling she - has for me, ordered me to go upstairs and take off Maddie Mackenzie's - gown? - </p> - <p> - (Yes, it was not Leila's after all. I had forgotten that Maddie had taken - her room. And except for pulling it somewhat at the waist, I am sure I did - not hurt the old thing.) - </p> - <p> - I shall now go to bed and dream. Of which one I know not. My heart is - full. Romance has come at last into my dull and dreary life. Below, the - revelers have gone. The flowers hang their herbaceous heads. The music has - flowed away into the river of the past. I am alone with my Heart. - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 14TH. How complicated my life grows, Dear Diary! How full and yet - how incomplete! How everything begins and nothing ends! - </p> - <p> - HE is in town. - </p> - <p> - I discovered it at breakfast. I knew I was in for it, and I got down - early, counting on mother breakfasting in bed. I would have felt better if - father had been at home, because he understands somewhat the way they keep - me down. But he was away about an order for shells (not sea; war), and I - was to bare my chiding alone. I had eaten my fruit and cereal, and was - about to begin on sausage, when mother came in, having risen early from - her slumbers to take the decorations to the hospital. - </p> - <p> - "So here you are, wretched child!" she said, giving me one of her coldest - looks. "Barbara, I wonder if you ever think whither you are tending." - </p> - <p> - I ate a sausage. - </p> - <p> - What, Dear Diary, was there to say? - </p> - <p> - "To disobey!" she went on. "To force yourself on the attention of Mr. - Beresford, in a borrowed dress, with your eyelashes blackened and your - face painted——" - </p> - <p> - "I should think, mother," I observed, "that if he wants to marry into this - family, and is not merely being dragged into it, that he ought to see the - worst at the start." She glared, without speaking. "You know," I - continued, "it would be a dreadful thing to have the ceremony performed - and everything too late to back out, and then have ME sprung on him. It - wouldn't be honest, would it?" - </p> - <p> - "Barbara!" she said in a terrible tone. "First disobedience, and now - sarcasm. If your father was only here! I feel so alone and helpless." - </p> - <p> - Her tone cut me to the heart. After all she was my own mother, or at least - maintained so, in spite of numerous questions engendered by our lack of - resemblance, moral as well as physical. But I did not offer to embarrass - her, as she was at that moment poring out her tea. I hid my misery behind - the morning paper, and there I beheld the fated vision. Had I felt any - doubt as to the state of my affections it was settled then. My heart - leaped in my bosom. My face suffused. My hands trembled so that a piece of - sausage slipped from my fork. His picture looked out at me with that well - remembered gaze from the depths of the morning paper! - </p> - <p> - Oh, Adrian, Adrian! - </p> - <p> - Here in the same city as I, looking out over perchance the same newspaper - to perchance the same sun, wondering—ah, what was he wondering? - </p> - <p> - I was not even then, in that first rapture, foolish about him. I knew that - to him I was probably but a tender memory. I knew, too, that he was but - human and probably very conceited. On the other hand, I pride myself on - being a good judge of character, and he carried nobility in every - lineament. Even the obliteration of one eye by the printer could only - hamper but not destroy his dear face. - </p> - <p> - "Barbara," mother said sharply. "I am speaking. Are you being sulky?" - </p> - <p> - "Pardon me, mother," I said in my gentlest tones. "I was but dreaming." - And as she made no reply, but rang the bell viciously, I went on, pursuing - my line of thought. "Mother, were you ever in love?" - </p> - <p> - "Love! What sort of love?" - </p> - <p> - I sat up and stared at her. - </p> - <p> - "Is there more than one sort?" I demanded. - </p> - <p> - "There is a very silly, schoolgirl love," she said, eying me, "that people - outgrow and blush to look back on." - </p> - <p> - "Do you?" - </p> - <p> - "Do I what?" - </p> - <p> - "Do you blush to look back on it?" - </p> - <p> - Mother rose and made a sweeping gesture with her right arm. - </p> - <p> - "I wash my hands of you!" she said. "You are impertinent and indelicate. - At your age I was an innocent child, not troubling with things that did - not concern me. As for love, I had never heard of it until I came out." - </p> - <p> - "Life must have burst on you like an explosion," I observed. "I suppose - you thought that babies——" - </p> - <p> - "Silence!" mother shrieked. And seeing that she persisted in ignoring the - real things of life while in my presence, I went out, clutching the - precious paper to my heart. - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 15TH. I am alone in my boudoir (which is really the old - schoolroom, and used now for a sewing room). - </p> - <p> - My very soul is sick, oh Diary. How can I face the truth? How write it out - for my eyes to see? But I must. For something must be done! The play is - failing. - </p> - <p> - The way I discovered it was this. Yesterday, being short of money, I sold - my amethyst pin to Jane, one of the housemaids, for two dollars, throwing - in a lace collar when she seemed doubtful, as I had a special purpose for - using funds. Had father been at home I could have touched him, but mother - is different. - </p> - <p> - I then went out to buy a frame for his picture, which I had repaired by - drawing in the other eye, although lacking the fire and passionate look of - the original. At the shop I was compelled to show it, to buy a frame to - fit. The clerk was almost overpowered. - </p> - <p> - "Do you know him?" she asked, in a low and throbbing tone. - </p> - <p> - "Not intimately," I replied. - </p> - <p> - "Don't you love the Play?" she said. "I'm crazy about it. I've been back - three times. Parts of it I know off by heart. He's very handsome. That - picture don't do him justice." - </p> - <p> - I gave her a searching glance. Was it possible that, without any - acquaintance with him whatever, she had fallen in love with him? It was - indeed. She showed it in every line of her silly face. - </p> - <p> - I drew myself up haughtily. "I should think it would be very expensive, - going so often," I said, in a cool tone. - </p> - <p> - "Not so very. You see, the play is a failure, and they give us girls - tickets to dress the house. Fill it up, you know. Half the girls in the - store are crazy about Mr. Egleston." - </p> - <p> - My world shuddered about me. What—fail! That beautiful play, ending - "My darling, my woman"? It could not be. Fate would not be cruel. Was - there no appreciation of the best in art? Was it indeed true, as Miss - Everett has complained, although not in these exact words, that the - Theater was only supported now by chorus girls' legs, dancing about in - utter abandon? - </p> - <p> - With an expression of despair on my features, I left the store, carrying - the frame under my arm. - </p> - <p> - One thing is certain. I must see the play again, and judge it with a - critical eye. IF IT IS WORTH SAVING, IT MUST BE SAVED. - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 16TH. Is it only a day since I saw you, Dear Diary? Can so much - have happened in the single lapse of a few hours? I look in my mirror, and - I look much as before, only with perhaps a touch of pallor. Who would not - be pale? - </p> - <p> - I have seen HIM again, and there is no longer any doubt in my heart. Page - Beresford is attractive, and if it were not for circumstances as they are - I would not answer for the consequences. But things ARE as they are. There - is no changing that. And I have read my own heart. - </p> - <p> - I am not fickle. On the contrary, I am true as steal. - </p> - <p> - I have put his picture under my mattress, and have given Jane my gold cuff - pins to say nothing when she makes my bed. And now, with the house full of - people downstairs acting in a flippant and noisy manner, I shall record - how it all happened. - </p> - <p> - My financial condition was not improved this morning, father having not - returned. But I knew that I must see the play, as mentioned above, even if - it became necessary to borrow from Hannah. At last, seeing no other way, I - tried this, but failed. - </p> - <p> - "What for?" she said, in a suspicious way. - </p> - <p> - "I need it terribly, Hannah," I said. - </p> - <p> - "You'd ought to get it from your mother, then, Miss Barbara. The last time - I gave you some you paid it back in postage stamps, and I haven't written - a letter since. They're all stuck together now, and a total loss." - </p> - <p> - "Very well," I said, frigidly. "But the next time you break anything——" - </p> - <p> - "How much do you want?" she asked. - </p> - <p> - I took a quick look at her, and I saw at once that she had decided to lend - it to me and then run and tell mother, beginning, "I think you'd ought to - know, Mrs. Archibald——" - </p> - <p> - "Nothing doing, Hannah," I said, in a most dignified manner. "But I think - you are an old clam, and I don't mind saying so." - </p> - <p> - I was now thrown on my own resources, and very bitter. I seemed to have no - friends, at a time when I needed them most, when I was, as one may say, - "standing with reluctant feet, where the brook and river meet." - </p> - <p> - Tonight I am no longer sick of life, as I was then. My throws of anguish - have departed. But I was then utterly reckless, and even considered - running away and going on the stage myself. - </p> - <p> - I have long desired a career for myself, anyhow. I have a good mind, and - learn easily, and I am not a parasite. The idea of being such has always - been repugnant to me, while the idea of a few dollars at a time doled out - to one of independent mind is galling. And how is one to remember what one - has done with one's allowance, when it is mostly eaten up by small loans, - carfare, stamps, church collection, rose water and glycerin, and other - mild cosmetics, and the additional food necessary when one is still - growing? - </p> - <p> - To resume, Dear Diary; having utterly failed with Hannah, and having - shortly after met Sis on the stairs, I said to her, in a sisterly tone, - intimate rather than fond: - </p> - <p> - "I daresay you can lend me five dollars for a day or so." - </p> - <p> - "I daresay I can. But I won't," was her cruel reply. - </p> - <p> - "Oh, very well," I said briefly. But I could not refrain from making a - grimace at her back, and she saw me in a mirror. - </p> - <p> - "When I think," she said heartlessly, "that that wretched school may be - closed for weeks, I could scream." - </p> - <p> - "Well, scream!" I replied. "You'll scream harder if I've brought the - measles home on me. And if you're laid up, you can say good-bye to the - dishonorable. You've got him tied, maybe," I remarked, "but not thrown as - yet." - </p> - <p> - (A remark I had learned from one of the girls, Trudie Mills, who comes - from Montana.) - </p> - <p> - I was therefore compelled to dispose of my silver napkin ring from school. - Jane was bought up, she said, and I sold it to the cook for fifty cents - and half a mince pie although baked with our own materials. - </p> - <p> - All my fate, therefore, hung on a paltry fifty cents. - </p> - <p> - I was torn with anxiety. Was it enough? Could I, for fifty cents, steal - away from the sordid cares of life, and lose myself in obliviousness, - gazing only it his dear face, listening to his dear and softly modulated - voice, and wondering if, as his eyes swept the audience, they might - perchance light on me and brighten with a momentary gleam in their - unfathomable depths? Only this and nothing more, was my expectation. - </p> - <p> - How different was the reality! - </p> - <p> - Having ascertained that there was a matinee, I departed at an early hour - after luncheon, wearing my blue velvet with my fox furs. White gloves and - white topped shoes completed my outfit, and, my own chapeau showing the - effect of a rainstorm on the way home from church while away at school, I - took a chance on one of Sis's, a perfectly maddening one of rose-colored - velvet. As the pink made me look pale, I added a touch of rouge. - </p> - <p> - I looked fully out, and indeed almost second season. I have a way of - assuming a serious and mature manner, so that I am frequently taken for - older than I really am. Then, taking a few roses left from the - decorations, and thrusting them carelessly into the belt of my coat, I - went out the back door, as Sis was getting ready for some girls to play - bridge, in the front of the house. - </p> - <p> - Had I felt any grief at deceiving my family, the bridge party would have - knocked them. For, as usual, I had not been asked, although playing a good - game myself, and having on more than one occasion won most of the money in - the Upper House at school. - </p> - <p> - I was early at the theater. No one was there, and women were going around - taking covers off the seats. My fifty cents gave me a good seat, from - which I opined, alas, that the shop girl had been right and business was - rotten. But at last, after hours of waiting, the faint tuning of musical - instruments was heard. - </p> - <p> - From that time I lived in a daze. I have never before felt so strange. I - have known and respected the other sex, and indeed once or twice been - kissed by it. But I had remained cold. My pulses had never fluttered. I - was always concerned only with the fear that others had overseen and would - perhaps tell. But now—I did not care who would see, if only Adrian - would put his arms about me. Divine shamelessness! Brave Rapture! For if - one who he could not possibly love, being so close to her in her make-up, - if one who was indeed employed to be made love to, could submit in public - to his embraces, why should not I, who would have died for him? - </p> - <p> - These were my thoughts as the play went on. The hours flew on joyous feet. - When Adrian came to the footlights and looking apparently square at me, - declaimed: "The world owes me a living. I will have it," I almost swooned. - His clothes were worn. He looked hungry and gaunt. But how true that - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - "Rags are royal raiment, when worn for virtue's sake." - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - (I shall stop here and go down to the pantry. I could eat no dinner, being - filled with emotion. But I must keep strong if I am to help Adrian in his - trouble. The mince pie was excellent, but after all pastry does not take - the place of solid food.) - </p> - <p> - LATER: I shall now go on with my recital. As the theater was almost empty, - at the end of Act One I put on the pink hat and left it on as though - absent-minded. There was no one behind me. And, although during act one I - had thought that he perhaps felt my presence, he had not once looked - directly at me. - </p> - <p> - But the hat captured his errant gaze, as one may say. And, after capture, - it remained on my face, so much so that I flushed and a woman sitting near - with a very plain girl in a skunk collar, observed: - </p> - <p> - "Really, it is outrageous." - </p> - <p> - Now came a moment which I thrill even to recollect. For Adrian plucked a - pink rose from a vase—he was in the millionaire's house, and was - starving in the midst of luxury—and held it to his lips. - </p> - <p> - The rose, not the house, of course. Looking over it, he smiled down at me. - </p> - <p> - LATER: It is midnight. I cannot sleep. Perchance he too, is lying awake. I - am sitting at the window in my robe de nuit. Below, mother and Sis have - just come in, and Smith has slammed the door of the car and gone back to - the garage. How puny is the life my family leads! Nothing but eating and - playing, with no higher thoughts. - </p> - <p> - A man has just gone by. For a moment I thought I recognized the footstep. - But no, it was but the night watchman. - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 17TH. Father still away. No money, as mother absolutely refuses on - account of Maddie Mackenzie's gown, which she had to send away to be - repaired. - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 18TH. Father still away. The Hon. sent Sis a huge bunch of orchids - today. She refused me even one. She is always tight with flowers and - candy. - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 19TH. The paper says that Adrian's play is going to close the end - of next week. No business. How can I endure to know that he is suffering, - and that I cannot help, even to the extent of buying one ticket? Matinee - today, and no money. Father still away. - </p> - <p> - I have tried to do a kind deed today, feeling that perhaps it would soften - mother's heart and she would advance my allowance. I offered to manicure - her nails for her, but she refused, saying that as Hannah had done it for - many years, she guessed she could manage now. - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 20TH. Today I did a desperate thing, dear Diary. - </p> - <p> - "The desperate is the wisest course." Butler. - </p> - <p> - It is Sunday. I went to church, and thought things over. What a wonderful - thing it would be if I could save the play! Why should I feel that my sex - is a handicap? - </p> - <p> - The rector preached on "The Opportunities of Women." The Sermon gave me - courage to go on. When he said, "Women today step in where men are afraid - to tread, and bring success out of failure," I felt that it was meant for - me. - </p> - <p> - Had no money for the plate, and mother attempted to smuggle a half dollar - to me. I refused, however, as if I cannot give my own money to the - heathen, I will give none. Mother turned pale, and the man with the plate - gave me a black look. What can he know of my reasons? - </p> - <p> - Beresford lunched with us, and as I discouraged him entirely, he was very - attentive to Sis. Mother is planing a big wedding, and I found Sis in the - store room yesterday looking up mother's wedding veil. - </p> - <p> - No old stuff for me. - </p> - <p> - I guess Beresford is trying to forget that he kissed my hand the other - night, for he called me "Little Miss Barbara" today, meaning little in the - sense of young. I gave him a stern glance. - </p> - <p> - "I am not any littler than the other night," I observed. - </p> - <p> - "That was merely an affectionate diminutive," he said, looking - uncomfortable. - </p> - <p> - "If you don't mind," I said coldly, "you might do as you have heretofore—reserve - your affectionate advances until we are alone." - </p> - <p> - "Barbara!" mother said. And began quickly to talk about a Lady Something - or other we'd met on a train in Switzerland. Because—they can talk - until they are black in the face, dear Diary, but it is true we do not - know any of the British Nobility, except the aforementioned and the man - who comes once a year with flavoring extracts, who says he is the third - son of a baronet. - </p> - <p> - Every one being out this afternoon, I suddenly had an inspiration, and - sent for Carter Brooks. I then put my hair up and put on my blue silk, - because while I do not believe in woman using her feminine charm when - talking business, I do believe that she should look her best under any and - all circumstances. - </p> - <p> - He was rather surprised not to find Sis in, as I had used her name in - telephoning. - </p> - <p> - "I did it," I explained, "because I knew that you felt no interest in me, - and I had to see you." - </p> - <p> - He looked at me, and said: - </p> - <p> - "I'm rather flabbergasted, Bab. I—what ought I to say, anyhow?" - </p> - <p> - He came very close, dear Diary, and suddenly I saw in his eyes the - horrible truth. He thought me in love with him, and sending for him while - the family was out. - </p> - <p> - Words cannot paint my agony of soul. I stepped back, but he seized my - hand, in a caressing gesture. - </p> - <p> - "Bab!" he said. "Dear little Bab!" - </p> - <p> - Had my affections not been otherwise engaged, I should have thrilled at - his accents. But, although handsome and of good family, though poor, I - could not see it that way. - </p> - <p> - So I drew my hand away, and retreated behind a sofa. - </p> - <p> - "We must have an understanding, Carter" I Said. "I have sent for you, but - not for the reason you seem to think. I am in desperate trouble." - </p> - <p> - He looked dumfounded. - </p> - <p> - "Trouble!" he said. "You! Why, little Bab" - </p> - <p> - "If you don't mind," I put in, rather pettishly, because of not being - little, "I wish you would treat me like almost a debutante, if not - entirely. I am not a child in arms." - </p> - <p> - "You are sweet enough to be, if the arms might be mine." - </p> - <p> - I have puzzled over this, since, dear Diary. Because there must be some - reason why men fall in love with me. I am not ugly, but I am not - beautiful, my nose being too short. And as for clothes, I get none except - Leila's old things. But Jane Raleigh says there are women like that. She - has a cousin who has had four husbands and is beginning on a fifth, - although not pretty and very slovenly, but with a mass of red hair. - </p> - <p> - Are all men to be my lovers? - </p> - <p> - "Carter," I said earnestly, "I must tell you now that I do not care for - you—in that way." - </p> - <p> - "What made you send for me, then?" - </p> - <p> - "Good gracious!" I exclaimed, losing my temper somewhat. "I can send for - the ice man without his thinking I'm crazy about him, can't I?" - </p> - <p> - "Thanks." - </p> - <p> - "The truth is," I said, sitting down and motioning him to a seat in my - maturest manner, "I—I want some money. There are many things, but - the money comes first." - </p> - <p> - He just sat and looked at me with his mouth open. - </p> - <p> - "Well," he said at last, "of course—I suppose you know you've come - to a Bank that's gone into the hands of a receiver. But aside from that, - Bab, it's a pretty mean trick to send for me and let me think—well, - no matter about that. How much do you want?" - </p> - <p> - "I can pay it back as soon as father comes home," I said, to relieve his - mind. It is against my principals to borrow money, especially from one who - has little or none. But since I was doing it, I felt I might as well ask - for a lot. - </p> - <p> - "Could you let me have ten dollars?" I said, in a faint tone. - </p> - <p> - He drew a long breath. - </p> - <p> - "Well, I guess yes," he observed. "I thought you were going to touch me - for a hundred, anyhow. I—I suppose you wouldn't give me a kiss and - call it square." - </p> - <p> - I considered. Because after all, a kiss is not much, and ten dollars is a - good deal. But at last my better nature won out. - </p> - <p> - "Certainly not," I said coldly. "And if there is a string to it I do not - want it." - </p> - <p> - So he apologized, and came and sat beside me, without being a nuisance, - and asked me what my other troubles were. - </p> - <p> - "Carter" I said, in a grave voice, "I know that you believe me young and - incapable of affection. But you are wrong. I am of a most loving - disposition." - </p> - <p> - "Now see here, Bab," he said. "Be fair. If I am not to hold your hand, or—or - be what you call a nuisance, don't talk like this. I am but human," he - said, "and there is something about you lately that—well, go on with - your story. Only, as I say, don't try me to far." - </p> - <p> - "It's like this," I explained. "Girls think they are cold and distant, and - indeed, frequently are." - </p> - <p> - "Frequently!" - </p> - <p> - "Until they meet the right one. Then they learn that their hearts are, as - you say, but human." - </p> - <p> - "Bab," he said, suddenly turning and facing me, "an awful thought has come - to me. You are in love—and not with me!" - </p> - <p> - "I am in love, and not with you," I said in tragic tones. - </p> - <p> - I had not thought he would feel it deeply—because of having been - interested in Leila since they went out in their perambulators together. - But I could see it was a shock to him. He got up and stood looking in the - fire, and his shoulders shook with grief. - </p> - <p> - "So I have lost you," he said in a smothered voice. And then—"Who is - the sneaking scoundrel?" - </p> - <p> - I forgave him this, because of his being upset, and in a rapt attitude I - told him the whole story. He listened, as one in a daze. - </p> - <p> - "But I gather," he said, when at last the recital was over, "that you have - never met the—met him." - </p> - <p> - "Not in the ordinary use of the word," I remarked. "But then it is not an - ordinary situation. We have met and we have not. Our eyes have spoken, if - not our vocal chords." Seeing his eyes on me I added, "if you do not - believe that soul can cry unto soul, Carter, I shall go no further." - </p> - <p> - "Oh!" he exclaimed. "There is more, is there? I trust it is not painful, - because I have stood as much as I can now without breaking down." - </p> - <p> - "Nothing of which I am ashamed," I said, rising to my full height. "I have - come to you for help, Carter. That play must not fail!" - </p> - <p> - We faced each other over those vital words—faced, and found no - solution. - </p> - <p> - "Is it a good play?" he asked, at last. - </p> - <p> - "It is a beautiful play. Oh, Carter, when at the end he takes his - sweetheart in his arms—the leading lady, and not at all attractive. - Jane Raleigh says that the star generally hates his leading lady—there - is not a dry eye in the house." - </p> - <p> - "Must be a jolly little thing. Well, of course I'm no theatrical manager, - but if it's any good there's only one way to save it. Advertise. I didn't - know the piece was in town, which shows that the publicity has been - rotten." - </p> - <p> - He began to walk the floor. I don't think I have mentioned it, but that is - Carter's business. Not walking the floor. Advertising. Father says he is - quite good, although only beginning. - </p> - <p> - "Tell me about it," he said. - </p> - <p> - So I told him that Adrian was a mill worker, and the villain makes him - lose his position, by means of forgery. And Adrian goes to jail, and comes - out, and no one will give him work. So he prepares to blow up a - millionaire's house, and his sweetheart is in it. He has been to the - millionaire for work and been refused and thrown out, saying, just before - the butler and three footmen push him through a window, in dramatic tones, - "The world owes me a living and I will have it." - </p> - <p> - "Socialism!" said Carter. "Hard stuff to handle for the two dollar seats. - The world owes him a living. Humph! Still, that's a good line to work on. - Look here, Bab, give me a little time on this, eh what? I may be able to - think of a trick or two. But mind, not a word to any one." - </p> - <p> - He started out, but he came back. - </p> - <p> - "Look here," he said. "Where do we come in on this anyhow? Suppose I do - think of something—what then? How are we to know that your beloved - and his manager will thank us for butting in, or do what we suggest?" - </p> - <p> - Again I drew myself to my full height. - </p> - <p> - "I am a person of iron will when my mind is made up," I said. "You think - of something, Carter, and I'll see that it is done." - </p> - <p> - He gazed at me in a rapt manner. - </p> - <p> - "Dammed if I don't believe you," he said. - </p> - <p> - It is now late at night. Beresford has gone. The house is still. I take - the dear picture out from under my mattress and look at it. - </p> - <p> - Oh Adrien, my Thespian, my Love. - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 21ST. I have a bad cold, Dear Diary, and feel rotten. But only my - physical condition is such. I am happy beyond words. This morning, while - mother and Sis were out I called up the theater and inquired the price of - a box. The man asked me to hold the line, and then came back and said it - would be ten dollars. I told him to reserve it for Miss Putnam—my - middle name. - </p> - <p> - I am both terrified and happy, dear Diary, as I lie here in bed with a hot - water bottle at my feet. I have helped the play by buying a box, and - tonight I shall sit in it alone, and he will perceive me there, and - consider that I must be at least twenty, or I would not be there at the - theater alone. Hannah has just come in and offered to lend me three - dollars. I refused haughtily, but at last rang for her and took two. I - might as well have a taxi tonight. - </p> - <p> - 1 A. M. The family was there! I might have known it. Never do I have any - luck. I am a broken thing, crushed to earth. But "Truth crushed to earth - will rise again."—Whittier? - </p> - <p> - I had my dinner in bed, on account of my cold, and was let severely alone - by the family. At seven I rose and with palpitating fingers dressed myself - in my best evening frock, which is a pale yellow. I put my hair up, and - was just finished, when mother knocked. It was terrible. - </p> - <p> - I had to duck back into bed and crush everything. But she only looked in - and said to try and behave for the next three hours, and went away. - </p> - <p> - At a quarter to eight I left the house in a clandestine manner by means of - the cellar and the area steps, and on the pavement drew a long breath. I - was free, and I had twelve dollars. - </p> - <p> - Act One went well, and no disturbance. Although Adrian started when he saw - me. The yellow looked very well. - </p> - <p> - I had expected to sit back, sheltered by the curtains, and only visible - from the stage. I have often read of this method. But there were no - curtains. I therefore sat, turning a stoney profile to the audience, and - ignoring it, as though it were not present, trusting to luck that no one I - knew was there. - </p> - <p> - He saw me. More than that, he hardly took his eyes from the box wherein I - sat. I am sure to that he had mentioned me to the company, for one and all - they stared at me until I think they will know me the next time they see - me. - </p> - <p> - I still think I would not have been recognized by the family had I not, in - a very quiet scene, commenced to sneeze. I did this several times, and a - lot of people looked annoyed, as though I sneezed because I liked to - sneeze. And I looked back at them defiantly, and in so doing, encountered - the gaze of my maternal parent. - </p> - <p> - Oh, Dear Diary, that I could have died at that moment, and thus, when - stretched out a pathetic figure, with tuber roses and other flowers, have - compelled their pity. But alas, no. I sneezed again! - </p> - <p> - Mother was wedged in, and I saw that my only hope was flight. I had not - had more than between three and four dollars worth of the evening, but I - glanced again and Sis was boring holes into me with her eyes. Only - Beresford knew nothing, and was trying to hold Sis's hand under her opera - cloak. Any fool could tell that. - </p> - <p> - But, as I was about to rise and stand poised, as one may say, for - departure, I caught Adrian's eyes, with a gleam in their deep depths. He - was, at the moment, toying with the bowl of roses. He took one out, and - while the leading lady was talking, he edged his way toward my box. There, - standing very close, apparently by accident, he dropped the rose into my - lap. - </p> - <p> - Oh Diary! Diary! - </p> - <p> - I picked it up, and holding it close to me, I flew. - </p> - <p> - I am now in bed and rather chilly. Mother banged at the door some time - ago, and at last went away, muttering. - </p> - <p> - I am afraid she is going to be pettish. - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 22ND. Father came home this morning, and things are looking up. - Mother of course tackled him first thing, and when he came upstairs I - expected an awful time. But my father is a real person, so he only sat - down on the bed, and said: - </p> - <p> - "Well, chicken, so you're at it again!" - </p> - <p> - I had to smile, although my chin shook. - </p> - <p> - "You'd better turn me out and forget me," I said. "I was born for trouble. - My advice to the family is to get out from under. That's all." - </p> - <p> - "Oh, I don't know," he said. "It's pretty convenient to have a family to - drop on when the slump comes." He thumped himself on the chest. "A hundred - and eighty pounds," he observed, "just intended for little daughters to - fall back on when other things fail." - </p> - <p> - "Father," I inquired, putting my hand in his, because I had been bearing - my burdens alone, and my strength was failing: "do you believe in Love?" - </p> - <h3> - "DO I!" - </h3> - <p> - "But I mean, not the ordinary attachment between two married people. I - mean Love—the real thing." - </p> - <p> - "I see! Why, of course I do." - </p> - <p> - "Did you ever read Pope, father?" - </p> - <p> - "Pope? Why I—probably, chicken. Why?" - </p> - <p> - "Then you know what he says: 'Curse on all laws but those which Love has - made.'" - </p> - <p> - "Look here," he said, suddenly laying a hand on my brow. "I believe you - are feverish." - </p> - <p> - "Not feverish, but in trouble," I explained. And so I told him the story, - not saying much of my deep passion for Adrian, but merely that I had - formed an attachment for him which would persist during life. Although I - had never yet exchanged a word with him. - </p> - <p> - Father listened and said it was indeed a sad story, and that he knew my - deep nature, and that I would be true to the end. But he refused to give - me any money, except enough to pay back Hannah and Carter Brooks, saying: - </p> - <p> - "Your mother does not wish you to go to the theater again, and who are we - to go against her wishes? And anyhow, maybe if you met this fellow and - talked to him, you would find him a disappointment. Many a pretty girl I - have seen in my time, who didn't pan out according to specifications when - I finally met her." - </p> - <p> - At this revelation of my beloved father's true self, I was almost stunned. - It is evident that I do not inherit my being true as steel from him. Nor - from my mother, who is like steel in hardness but not in being true to - anything but social position. - </p> - <p> - As I record this awful day, dear Dairy, there comes again into my mind the - thought that I DO NOT BELONG HERE. I am not like them. I do not even - resemble them in features. And, if I belonged to them, would they not - treat me with more consideration and less discipline? Who, in the family, - has my nose? - </p> - <p> - It is all well enough for Hannah to observe that I was a pretty baby with - fat cheeks. May not Hannah herself, for some hidden reason, have brought - me here, taking away the real I to perhaps languish unseen and "waste my - sweetness on the desert air"? But that way lies madness. Life must be made - the best of as it is, and not as it might be or indeed ought to be. - </p> - <p> - Father promised before he left that I was not to be scolded, as I felt far - from well, and was drinking water about every minute. - </p> - <p> - "I just want to lie here and think about things," I said, when he was - going. "I seem to have so many thoughts. And father——" - </p> - <p> - "Yes, chicken." - </p> - <p> - "If I need any help to carry out a plan I have, will you give it to me, or - will I have to go to total strangers?" - </p> - <p> - "Good gracious, Bab!" he exclaimed. "Come to me, of course." - </p> - <p> - "And you'll do what you're told?" - </p> - <p> - He looked out into the hall to see if mother was near. Then, dear Dairy, - he turned to me and said: - </p> - <p> - "I always have, Bab. I guess I'll run true to form." - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 23RD. Much better today. Out and around. Family (mother and Sis) - very dignified and nothing much to say. Evidently have promised father to - restrain themselves. Father rushed and not coming home to dinner. - </p> - <p> - Beresford on edge of proposing. Sis very jumpy. - </p> - <p> - LATER: Jane Raleigh is home for her cousin's wedding! Is coming over. We - shall take a walk, as I have much to tell her. - </p> - <p> - 6 P. M. What an afternoon! How shall I write it? This is a Milestone in my - Life. - </p> - <p> - I have met him at last. Nay, more. I have been in his dressing room, - conversing as though accustomed to such things all my life. I have - concealed under the mattress a real photograph of him, beneath which he - has written, "Yours always, Adrian Egleston." - </p> - <p> - I am writing in bed, as the room is chilly—or I am—and by - putting out my hand I can touch his pictured likeness. - </p> - <p> - Jane came around for me this afternoon, and mother consented to a walk. I - did not have a chance to take Sis's pink hat, as she keeps her door locked - now when not in her room. Which is ridiculous, because I am not her type, - and her things do not suit me very well anyhow. And I have never borrowed - anything but gloves and handkerchiefs, except Maddie's dress and the hat. - </p> - <p> - She had, however, not locked her bathroom, and finding a bunch of violets - in the washbowl I put them on. It does not hurt violets to wear them, and - anyhow I knew Carter Brooks had sent them and she ought to wear only - Beresford's flowers if she means to marry him. - </p> - <p> - Jane at once remarked that I looked changed. - </p> - <p> - "Naturally," I said, in a blase' manner. - </p> - <p> - "If I didn't know you, Bab," she observed, "I would say that you are - rouged." - </p> - <p> - I became very stiff and distant at that. For Jane, although my best - friend, had no right to be suspicious of me. - </p> - <p> - "How do I look changed?" I demanded. - </p> - <p> - "I don't know. You—Bab, I believe you are up to some mischief!" - </p> - <p> - "Mischief?" - </p> - <p> - "You don't need to pretend to me," she went on, looking into my very soul. - "I have eyes. You're not decked out this way for ME." - </p> - <p> - I had meant to tell her nothing, but spying just then a man ahead who - walked like Adrian, I was startled. I clutched her arm and closed my eyes. - </p> - <p> - "Bab!" she said. - </p> - <p> - The man turned, and I saw it was not he. I breathed again. But Jane was - watching me, and I spoke out of an overflowing heart. - </p> - <p> - "For a moment I thought—Jane, I have met THE ONE at last." - </p> - <p> - "Barbara!" she said, and stopped dead. "Is it any one I know?" - </p> - <p> - "He is an actor." - </p> - <p> - "Ye gods!" said Jane, in a tense voice. "What a tragedy!" - </p> - <p> - "Tragedy indeed," I was compelled to admit. "Jane, my heart is breaking. I - am not allowed to see him. It is all off, forever." - </p> - <p> - "Darling!" said Jane. "You are trembling all over. Hold on to me. Do they - disapprove?" - </p> - <p> - "I am never to see him again. Never." - </p> - <p> - The bitterness of it all overcame me. My eyes suffused with tears. - </p> - <p> - But I told her, in broken accents, of my determination to stick to him, no - matter what. "I might never be Mrs. Adrian Egleston, but——" - </p> - <p> - "Adrian Egleston!" she cried, in amazement. "Why Barbara, you lucky - thing!" - </p> - <p> - So, finding her fuller of sympathy than usual, I violated my vow of - silence and told her all. - </p> - <p> - And, to prove the truth of what I said, I showed her the sachet over my - heart containing his rose. - </p> - <p> - "It's perfectly wonderful," Jane said, in an awed tone. "You beat anything - I've ever known for adventures! You are the type men like, for one thing. - But there is one thing I could not stand, in your place—having to - know that he is making love to the heroine every evening and twice on - Wednesdays and—Bab, this is Wednesday!" - </p> - <p> - I glanced at my wrist watch. It was but two o'clock. Instantly, dear - Dairy, I became conscious of a dual going on within me, between love and - duty. Should I do as instructed and see him no more, thus crushing my - inclination under the iron heel of resolution? Or should I cast my parents - to the winds, and go? - </p> - <p> - Which? - </p> - <p> - At last I decided to leave it to Jane. I observed: "I'm forbidden to try - to see him. But I daresay, if you bought some theater tickets and did not - say what the play was, and we went and it happened to be his, it would not - be my fault, would it?" - </p> - <p> - I cannot recall her reply, or much more, except that I waited in a - pharmacy, and Jane went out, and came back and took me by the arm. - </p> - <p> - "We're going to the matinee, Bab," she said. "I'll not tell you which one, - because it's to be a surprise." She squeezed my arm. "First row," she - whispered. - </p> - <p> - I shall draw a veil over my feelings. Jane bought some chocolates to take - along, but I could eat none. I was thirsty, but not hungry. And my cold - was pretty bad, to. - </p> - <p> - So we went in, and the curtain went up. When Adrian saw me, in the front - row, he smiled although in the midst of a serious speech about the world - owing him a living. And Jane was terribly excited. - </p> - <p> - "Isn't he the handsomest thing!" she said. "And oh, Bab, I can see that he - adores you. He is acting for you. All the rest of the people mean nothing - to him. He sees but you." - </p> - <p> - Well, I had not told her that we had not yet met, and she said I could do - nothing less than send him a note. - </p> - <p> - "You ought to tell him that you are true, in spite of everything," she - said. - </p> - <p> - If I had not deceived Jane things would be better. But she was set on my - sending the note. So at last I wrote one on my visiting card, holding it - so she could not read it. Jane is my best friend and I am devoted to her, - but she has no scruples about reading what is not meant for her. I said: - </p> - <p> - "Dear Mr. Egleston: I think the play is perfectly wonderful. And you are - perfectly splendid in it. It is perfectly terrible that it is going to - stop. - </p> - <p> - "(Signed) The girl of the rose." - </p> - <p> - I know that this seems bold. But I did not feel bold, dear Dairy. It was - such a letter as any one might read, and contained nothing compromising. - Still, I daresay I should not have written it. But "out of the fulness of - the heart the mouth speaketh." - </p> - <p> - I was shaking so much that I could not give it to the usher. But Jane did. - However, I had sealed it up in an envelope. - </p> - <p> - Now comes the real surprise, dear Dairy. For the usher came down and said - Mr. Egleston hoped I would go back and see him after the act was over. I - think a pallor must have come over me, and Jane said: - </p> - <p> - "Bab! Do you dare?" - </p> - <p> - I said yes, I dared, but that I would like a glass of water. I seemed to - be thirsty all the time. So she got it, and I recovered my savoir fair, - and stopped shaking. - </p> - <p> - I suppose Jane expected to go along, but I refrained from asking her. She - then said: - </p> - <p> - "Try to remember everything he says, Bab. I am just crazy about it." - </p> - <p> - Ah, dear Dairy, how can I write how I felt when being led to him. The - entire scene is engraved on my soul. I, with my very heart in my eyes, in - spite of my efforts to seem cool and collected. He, in front of his - mirror, drawing in the lines of starvation around his mouth for the next - scene, while on his poor feet a valet put the raged shoes of Act II! - </p> - <p> - He rose when I entered, and took me by the hand. - </p> - <p> - "Well!" he said. "At last!" - </p> - <p> - He did not seem to mind the valet, whom he treated like a chair or table. - And he held my hand and looked deep into my eyes. - </p> - <p> - Ah, dear Dairy, Men may come and Men may go in my life, but never again - will I know such ecstasy as at that moment. - </p> - <p> - "Sit down," he said. "Little Lady of the rose—but it's violets - today, isn't it? And so you like the play?" - </p> - <p> - I was by that time somewhat calmer, but glad to sit down, owing to my - knees feeling queer. - </p> - <p> - "I think it is magnificent," I said. - </p> - <p> - "I wish there were more like you," he observed. "Just a moment, I have to - make a change here. No need to go out. There's a screen for that very - purpose." - </p> - <p> - He went behind the screen, and the man handed him a raged shirt over the - top of it, while I sat in a chair and dreamed. What I reflected, would the - School say if it but knew! I felt no remorse. I was there, and beyond the - screen, changing into the garments of penury, was the only member of the - other sex I had ever felt I could truly care for. - </p> - <p> - Dear Dairy, I am tired and my head aches. I cannot write it all. He was - perfectly respectful, and only his eyes showed his true feelings. The - woman who is the adventuress in the play came to the door, but he motioned - her away with a wave of the hand. And at last it was over, and he was - asking me to come again soon, and if I would care to have one of his - pictures. - </p> - <p> - I am very sleepy tonight, but I cannot close this record of a - w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l d-a-y—— - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 24TH. Cold worse. - </p> - <p> - Not hearing from Carter Brooks I telephoned him just now. He is sore about - Beresford and said he would not come to the house. So I have asked him to - meet me in the park, and said that there were only two more days, this - being Thursday. - </p> - <p> - LATER: I have seen Carter, and he has a fine plan. If only father will do - it. - </p> - <p> - He says the theme is that the world owes Adrian a living, and that the way - to do is to put that strongly before the people. - </p> - <p> - "Suppose," he said, "that this fellow would go to some big factory, and - demand work. Not ask for it. Demand it. He could pretend to be starving - and say: 'The world owes me a living, and I intend to have it.'" - </p> - <p> - "But suppose they were sorry for him and gave it to him?" I observed. - </p> - <p> - "Tut, child," he said. "That would have to be all fixed up first. It ought - to be arranged that he not only be refused, but what's more, that he'll be - thrown out. He'll have to cut up a lot, d'you see, so they'll throw him - out. And we'll have Reporters there, so the story can get around. You get - it, don't you? Your friend, in order to prove that the idea of the play is - right, goes out for a job, and proves that he cannot demand labor and get - it." He stopped and spoke with excitement: "Is he a real sport? Would he - stand being arrested? Because that would cinch it." - </p> - <p> - But here I drew a line. I would not subject him to such humiliation. I - would not have him arrested. And at last Carter gave in. - </p> - <p> - "But you get the idea," he said. "There'll be the deuce of a row, and it's - good for a half column on the first page of the evening papers. Result, a - jam that night at the performance, and a new lease of life for the Play. - Egleston comes on, bruised and battered, and perhaps with a limp. The - Labor Unions take up the matter—it's a knock out. I'd charge a - thousand dollars for that idea if I were selling it." - </p> - <p> - "Bruised!" I exclaimed. "Really bruised or painted on?" - </p> - <p> - He glared at me impatiently. - </p> - <p> - "Now see here, Bab," he said. "I'm doing this for you. You've got to play - up. And if your young man won't stand a bang in the eye, for instance, to - earn his bread and butter, he's not worth saving." - </p> - <p> - "Who are you going to get to—to throw him out?" I asked, in a - faltering tone. - </p> - <p> - He stopped and stared at me. - </p> - <p> - "I like that!" he said. "It's not my play that's failing, is it? Go and - tell him the scheme, and then let his manager work it out. And tell him - who I am, and that I have a lot of ideas, but this is the only one I'm - giving away." - </p> - <p> - We had arrived at the house by that time and I invited him to come in. But - he only glanced bitterly at the windows and observed that they had taken - in the mat with 'Welcome' on it, as far as he was concerned. And went - away. - </p> - <p> - Although we have never had a mat with 'Welcome' on it. - </p> - <p> - Dear Diary, I wonder if father would do it? He is gentle and kindhearted, - and it would be painful to him. But to who else can I turn in my - extremity? - </p> - <p> - I have but one hope. My father is like me. He can be coaxed and if kindly - treated will do anything. But if approached in the wrong way, or asked to - do something against his principals, he becomes a roaring lion. - </p> - <p> - He would never be bully-ed into giving a man work, even so touching a - personality as Adrian's. - </p> - <p> - LATER: I meant to ask father tonight, but he has just heard of Beresford - and is in a terrible temper. He says Sis can't marry him, because he is - sure there are plenty of things he could be doing in England, if not - actually fighting. - </p> - <p> - "He could probably run a bus, and release some one who can fight," he - shouted. "Or he could at least do an honest day's work with his hands. - Don't let me see him, that's all." - </p> - <p> - "Do I understand that you forbid him the house?" Leila asked, in a cold - fury. - </p> - <p> - "Just keep him out of my sight," father snapped. "I suppose I can't keep - him from swilling tea while I am away doing my part to help the Allies." - </p> - <p> - "Oh, rot!" said Sis, in a scornful manner. "While you help your bank - account, you mean. I don't object to that, father, but for heaven's sake - don't put it on altruistic grounds." - </p> - <p> - She went upstairs then and banged her door, and mother merely set her lips - and said nothing. But when Beresford called, later, Tanney had to tell him - the family was out. - </p> - <p> - Were it not for our affections, and the necessity for getting married, so - there would be an increase in the population, how happy we could all be! - </p> - <p> - LATER: I have seen father. - </p> - <p> - It was a painful evening, with Sis shut away in her room, and father - cutting the ends off cigars in a viscious manner. Mother was NON EST, and - had I not had my memories, it would have been a sickning time. - </p> - <p> - I sat very still and waited until father softened, which he usually does, - like ice cream, all at once and all over. I sat perfectly still in a large - chair, and except for an occasional sneeze, was quiet. - </p> - <p> - Only once did my parent address me in an hour, when he said: - </p> - <p> - "What the devil's making you sneeze so?" - </p> - <p> - "My nose, I think, sir," I said meekly. - </p> - <p> - "Humph!" he said. "It's rather a small nose to be making such a racket." - </p> - <p> - I was cut to the heart, Dear Diary. One of my dearest dreams has always - been a delicate nose, slightly arched and long enough to be truly - aristocratic. Not really acqualine but on the verge. I HATE my little nose—hate - it—hate it—HATE IT. - </p> - <p> - "Father" I said, rising and on the point of tears. "How can you! To taunt - me with what is not my own fault, but partly hereditary and partly - carelessness. For if you had pinched it in infancy it would have been a - good nose, and not a pug. And——" - </p> - <p> - "Good gracious!" he exclaimed. "Why, Bab, I never meant to insult your - nose. As a matter of fact, it's a good nose. It's exactly the sort of nose - you ought to have. Why, what in the world would YOU do with a Roman nose?" - </p> - <p> - I have not been feeling very well, dear Diary, and so I suddenly began to - weep. - </p> - <p> - "Why, chicken!" said my father. And made me sit down on his knee. "Don't - tell me that my bit of sunshine is behind a cloud!" - </p> - <p> - "Behind a nose," I said, feebly. - </p> - <p> - So he said he liked my nose, even although somewhat swollen, and he kissed - it, and told me I was a little fool, and at last I saw he was about ready - to be tackled. So I observed: - </p> - <p> - "Father, will you do me a favor?" - </p> - <p> - "Sure," he said. "How much do you need? Business is pretty good now, and - I've about landed the new order for shells for the English War Department. - I—suppose we make it fifty! Although, we'd better keep it a secret - between the two of us." - </p> - <p> - I drew myself up, although tempted. But what was fifty dollars to doing - something for Adrian? A mere bagatelle. - </p> - <p> - "Father," I said, "do you know Miss Everett, my English teacher?" - </p> - <p> - He remembered the name. - </p> - <p> - "Would you be willing to do her a great favor?" I demanded intensely. - </p> - <p> - "What sort of a favor?" - </p> - <p> - "Her cousin has written a play. She is very fond of her cousin, and - anxious to have him succeed. And it is a lovely play." - </p> - <p> - He held me off and stared at me. - </p> - <p> - "So THAT is what you were doing in that box alone!" he exclaimed. "You - incomprehensible child! Why didn't you tell your mother?" - </p> - <p> - "Mother does not always understand," I said, in a low voice. "I thought, - by buying a box, I would do my part to help Miss Everett's cousin's play - succeed. And as a result I was dragged home, and shamefully treated in the - most mortifying manner. But I am accustomed to brutality." - </p> - <p> - "Oh, come now," he said. "I wouldn't go as far as that, chicken. Well, I - won't finance the play, but short of that I'll do what I can." - </p> - <p> - However he was not so agreeable when I told him Carter Brooks' plan. He - delivered a firm no. - </p> - <p> - "Although," he said, "somebody ought to do it, and show the fallacy of the - play. In the first place, the world doesn't owe the fellow a living, - unless he will hustle around and make it. In the second place an employer - has a right to turn away a man he doesn't want. No one can force a - business to employ Labor." - </p> - <p> - "Well," I said, "as long as Labor talks and makes a lot of noise, and - Capitol is too dignified to say anything, most people are going to side - with Labor." - </p> - <p> - He gazed at me. - </p> - <p> - "Right!" he said. "You've put your finger on it, in true feminine - fashion." - </p> - <p> - "Then why won't you throw out this man when he comes to you for work? He - intends to force you to employ him." - </p> - <p> - "Oh, he does, does he?" said father, in a fierce voice. "Well, let him - come. I can stand up for my principals, too. I'll throw him out, all - right." - </p> - <p> - Dear Diary, the battle is over and I have won. I am very happy. How true - it is that strategy will do more than violence! - </p> - <p> - We have arranged it all. Adrian is to go to the mill, dressed like a - decayed gentleman, and father will refuse to give him work. I have said - nothing about violence, leaving that to arrange itself. - </p> - <p> - I must see Adrian and his manager. Carter has promised to tell some - reporters that there may be a story at the mill on Saturday morning. I am - to excited to sleep. - </p> - <p> - Feel horrid. Forbidden to go out this morning. - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 25TH. Beresford was here to lunch and he and mother and Sis had a - long talk. He says he has kept it a secret because he did not want his - business known. But he is here to place a shell order for the English War - Department. - </p> - <p> - "Well," Leila said, "I can hardly wait to tell father and see him curl - up." - </p> - <p> - "No, no," said Beresford, hastily. "Really you must allow me. I must - inform him myself. I am sure you can see why. This is a thing for men to - settle. Besides, it is a delicate matter. Mr. Archibald is trying to get - the order, and our New York office, if I am willing, is ready to place it - with him." - </p> - <p> - "Well!" said Leila, in a thunderstruck tone. "If you British don't beat - anything for keeping your own Counsel!" - </p> - <p> - I could see that he had her hand under the table. It was sickening. - </p> - <p> - Jane came to see me after lunch. The wedding was that night, and I had to - sit through silver vegetable dishes, and after-dinner coffee sets and - plates and a grand piano and a set of gold vases and a cabushion sapphire - and the bridesmaid's clothes and the wedding supper and heaven knows what. - But at last she said: - </p> - <p> - "You dear thing—how weary and wan you look!" - </p> - <p> - I closed my eyes. - </p> - <p> - "But you don't intend to give him up, do you?" - </p> - <p> - "Look at me!" I said, in imperious tones. "Do I look like one who would - give him up, because of family objections?" - </p> - <p> - "How brave you are!" she observed. "Bab, I am green with envy. When I - think of the way he looked at you, and the tones of his voice when he made - love to that—that creature, I am positively SHAKEN." - </p> - <p> - We sat in somber silence. Then she said: - </p> - <p> - "I daresay he detests the heroine, doesn't he?" - </p> - <p> - "He tolerates her," I said, with a shrug. - </p> - <p> - More silence. I rang for Hannah to bring some ice water. We were in my - boudoir. - </p> - <p> - "I saw him yesterday," said Jane, when Hannah had gone. - </p> - <p> - "Jane!" - </p> - <p> - "In the park. He was with the woman that plays the Adventuress. Ugly old - thing." - </p> - <p> - I drew a long breath of relief. For I knew that the adventuress was at - least thirty and perhaps more. Besides being both wicked and cruel, and - not at all feminine. - </p> - <p> - Hannah brought the ice-water and then came in the most maddening way and - put her hand on my forehead. - </p> - <p> - "I've done nothing but bring you ice-water for two days," she said. "Your - head's hot. I think you need a mustard foot bath and to go to bed." - </p> - <p> - "Hannah," Jane said, in her loftiest fashion, "Miss Barbara is worried, - not ill. And please close the door when you go out." - </p> - <p> - Which was her way of telling Hannah to go. Hannah glared at her. - </p> - <p> - "If you take my advice, Miss Jane," she said. "You'll keep away from Miss - Barbara." - </p> - <p> - And she went out, slamming the door. - </p> - <p> - "Well!" gasped Jane. "Such impertinence. Old servant or not, she ought to - have her mouth slapped." - </p> - <p> - Well, I told Jane the plan and she was perfectly crazy about it. I had a - headache, but she helped me into my street things, and got Sis's rose hat - for me while Sis was at the telephone. Then we went out. - </p> - <p> - First we telephoned Carter Brooks, and he said tomorrow morning would do, - and he'd give a couple of reporters the word to hang around father's - office at the mill. He said to have Adrian there at ten o'clock. - </p> - <p> - "Are you sure your father will do it?" he asked. "We don't want a fliver, - you know." - </p> - <p> - "He's making a principal of it," I said. "When he makes a principal of a - thing, he does it." - </p> - <p> - "Good for father!" Carter said. "Tell him not to be to gentle. And tell - your actor-friend to make a lot of fuss. The more the better. I'll see the - policeman at the mill, and he'll probably take him up. But we'll get him - out for the matinee. And watch the evening papers." - </p> - <p> - It was then that a terrible thought struck me. What if Adrian considered - it beneath his profession to advertize, even if indirectly? What if he - preferred the failure of Miss Everett's cousin's play to a bruise on the - eye? What, in short, if he refused? - </p> - <p> - Dear Dairy, I was stupified. I knew not which way to turn. For men are not - like women, who are dependable and anxious to get along, and will - sacrifice anything for success. No, men are likely to turn on the ones - they love best, if the smallest things do not suit them, such as cold - soup, or sleeves too long from the shirt-maker, or plans made which they - have not been consulted about beforehand. - </p> - <p> - "Darling!" said Jane, as I turned away, "you look STRICKEN!" - </p> - <p> - "My head aches," I said, with a weary gesture toward my forehead. It did - ache, for that matter. It is aching now, dear Dairy. - </p> - <p> - However, I had begun my task and must go through with it. Abandoning Jane - at a corner, in spite of her calling me cruel and even sneaking, I went to - Adrian's hotel, which I had learned of during my seance in his room while - he was changing his garments behind a screen, as it was marked on a - dressing case. - </p> - <p> - It was then five o'clock. - </p> - <p> - How nervous I felt as I sent up my name to his chamber. Oh, Dear Diary, to - think that it was but five hours ago that I sat and waited, while people - who guessed not the inner trepidation of my heart past and repast, and - glanced at me and at Leila's pink hat above. - </p> - <p> - At last he came. My heart beat thunderously, as he approached, striding - along in that familiar walk, swinging his strong and tender arms. And I! I - beheld him coming and could think of not a word to say. - </p> - <p> - "Well!" he said, pausing in front of me. "I knew I was going to be lucky - today. Friday is my best day." - </p> - <p> - "I was born on Friday," I said. I could think of nothing else. - </p> - <p> - "Didn't I say it was my lucky day? But you mustn't sit here. What do you - say to a cup of tea in the restaurant?" - </p> - <p> - How grown up and like a debutante I felt, Dear Diary, going to have tea as - if I had it every day at school, with a handsome actor across! Although - somewhat uneasy also, owing to the possibility of the family coming in. - But it did not and I had a truly happy hour, not at all spoiled by looking - out the window and seeing Jane going by, with her eyes popping out, and - walking very slowly so I would invite her to come in. - </p> - <h3> - WHICH I DID NOT. - </h3> - <p> - Dear Diary, HE WILL DO IT. At first he did not understand, and looked - astounded. But when I told him of Carter being in the advertizing - business, and father owning a large mill, and that there would be - reporters and so on, he became thoughtful. - </p> - <p> - "It's really incredibly clever," he said. "And if it's pulled off right it - ought to be a stampede. But I'd like to see Mr. Brooks. We can't have it - fail, you know." He leaned over the table. "It's straight goods, is it, - Miss er—Barbara? There's nothing phoney about it?" - </p> - <p> - "Phoney!" I said, drawing back. "Certainly not." - </p> - <p> - He kept on leaning over the table. - </p> - <p> - "I wonder," he said, "what makes you so interested in the play?" - </p> - <p> - Oh, Diary, Diary! - </p> - <p> - And just then I looked up, and the adventuress was staring in the door at - me with the meanest look on her face. - </p> - <p> - I draw a veil over the remainder of our happy hour. Suffice it to say that - he considers me exactly the type he finds most attractive, and that he - does not consider my nose too short. We had a long dispute about this. He - thinks I am wrong and says I am not an aquiline type. He says I am - romantic and of a loving disposition. Also somewhat reckless, and he gave - me good advice about doing what my family consider for my good, at least - until I come out. - </p> - <p> - But our talk was all too short, for a fat man with three rings on came in, - and sat down with us, and ordered a whiskey and soda. My blood turned - cold, for fear some one I knew would come in and see me sitting there in a - drinking party. - </p> - <p> - And my blood was right to turn cold. For, just as he had told the manager - about the arrangement I had made, and the manager said "Bully" and raised - his glass to drink to me I looked across and there was mother's aunt, old - Susan Paget, sitting near, with the most awful face I ever saw! - </p> - <p> - I collapsed in my chair. - </p> - <p> - Dear Diary, I only remember saying, "Well, remember, ten o'clock. And - dress up like a gentleman in hard luck," and his saying: "Well, I hope I'm - a gentleman, and the hard luck's no joke," and then I went away. - </p> - <p> - And now, Dear Diary, I am in bed, and every time the telephone rings I - have a chill. And in between times I drink ice-water and sneeze. How - terrible a thing is love. - </p> - <p> - LATER: I can hardly write. Switzerland is a settled thing. Father is not - home tonight and I cannot appeal to him. Susan Paget said I was drinking - too, and mother is having the vibrator used on her spine. If I felt better - I would run away. - </p> - <p> - JANUARY 26TH. How can I write what has happened? It is so terrible. - </p> - <p> - Beresford went at ten o'clock to ask for Leila, and did not send in his - card for fear father would refuse to see him. And father thought, from his - saying that he had come to ask for something, and so on, that it was - Adrian, and threw him out. He ordered him out first, and Beresford refused - to go, and they had words, and then there was a fight. The reporters got - it, and it is in all the papers. Hannah has just brought one in. It is - headed "Manufacturer assaults Peer." Leila is in bed, and the doctor is - with her. - </p> - <p> - LATER: Adrian has disappeared. The manager has just called up, and with - shaking knees I went to the telephone. Adrian went to the mill a little - after ten, and has not been seen since. - </p> - <p> - It is in vain I protest that he has not eloped with me. It is almost time - now for the matinee and no Adrian. What shall I do? - </p> - <p> - SATURDAY, 11 P.M. Dear Diary, I have the measles. I am all broken out, and - look horrible. But what is a sickness of the body compared to the agony of - my mind? Oh, Dear Diary, to think of what has happened since last I saw - your stainless pages! - </p> - <p> - What is a sickness to a broken heart? And to a heart broken while trying - to help another who did not deserve to be helped. But if he deceived me, - he has paid for it, and did until he was rescued at ten o'clock tonight. - </p> - <p> - I have been given a sleeping medicine, and until it takes affect I shall - write out the tragedy of this day, omitting nothing. The trained nurse is - asleep on a cot, and her cap is hanging on the foot of the bed. - </p> - <p> - I have tried it on, Dear Diary, and it is very becoming. If they insist on - Switzerland I think I shall run away and be a trained nurse. It is easy - work, although sleeping on a cot is not always comfortable. But at least a - trained nurse leads her own life and is not bullied by her family. And - more, she does good constantly. - </p> - <p> - I feel tonight that I should like to do good, and help the sick, and - perhaps go to the front. I know a lot of college men in the American - Ambulance. - </p> - <p> - I shall never go on the stage, Dear Diary. I know now its deceitfulness - and vicissitudes. My heart has bled until it can bleed no more, as a - result of a theatrical Adonis. I am through with the theater forever. - </p> - <p> - I shall begin at the beginning. I left off where Adrian had disappeared. - </p> - <p> - Although feeling very strange, and looking a queer red color in my mirror, - I rose and dressed myself. I felt that something had slipped, and I must - find Adrian. (It is strange with what coldness I write that once beloved - name.) - </p> - <p> - While dressing I perceived that my chest and arms were covered with small - red dots, but I had no time to think of myself. I slipped downstairs and - outside the drawing room I heard mother conversing in a loud and angry - tone with a visitor. I glanced in, and ye gods! - </p> - <p> - It was the adventuress. - </p> - <p> - Drawing somewhat back, I listened. Oh, Diary, what a revelation! - </p> - <p> - "But I MUST see her," she was saying. "Time is flying. In a half hour the - performance begins, and—he cannot be found." - </p> - <p> - "I can't understand," mother said, in a stiff manner. "What can my - daughter Barbara know about him?" - </p> - <p> - The adventuress sniffed. "Humph!" she said. "She knows, alright. And I'd - like to see her in a hurry, if she is in the house." - </p> - <p> - "Certainly she is in the house," said mother. - </p> - <p> - "ARE YOU SURE OF THAT? Because I have every reason to believe she has run - away with him. She has been hanging around him all week, and only - yesterday afternoon I found them together. She had some sort of a scheme, - he said afterwards, and he wrinkled a coat under his mattress last night. - He said it was to look as if he had slept in it. I know nothing further of - your daughter's scheme. But I know he went out to meet her. He has not - been seen since. His manager has hunted for to hours." - </p> - <p> - "Just a moment," said mother, in a frigid tone. "Am I to understand that - this—this Mr. Egleston is——" - </p> - <p> - "He is my Husband." - </p> - <p> - Ah, Dear Diary, that I might then and there have passed away. But I did - not. I stood there, with my heart crushed, until I felt strong enough to - escape. Then I fled, like a guilty soul. It was ghastly. - </p> - <p> - On the doorstep I met Jane. She gazed at me strangely when she saw my - face, and then clutched me by the arm. - </p> - <p> - "Bab!" she cried. "What on the earth is the matter with your complexion?" - </p> - <p> - But I was desperate. - </p> - <p> - "Let me go!" I said. "Only lend me two dollars for a taxi and let me go. - Something horrible has happened." - </p> - <p> - She gave me ninety cents, which was all she had, and I rushed down the - street, followed by her piercing gaze. - </p> - <p> - Although realizing that my life, at least the part of it pertaining to - sentiment, was over, I knew that, single or married, I must find him. I - could not bare to think that I, in my desire to help, had ruined Miss - Everett's cousin's play. Luckily I got a taxi at the corner, and I ordered - it to drive to the mill. I sank back, bathed in hot perspiration, and on - consulting my bracelet watch found I had but twenty five minutes until the - curtain went up. - </p> - <p> - I must find him, but where and how! I confess for a moment that I doubted - my own father, who can be very fierce on occasion. What if, maddened by - his mistake about Beresford, he had, on being approached by Adrian, been - driven to violence? What if, in my endeavor to help one who was unworthy, - I had led my poor paternal parent into crime? - </p> - <p> - Hell is paved with good intentions. SAMUEL JOHNSTON. - </p> - <p> - On driving madly into the mill yard, I suddenly remembered that it was - Saturday and a half holiday. The mill was going, but the offices were - closed. Father, then, was immured in the safety of his club, and could not - be reached except by pay telephone. And the taxi was now ninety cents. - </p> - <p> - I got out, and paid the man. I felt very dizzy and queer, and was very - thirsty, so I went to the hydrant in the yard and got a drink of water. I - did not as yet suspect measles, but laid it all to my agony of mind. - </p> - <p> - Having thus refreshed myself, I looked about, and saw the yard policeman, - a new one who did not know me, as I am away at school most of the time, - and the family is not expected to visit the mill, because of dirt and - possible accidents. - </p> - <p> - I approached him, however, and he stood still and stared at me. - </p> - <p> - "Officer" I said, in my most dignified tones. "I am looking for a—for - a gentleman who came here this morning to look for work." - </p> - <p> - "There was about two hundred lined up here this morning, Miss," he said. - "Which one would it be, now?" - </p> - <p> - How my heart sank! - </p> - <p> - "About what time would he be coming?" he said. "Things have been kind of - mixed-up around here today, owing to a little trouble this morning. But - perhaps I'll remember him." - </p> - <p> - But, although Adrian is of an unusual type, I felt that I could not - describe him, besides having a terrible headache. So I asked if he would - lend me carfare, which he did with a strange look. - </p> - <p> - "You're not feeling sick, Miss, are you?" he said. But I could not stay to - converse, as it was then time for the curtain to go up, and still no - Adrian. - </p> - <p> - I had but one refuge in mind, Carter Brooks, and to him I fled on the - wings of misery in the street car. I burst into his advertizing office - like a fury. - </p> - <p> - "Where is he?" I demanded. "Where have you and your plotting hidden him?" - </p> - <p> - "Who? Beresford?" he asked in a placid manner. "He is at his hotel, I - believe, putting beefsteak on a bad eye. Believe me, Bab——" - </p> - <p> - "Beresford!" I cried, in scorn and wretchedness. "What is he to me? Or his - eye either? I refer to Mr. Egleston. It is time for the curtain to go up - now, and unless he has by this time returned, there can be no - performance." - </p> - <p> - "Look here," Carter said suddenly, "you look awfully queer, Bab. Your face——" - </p> - <p> - I stamped my foot. - </p> - <p> - "What does my face matter?" I demanded. "I no longer care for him, but I - have ruined Miss Everett's cousin's play unless he turns up. Am I to be - sent to Switzerland with that on my soul?" - </p> - <p> - "Switzerland!" he said slowly. "Why, Bab, they're not going to do that, - are they? I—I don't want you so far away." - </p> - <p> - Dear Dairy, I am unsuspicious by nature, believing all mankind to be my - friends until proven otherwise. But there was a gloating look in Carter - Brooks' eyes as they turned on me. - </p> - <p> - "Carter!" I said, "you know where he is and you will not tell me. You WISH - to ruin him." - </p> - <p> - I was about to put my hand on his arm, but he drew away. - </p> - <p> - "Look here," he said. "I'll tell you something, but please keep back. - Because you look like smallpox to me. I was at the mill this morning. I do - not know anything about your actor-friend. He's probably only been run - over or something. But I saw Beresford going in, and I—well, I - suggested that he'd better walk in on your father or he wouldn't get in. - It worked, Bab. HOW IT DID WORK! He went in and said he had come to ask - your father for something, and your father blew up by saying that he knew - about it, but that the world only owed a living to the man who would - hustle for it, and that he would not be forced to take any one he did not - want. - </p> - <p> - "And in two minutes Beresford hit him, and got a response. It was a - million dollars worth." - </p> - <p> - So he babbled on. But what were his words to me? - </p> - <p> - Dear Diary, I gave no thought to the smallpox he had mentioned, although - fatal to the complexion. Or to the fight at the mill. I heard only - Adrian's possible tragic fate. Suddenly I collapsed, and asked for a drink - of water, feeling horrible, very wobbly and unable to keep my knees from - bending. - </p> - <p> - And the next thing I remember is father taking me home, and Adrian's fate - still a deep mystery, and remaining such, while I had a warm sponge to - bring out the rest of the rash, followed by a sleep—it being measles - and not smallpox. - </p> - <p> - Oh, Dear Diary, what a story I learned when having wakened and feeling - better, my father came tonight and talked to me from the doorway, not - being allowed in. - </p> - <p> - Adrian had gone to the mill, and father, having thrown Beresford out and - asserted his principals, had not thrown him out, BUT HAD GIVEN HIM A JOB - IN THE MILL. And the Policeman had given him no chance to escape, which he - attempted. He was dragged to the shell plant and there locked in, because - of spies. The plant is under military guard. - </p> - <p> - And there he had been compelled to drag a wheelbarrow back and forth - containing charcoal for a small furnace, for hours! - </p> - <p> - Even when Carter found him he could not be released, as father was in - hiding from reporters, and would not go to the telephone or see callers. - </p> - <p> - He labored until 10 p.m., while the theater remained dark, and people got - their money back. - </p> - <p> - I have ruined him. I have also ruined Miss Everett's cousin. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - The nurse is still asleep. I think I will enter a hospital. My career is - ended, my life is blasted. - </p> - <p> - I reach under the mattress and draw out the picture of him who today I - have ruined, compelling him to do manual labor for hours, although - unaccustomed to it. He is a great actor, and I believe has a future. But - my love for him is dead. Dear Diary, he deceived me, and that is one thing - I cannot forgive. - </p> - <p> - So now I sit here among my pillows, while the nurse sleeps, and I reflect - about many things. But one speech rings in my ears over and over. - </p> - <p> - Carter Brooks, on learning about Switzerland, said it in a strange manner, - looking at me with inscrutable eyes. - </p> - <p> - "Switzerland! Why, Bab—I don't want you to go so far away." - </p> - <h3> - WHAT DID HE MEAN BY IT? - </h3> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - Dear Dairy, you will have to be burned, I daresay. Perhaps it is as well. - I have p o r e d out my H-e-a-r-t—— - </p> - <div style="height: 6em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Bab: A Sub-Deb, by Mary Roberts Rinehart - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BAB: A SUB-DEB *** - -***** This file should be named 366-h.htm or 366-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/366/ - -Produced by Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteers - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Bab: A Sub-Deb - -Author: Mary Roberts Rinehart - -Release Date: November, 1995 [EBook #366] -Last Updated: February 28, 2015 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BAB: A SUB-DEB *** - - - - -Produced by Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteers - - - - - - - - -BAB: A SUB-DEB - -By Mary Roberts Rinehart - -Author Of "K," "The Circular Staircase," "Kings, Queens And Pawns," Etc. - - - - -CONTENTS - - -I. THE SUB-DEB - -II. THEME: THE CELEBRITY - -III. HER DIARY - - - - -CHAPTER I. THE SUB-DEB: A THEME WRITTEN AND SUBMITTED IN LITERATURE -CLASS BY BARBARA PUTNAM ARCHIBALD, 1917. - - -DEFINITION OF A THEME: - -A theme is a piece of writing, either true or made up by the author, -and consisting of Introduction, Body and Conclusion. It should contain -Unity, Coherence, Emphasis, Perspecuity, Vivacity, and Precision. It may -be ornamented with dialogue, description and choice quotations. - -SUBJECT OF THEME: - -An interesting Incident of My Christmas Holadays. - -Introduction: - -"A tyrant's power in rigor is exprest."--DRYDEN. - -I have decided to relate with precision what occurred during my recent -Christmas holiday. Although I was away from this school only four days, -returning unexpectedly the day after Christmas, a number of Incidents -occurred which I believe I should narrate. - -It is only just and fair that the Upper House, at least, should know -of the injustice of my exile, and that it is all the result of -circumstances over which I had no control. - -For I make this appeal, and with good reason. Is it any fault of mine -that my sister Leila is 20 months older than I am? Naturally, no. - -Is it fair also, I ask, that in the best society, a girl is a Sub-Deb -the year before she comes out, and although mature in mind, and even -maturer in many ways than her older sister, the latter is treated as a -young lady, enjoying many privileges, while the former is treated as a -mere child, in spite, as I have observed, of only 20 months difference? -I wish to place myself on record that it is NOT fair. - -I shall go back, for a short time, to the way things were at home when I -was small. I was very strictly raised. With the exception of Tommy Gray, -who lives next door and only is about my age, I was never permitted to -know any of the Other Sex. - -Looking back, I am sure that the present way society is organized is -really to blame for everything. I am being frank, and that is the way I -feel. I was too strictly raised. I always had a governess tagging along. -Until I came here to school I had never walked to the corner of the next -street unattended. If it wasn't Mademoiselle, it was mother's maid, and -if it wasn't either of them, it was mother herself, telling me to hold -my toes out and my shoulder blades in. As I have said, I never knew any -of the Other Sex, except the miserable little beasts at dancing school. -I used to make faces at them when Mademoiselle was putting on my -slippers and pulling out my hair bow. They were totally uninteresting, -and I used to put pins in my sash, so that they would get scratched. - -Their pumps mostly squeaked, and nobody noticed it, although I have -known my parents to dismiss a Butler who creaked at the table. - -When I was sent away to school, I expected to learn something of life. -But I was disappointed. I do not desire to criticize this institution of -learning. It is an excellent one, as is shown by the fact that the best -families send their daughters here. But to learn life one must know -something of both sides of it, male and female. It was, therefore, a -matter of deep regret to me to find that, with the exception of the -dancing master, who has three children, and the gardener, there were no -members of the sterner sex to be seen. - -The athletic coach was a girl! As she has left now to be married, I -venture to say that she was not what Lord Chesterfield so euphoniously -termed "SUAVITER IN MODO, FORTATER IN RE." - -When we go out to walk we are taken to the country, and the three -matinees a year we see in the city are mostly Shakespeare, arranged for -the young. We are allowed only certain magazines, the Atlantic Monthly -and one or two others, and Barbara Armstrong was penalized for having a -framed photograph of her brother in running clothes. - -At the school dances we are compelled to dance with each other, and the -result is that when at home at Holiday parties I always try to lead, -which annoys the boys I dance with. - -Notwithstanding all this it is an excellent school. We learn a great -deal, and our dear principal is a most charming and erudite person. But -we see very little of life. And if school is a preparation for life, -where are we? - -Being here alone since the day after Christmas, I have had time to think -everything out. I am naturally a thinking person. And now I am no longer -indignant. I realize that I was wrong, and that I am only paying the -penalty that I deserve although I consider it most unfair to be given -French translation to do. I do not object to going to bed at nine -o'clock, although ten is the hour in the Upper House, because I have -time then to look back over things, and to reflect, to think. - -"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." -SHAKESPEARE. - -BODY OF THEME: - -I now approach the narrative of what happened during the first four days -of my Christmas Holiday. - -For a period before the fifteenth of December, I was rather worried. All -the girls in the school were getting new clothes for Christmas parties, -and their Families were sending on invitations in great numbers, to -various festivities that were to occur when they went home. - -Nothing, however, had come for me, and I was worried. But on the 16th -mother's visiting Secretary sent on four that I was to accept, with -tiped acceptances for me to copy and send. She also sent me the good -news that I was to have two party dresses, and I was to send on my -measurements for them. - -One of the parties was a dinner and theater party, to be given by Carter -Brooks on New Year's Day. Carter Brooks is the well-known Yale Center, -although now no longer such but selling advertizing, ecetera. - -It is tragic to think that, after having so long anticipated that -party, I am now here in sackcloth and ashes, which is a figure of speech -for the Peter Thompson uniform of the school, with plain white for -evenings and no jewelry. - -It was with anticipatory joy, therefore, that I sent the acceptances and -the desired measurements, and sat down to cheerfully while away the time -in studies and the various duties of school life, until the Holidays. - -However, I was not long to rest in piece, for in a few days I received a -letter from Carter Brooks, as follows: - - -DEAR BARBARA: It was sweet of you to write me so promptly, although I -confess to being rather astonished as well as delighted at being called -"Dearest." The signature too was charming, "Ever thine." But, dear -child, won't you write at once and tell me why the waist, bust and hip -measurements? And the request to have them really low in the neck? Ever -thine, CARTER. - -It will be perceived that I had sent him the letter to mother, by -mistake. - -I was very unhappy about it. It was not an auspicious way to begin the -holidays, especially the low neck. Also I disliked very much having told -him my waist measure which is large owing to basket ball. - -As I have stated before, I have known very few of the Other Sex, but -some of the girls had had more experience, and in the days before we -went home, we talked a great deal about things. Especially Love. I felt -that it was rather over-done, particularly in fiction. Also I felt and -observed at divers times that I would never marry. It was my intention -to go upon the stage, although modified since by what I am about to -relate. - -The other girls say that I look like Julia Marlowe. - -Some of the girls had boys who wrote to them, and one of them--I refrain -from giving her name had--a Code. You read every third word. He called -her "Cousin" and he would write like this: - - -Dear Cousin: I am well. Am just about crazy this week to go home. See -notice enclosed you football game. - -And so on and on. Only what it really said was "I am crazy to see you." - -(In giving this code I am betraying no secrets, as they have quarreled -and everything is now over between them.) - -As I had nobody, at that time, and as I had visions of a career, I was -a man-hater. I acknowledge that this was a pose. But after all, what is -life but a pose? - -"Stupid things!" I always said. "Nothing in their heads but football and -tobacco smoke. Women," I said, "are only their playthings. And when they -do grow up and get a little intelligence they use it in making money." - -There has been a story in the school--I got it from one of the little -girls--that I was disappointed in love in early youth, the object of my -attachment having been the tenor in our church choir at home. I daresay I -should have denied the soft impeachment, but I did not. It was, although -not appearing so at the time, my first downward step on the path that -leads to destruction. - -"The way of the transgressor is hard"--Bible. - -I come now to the momentous day of my return to my dear home for -Christmas. Father and my sister Leila, who from now on I will term -"Sis," met me at the station. Sis was very elegantly dressed, and she -said: - -"Hello, Kid," and turned her cheek for me to kiss. - -She is, as I have stated, but 20 months older than I, and depends -altogether on her clothes for her beauty. In the morning she is plain, -although having a good skin. She was trimmed up with a bouquet of -violets as large as a dishpan, and she covered them with her hands when -I kissed her. - -She was waved and powdered, and she had on a perfectly new outfit. And -I was shabby. That is the exact word. Shabby. If you have to hang your -entire wardrobe in a closet ten inches deep, and put it over you on cold -nights, with the steam heat shut off at ten o'clock, it does not make it -look any better. - -My father has always been my favorite member of the family, and he was -very glad to see me. He has a great deal of tact, also, and later on he -slipped ten dollars in my purse in the motor. I needed it very much, -as after I had paid the porter and bought luncheon, I had only three -dollars left and an I. O. U. from one of the girls for seventy-five -cents, which this may remind her, if it is read in class, she has -forgotten. - -"Good heavens, Barbara," Sis said, while I hugged father, "you certainly -need to be pressed." - -"I daresay I'll be the better for a hot iron," I retorted, "but at least -I shan't need it on my hair." My hair is curly while hers is straight. - -"Boarding school wit!" she said, and stocked to the motor. - -Mother was in the car and glad to see me, but as usual she managed to -restrain her enthusiasm. She put her hands over some orchids she was -wearing when I kissed her. She and Sis were on their way to something or -other. - -"Trimmed up like Easter hats, you two!" I said. - -"School has not changed you, I fear, Barbara," mother observed. "I hope -you are studying hard." - -"Exactly as hard as I have to. No more, no less," I regret to -confess that I replied. And I saw Sis and mother exchange glances of -significance. - -We dropped them at the reception and father went to his office and I -went on home alone. And all at once I began to be embittered. Sis had -everything, and what had I? And when I got home, and saw that Sis had -had her room done over, and ivory toilet things on her dressing table, -and two perfectly huge boxes of candy on a stand and a ball gown laid -out on the bed, I almost wept. - -My own room was just as I had left it. It had been the night nursery, -and there was still the dent in the mantel where I had thrown a hair -brush at Sis, and the ink spot on the carpet at the foot of the bed, and -everything. - -Mademoiselle had gone, and Hannah, mother's maid, came to help me off -with my things. I slammed the door in her face, and sat down on the bed -and RAGED. - -They still thought I was a little girl. They PATRONIZED me. I would -hardly have been surprised if they had sent up a bread and milk supper -on a tray. It was then and there that I made up my mind to show them -that I was no longer a mere child. That the time was gone when they -could shut me up in the nursery and forget me. I was seventeen years and -eleven days old, and Juliet, in Shakespeare, was only sixteen when she -had her well-known affair with Romeo. - -I had no plan then. It was not until the next afternoon that the thing -sprung (sprang?) fullblown from the head of Jove. - -The evening was rather dreary. The family was going out, but not until -nine thirty, and mother and Leila went over my clothes. They sat, Sis -in pink chiffon and mother in black and silver, and Hannah took out my -things and held them up. I was obliged to silently sit by, while my rags -and misery were exposed. - -"Why this open humiliation?" I demanded at last. "I am the family -Cinderella, I admit it. But it isn't necessary to lay so much emphasis -on it, is it?" - -"Don't be sarcastic, Barbara," said mother. "You are still only a child, -and a very untidy child at that. What do you do with your elbows to rub -them through so? It must have taken patience and application." - -"Mother" I said, "am I to have the party dresses?" - -"Two. Very simple." - -"Low in the neck?" - -"Certainly not. A small v, perhaps." - -"I've got a good neck." She rose impressively. - -"You amaze and shock me, Barbara," she said coldly. - -"I shouldn't have to wear tulle around my shoulders to hide the bones!" -I retorted. "Sis is rather thin." - -"You are a very sharp-tongued little girl," mother said, looking up at -me. I am two inches taller than she is. - -"Unless you learn to curb yourself, there will be no parties for you, -and no party dresses." - -This was the speech that broke the camel's back. I could endure no more. - -"I think," I said, "that I shall get married and end everything." - -Need I explain that I had no serious intention of taking the fatal step? -But it was not deliberate mendacity. It was despair. - -Mother actually went white. She clutched me by the arm and shook me. - -"What are you saying?" she demanded. - -"I think you heard me, mother" I said, very politely. I was however -thinking hard. - -"Marry whom? Barbara, answer me." - -"I don't know. Anybody." - -"She's trying to frighten you, mother" Sis said. "There isn't anybody. -Don't let her fool you." - -"Oh, isn't there?" I said in a dark and portentous manner. - -Mother gave me a long look, and went out. I heard her go into father's -dressing-room. But Sis sat on my bed and watched me. - -"Who is it, Bab?" she asked. "The dancing teacher? Or your riding -master? Or the school plumber?" - -"Guess again." - -"You're just enough of a little simpleton to get tied up to some wretched -creature and disgrace us all." - -I wish to state here that until that moment I had no intention of going -any further with the miserable business. I am naturally truthful, -and deception is hateful to me. But when my sister uttered the above -disparaging remark I saw that, to preserve my own dignity, which I value -above precious stones, I would be compelled to go on. - -"I'm perfectly mad about him," I said. "And he's crazy about me." - -"I'd like very much to know," Sis said, as she stood up and stared at -me, "how much you are making up and how much is true." - -None the less, I saw that she was terrified. The family kitten, to speak -in allegory, had become a lion and showed its claws. - -When she had gone out I tried to think of some one to hang a love affair -to. But there seemed to be nobody. They knew perfectly well that the -dancing master had one eye and three children, and that the clergyman at -school was elderly, with two wives. One dead. - -I searched my past, but it was blameless. It was empty and bare, and -as I looked back and saw how little there had been in it but imbibing -wisdom and playing basket-ball and tennis, and typhoid fever when I -was fourteen and almost having to have my head shaved, a great wave of -bitterness agitated me. - -"Never again," I observed to myself with firmness. "Never again, if I -have to invent a member of the Other Sex." - -At that time, however, owing to the appearance of Hannah with a mending -basket, I got no further than his name. - -It was Harold. I decided to have him dark, with a very small black -mustache, and passionate eyes. I felt, too, that he would be jealous. -The eyes would be of the smoldering type, showing the green-eyed -monster beneath. - -I was very much cheered up. At least they could not ignore me any more, -and I felt that they would see the point. If I was old enough to have -a lover--especially a jealous one with the aforementioned eyes--I was old -enough to have the necks of my frocks cut out. - -While they were getting their wraps on in the lower hall, I counted my -money. I had thirteen dollars. It was enough for a plan I was beginning -to have in mind. - -"Go to bed early, Barbara," mother said when they were ready to go out. - -"You don't mind if I write a letter, do you?" - -"To whom?" - -"Oh, just a letter," I said, and she stared at me coldly. - -"I daresay you will write it, whether I consent or not. Leave it on the -hall table, and it will go out with the morning mail." - -"I may run out to the box with it." - -"I forbid your doing anything of the sort." - -"Oh, very well," I responded meekly. - -"If there is such haste about it, give it to Hannah to mail." - -"Very well," I said. - -She made an excuse to see Hannah before she left, and I knew THAT I WAS -BEING WATCHED. I was greatly excited, and happier than I had been for -weeks. But when I had settled myself in the library, with the paper -in front of me, I could not think of anything to say in a letter. So I -wrote a poem instead.= - -```"To H---- - -```"Dear love: you seem so far away, - -````I would that you were near. - -```I do so long to hear you say - -```Again, 'I love you, dear.'= - -```"Here all is cold and drear and strange - -````With none who with me tarry, - -```I hope that soon we can arrange - -````To run away and marry."= - -The last verse did not scan, exactly, but I wished to use the word -"marry" if possible. It would show, I felt, that things were really -serious and impending. A love affair is only a love affair, but marriage -is marriage, and the end of everything. - -It was at that moment, 10 o'clock, that the strange thing occurred which -did not seem strange at all at the time, but which developed into so -great a mystery later on. Which was to actually threaten my reason and -which, flying on winged feet, was to send me back here to school the -day after Christmas and put my seed pearl necklace in the safe deposit -vault. Which was very unfair, for what had my necklace to do with it? -And just now, when I need comfort, it--the necklace--would help to -relieve my exile. - -Hannah brought me in a cup of hot milk, with a Valentine's malted milk -tablet dissolved in it. - -As I stirred it around, it occurred to me that Valentine would be a good -name for Harold. On the spot I named him Harold Valentine, and I wrote -the name on the envelope that had the poem inside, and addressed it to -the town where this school gets its mail. - -It looked well written out. "Valentine," also, is a word that naturally -connects itself with AFFAIRS DE COUR. And I felt that I was safe, for as -there was no Harold Valentine, he could not call for the letter at the -post office, and would therefore not be able to cause me any trouble, -under any circumstances. And, furthermore. I knew that Hannah would not -mail the letter anyhow, but would give it to mother. So, even if there -was a Harold Valentine, he would never get it. - -Comforted by these reflections, I drank my malted milk, ignorant of -the fact that destiny, "which never swerves, nor yields to men the -helm"--Emerson, was stocking at my heels. - -Between sips, as the expression goes, I addressed the envelope to Harold -Valentine, and gave it to Hannah. She went out the front door with it, -as I had expected, but I watched from a window, and she turned right -around and went in the area way. So THAT was all right. - -It had worked like a Charm. I could tear my hair now when I think how -well it worked. I ought to have been suspicious for that very reason. -When things go very well with me at the start, it is a sure sign that -they are going to blow up eventually. - -Mother and Sis slept late the next morning, and I went out stealthily -and did some shopping. First I bought myself a bunch of violets, with a -white rose in the center, and I printed on the card: - -"My love is like a white, white rose. H." And sent it to myself. - -It was deception, I acknowledge, but having put my hand to the plow, -I did not intend to steer a crooked course. I would go straight to the -end. I am like that in everything I do. But, on deliberating things -over, I felt that Violets, alone and unsupported, were not enough. I felt -that If I had a photograph, it would make everything more real. After -all, what is a love affair without a picture of the Beloved Object? - -So I bought a photograph. It was hard to find what I wanted, but I got -it at last in a stationer's shop, a young man in a checked suit with a -small mustache--the young man, of course, not the suit. Unluckily, he -was rather blonde, and had a dimple in his chin. But he looked exactly -as though his name ought to be Harold. - -I may say here that I chose "Harold," not because it is a favorite name -of mine, but because it is romantic in sound. Also because I had never -known any one named Harold and it seemed only discrete. - -I took it home in my muff and put it under my pillow where Hannah would -find it and probably take it to mother. I wanted to buy a ring too, to -hang on a ribbon around my neck. But the violets had made a fearful hole -in my thirteen dollars. - -I borrowed a stub pen at the stationer's and I wrote on the photograph, -in large, sprawling letters, "To YOU from ME." - -"There," I said to myself, when I put it under the pillow. "You look -like a photograph, but you are really a bomb-shell." - -As things eventuated, it was. More so, indeed. - -Mother sent for me when I came in. She was sitting in front of her -mirror, having the vibrator used on her hair, and her manner was -changed. I guessed that there had been a family counsel over the poem, -and that they had decided to try kindness. - -"Sit down, Barbara," she said. "I hope you were not lonely last night?" - -"I am never lonely, mother. I always have things to think about." - -I said this in a very pathetic tone. - -"What sort of things?" mother asked, rather sharply. - -"Oh--things," I said vaguely. "Life is such a mess, isn't it?" - -"Certainly not. Unless one makes it so." - -"But it is so difficult. Things come up and--and it's hard to know what -to do. The only way, I suppose, is to be true to one's belief in one's -self." - -"Take that thing off my head and go out, Hannah," mother snapped. "Now -then, Barbara, what in the world has come over you?" - -"Over me? Nothing." - -"You are being a silly child." - -"I am no longer a child, mother. I am seventeen. And at seventeen there -are problems. After all, one's life is one's own. One must decide----" - -"Now, Barbara, I am not going to have any nonsense. You must put that -man out of your head." - -"Man? What man?" - -"You think you are in love with some driveling young Fool. I'm not -blind, or an idiot. And I won't have it." - -"I have not said that there is anyone, have I?" I said in a gentle -voice. "But if there was, just what would you propose to do, mother?" - -"If you were three years younger I'd propose to spank you." Then I -think she saw that she was taking the wrong method, for she changed her -tactics. "It's the fault of that silly school," she said. (Note: -These are my mother's words, not mine.) "They are hotbeds of sickly -sentimentality. They----" - -And just then the violets came, addressed to me. Mother opened them -herself, her mouth set. "My love is like a white, white rose," she said. -"Barbara, do you know who sent these?" - -"Yes, mother," I said meekly. This was quite true. I did. - -I am indeed sorry to record that here my mother lost her temper, and -there was no end of a fuss. It ended by mother offering me a string of -seed pearls for Christmas, and my party dresses cut V front and back, if -I would, as she phrased it, "put him out of my silly head." - -"I shall have to write one letter, mother," I said, "to--to break things -off. I cannot tear myself out of another's life without a word." - -She sniffed. - -"Very well," she said. "One letter. I trust you to make it only one." - -I come now to the next day. How true it is, that "Man's life is but a -jest, a dream, a shadow, bubble, air, a vapor at the best!" - -I spent the morning with mother at the dressmakers and she chose two -perfectly spiffing things, one of white chiffon over silk, made modified -Empire, with little bunches of roses here and there on it, and when she -and the dressmaker were haggling over the roses, I took the scissors and -cut the neck of the lining two inches lower in front. The effect was -positively impressive. The other was blue over orchid, a perfectly -passionate combination. - -When we got home some of the girls had dropped in, and Carter Brooks -and Sis were having tea in the den. I am perfectly sure that Sis threw -a cigarette in the fire when I went in. When I think of my sitting here -alone, when I have done NOTHING, and Sis playing around and smoking -cigarettes, and nothing said, all for a difference of 20 months, it -makes me furious. - -"Let's go in and play with the children, Leila," he said. "I'm feeling -young today." - -Which was perfectly silly. He is not Methuselah. Although thinking -himself so, or almost. - -Well, they went into the drawing room. Elaine Adams was there waiting -for me, and Betty Anderson and Jane Raleigh. And I hadn't been in the -room five minutes before I knew that they all knew. It turned out later -that Hannah was engaged to the Adams' butler, and she had told him, -and he had told Elaine's governess, who is still there and does the -ordering, and Elaine sends her stockings home for her to darn. - -Sis had told Carter, too, I saw that, and among them they had rather -a good time. Carter sat down at the piano and struck a few chords, -chanting "My Love is like a white, white rose." - -"Only you know" he said, turning to me, "that's wrong. It ought to be a -'red, red rose.'" - -"Certainly not. The word is 'white.'" - -"Oh, is it?" he said, with his head on one side. "Strange that both you -and Harold should have got it wrong." - -I confess to a feeling of uneasiness at that moment. - -Tea came, and Carter insisted on pouring. - -"I do so love to pour!" he said. "Really, after a long day's shopping, -tea is the only thing that keeps me going until dinner. Cream or lemon, -Leila dear?" - -"Both," Sis said in an absent manner, with her eyes on me. "Barbara, -come into the den a moment. I want to show you mother's Christmas gift." - -She stocked in ahead of me, and lifted a book from the table. Under it -was the photograph. - -"You wretched child!" she said. "Where did you get that?" - -"That's not your affair, is it?" - -"I'm going to make it my affair. Did he give it to you?" - -"Have you read what's written on it?" - -"Where did you meet him?" - -I hesitated because I am by nature truthful. But at last I said: - -"At school." - -"Oh," she said slowly. "So you met him at school! What was he doing -there? Teaching elocution?" - -"Elocution!" - -"This is Harold, is it?" - -"Certainly." Well, he WAS Harold, if I chose to call him that, wasn't -he? Sis gave a little sigh. - -"You're quite hopeless, Bab. And, although I'm perfectly sure you want -me to take the thing to mother, I'll do nothing of the sort." - -SHE FLUNG IT INTO THE FIRE. I was raging. It had cost me a dollar. It -was quite brown when I got it out, and a corner was burned off. But I -got it. - -"I'll thank you to burn your own things," I said with dignity. And I -went back to the drawing room. - -The girls and Carter Brooks were talking in an undertone when I got -there. I knew it was about me. And Jane came over to me and put her arm -around me. - -"You poor thing!" she said. "Just fight it out. We're all with you." - -"I'm so helpless, Jane." I put all the despair I could into my voice. -For after all, if they were going to talk about my private affairs -behind my back, I felt that they might as well have something to talk -about. As Jane's second cousin once removed is in this school and as -Jane will probably write her all about it, I hope this theme is read -aloud in class, so she will get it all straight. Jane is imaginative and -may have a wrong idea of things. - -"Don't give in. Let them bully you. They can't really do anything. And -they're scared. Leila is positively sick." - -"I've promised to write and break it off," I said in a tense tone. - -"If he really loves you," said Jane, "the letter won't matter." There -was a thrill in her voice. Had I not been uneasy at my deceit, I to -would have thrilled. - -Some fresh muffins came in just then and I was starving. But I waved -them away, and stood staring at the fire. - -I am writing all of this as truthfully as I can. I am not defending -myself. What I did I was driven to, as any one can see. It takes a real -shock to make the average family wake up to the fact that the youngest -daughter is not the family baby at seventeen. All I was doing was -furnishing the shock. If things turned out badly, as they did, it -was because I rather overdid the thing. That is all. My motives were -perfectly irreproachable. - -Well, they fell on the muffins like pigs, and I could hardly stand it. -So I wandered into the den, and it occurred to me to write the letter -then. I felt that they all expected me to do something anyhow. - -If I had never written the wretched letter things would be better now. -As I say, I overdid. But everything had gone so smoothly all day that I -was deceived. But the real reason was a new set of furs. I had secured -the dresses and the promise of the necklace on a poem and a photograph, -and I thought that a good love letter might bring a muff. It all shows -that it does not do to be grasping. - -HAD I NOT WRITTEN THE LETTER, THERE WOULD HAVE BEEN NO TRAGEDY. - -But I wrote it and if I do say it, it was a LETTER. I commenced it -"Darling," and I said I was mad to see him, and that I would always love -him. But I told him that the family objected to him, and that this was -to end everything between us. They had started the phonograph in the -library, and were playing "The Rosary." So I ended with a verse from -that. It was really a most affecting letter. I almost wept over it -myself, because, if there had been a Harold, it would have broken his -Heart. - -Of course I meant to give it to Hannah to mail, and she would give it to -mother. Then, after the family had read it and it had got in its work, -including the set of furs, they were welcome to mail it. It would go -to the dead letter office, since there was no Harold. It could not come -back to me, for I had only signed it "Barbara." I had it all figured out -carefully. It looked as if I had everything to gain, including the furs, -and nothing to lose. Alas, how little I knew! - -"The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft allay." Burns. - -Carter Brooks ambled into the room just as I sealed it and stood gazing -down at me. - -"You're quite a Person these days, Bab," he said. "I suppose all the -customary Xmas kisses are being saved this year for what's his name." - -"I don't understand you." - -"For Harold. You know, Bab, I think I could bear up better if his name -wasn't Harold." - -"I don't see how it concerns you," I responded. - -"Don't you? With me crazy about you for lo, these many years! First as -a baby, then as a sub-sub-deb, and now as a sub-deb. Next year, when you -are a real debutante----" - -"You've concealed your infatuation bravely." - -"It's been eating me inside. A green and yellow melancholy--hello! A -letter to him!" - -"Why, so it is," I said in a scornful tone. - -He picked it up, and looked at it. Then he started and stared at me. - -"No!" he said. "It isn't possible! It isn't old Valentine!" - -Positively, my knees got cold. I never had such a shock. - -"It--it certainly is Harold Valentine," I said feebly. - -"Old Hal!" he muttered. "Well, who would have thought it! And not a word -to me about it, the secretive old duffer!" He held out his hand to me. -"Congratulations, Barbara," he said heartily. "Since you absolutely -refuse me, you couldn't do better. He's the finest chap I know. If it's -Valentine the family is kicking up such a row about, you leave it to -me. I'll tell them a few things." - -I was stunned. Would anybody have believed it? To pick a name out of the -air, so to speak, and off a malted milk tablet, and then to find that it -actually belonged to some one--was sickening. - -"It may not be the one you know" I said desperately. "It--it's a common -name. There must be plenty of Valentines." - -"Sure there are, lace paper and cupids--lots of that sort. But there's -only one Harold Valentine, and now you've got him pinned to the wall! -I'll tell you what I'll do, Barbara. I'm a real friend of yours. Always -have been. Always will be. The chances are against the family letting -him get this letter. I'll give it to him." - -"GIVE it to him?" - -"Why, he's here. You know that, don't you? He's in town over the -holidays." - -"Oh, no!" I said in a gasping Voice. - -"Sorry," he said. "Probably meant it as a surprise to you. Yes, he's -here, with bells on." - -He then put the letter in his pocket before my very eyes, and sat down -on the corner of the writing table! - -"You don't know how all this has relieved my mind," he said. "The poor -chap's been looking down. Not interested in anything. Of course this -explains it. He's the sort to take Love hard. At college he took -everything hard--like to have died once with German measles." - -He picked up a book, and the charred picture was underneath. He pounced -on it. "Pounced" is exactly the right word. - -"Hello!" he said, "family again, I suppose. Yes, it's Hal, all right. -Well, who would have thought it!" - -My last hope died. Then and there I had a nervous chill. I was compelled -to prop my chin on my hand to keep my teeth from chattering. - -"Tell you what I'll do," he said, in a perfectly cheerful tone that -made me cold all over. "I'll be the cupid for your Valentine. See? -Far be it from me to see love's young dream wiped out by a hardhearted -family. I'm going to see this thing through. You count on me, Barbara. -I'll arrange that you get a chance to see each other, family or no -family. Old Hal has been looking down his nose long enough. When's your -first party?" - -"Tomorrow night," I gasped out. - -"Very well. Tomorrow night it is. It's the Adams', isn't it, at the -Club?" - -I could only nod. I was beyond speaking. I saw it all clearly. I had -been wicked in deceiving my dear family and now I was to pay the -penalty. He would know at once that I had made him up, or rather he did -not know me and therefore could not possibly be in Love with me. And -what then? - -"But look here," he said, "if I take him there as Valentine, the family -will be on, you know. We'd better call him something else. Got any -choice as to a name?" - -"Carter" I said frantically. "I think I'd better tell you. I----" - -"How about calling him Grosvenor?". he babbled on. "Grosvenor's a good -name. Ted Grosvenor--that ought to hit them between the eyes. It's going -to be rather a lark, Miss Bab!" - -And of course just then mother came in, and the Brooks idiot went in -and poured her a cup of tea, with his little finger stuck out at a right -angel, and every time he had a chance he winked at me. - -I wanted to die. - -When they had all gone home it seemed like a bad dream, the whole thing. -It could not be true. I went upstairs and manicured my nails, which -usually comforts me, and put my hair up like Leila's. - -But nothing could calm me. I had made my own fate, and must lie in it. -And just then Hannah slipped in with a box in her hands and her eyes -frightened. - -"Oh, Miss Barbara!" she said. "If your mother sees this!" - -I dropped my manicure scissors, I was so alarmed. But I opened the box, -and clutched the envelope inside. It said "from H----." Then Carter was -right. There was an H after all! - -Hannah was rolling her hands in her apron and her eyes were popping out -of her head. - -"I just happened to see the boy at the door," she said, with her silly -teeth chattering. "Oh, Miss Barbara, if Patrick had answered the bell! -What shall we do with them?" - -"You take them right down the back stairs," I said. "As if it was an -empty box. And put it outside with the waist papers. Quick." - -She gathered the thing up, but of course mother had to come in just -then and they met in the doorway. She saw it all in one glance, and she -snatched the card out of my hand. - -"From H----!" she read. "Take them out, Hannah, and throw them away. No, -don't do that. Put them on the Servant's table." Then, when the door -had closed, she turned to me. "Just one more ridiculous episode of this -kind, Barbara," she said, "and you go back to school--Christmas or no -Christmas." - -I will say this. If she had shown the faintest softness, I'd have told -her the whole thing. But she did not. She looked exactly as gentle as a -macadam pavement. I am one who has to be handled with gentleness. A -kind word will do anything with me, but harsh treatment only makes me -determined. I then become inflexible as iron. - -That is what happened then. Mother took the wrong course and threatened, -which as I have stated is fatal, as far as I am concerned. I refused -to yield an inch, and it ended in my having my dinner in my room, and -mother threatening to keep me home from the party the next night. It was -not a threat, if she had only known it. - -But when the next day went by, with no more flowers, and nothing -apparently wrong except that mother was very dignified with me, I began -to feel better. Sis was out all day, and in the afternoon Jane called me -up. - -"How are you?" she said. - -"Oh, I'm all right." - -"Everything smooth?" - -"Well, smooth enough." - -"Oh, Bab," she said. "I'm just crazy about it. All the girls are." - -"I knew they were crazy about something." - -"You poor thing, no wonder you are bitter," she said. "Somebody's -coming. I'll have to ring off. But don't you give in, Bab. Not an inch. -Marry your heart's desire, no matter who butts in." - -Well, you can see how it was. Even then I could have told father and -mother, and got out of it somehow. But all the girls knew about it, and -there was nothing to do but go on. - -All that day every time I thought of the Party my heart missed a beat. -But as I would not lie and say that I was ill--I am naturally truthful, -as far as possible--I was compelled to go, although my heart was -breaking. - -I am not going to write much about the party, except a slight -description, which properly belongs in every theme. - -All Parties for the school set are alike. The boys range from -knickerbockers to college men in their freshmen year, and one is likely -to dance half the evening with youngsters that one saw last in their -perambulators. It is rather startling to have about six feet of black -trouser legs and white shirt front come and ask one to dance and then -to get one's eyes raised as far as the top of what looks like a -particularly thin pair of tree trunks and see a little boy's face. - -As this theme is to contain description I shall describe the ball room -of the club where the eventful party occurred. - -The ball room is white, with red hangings, and looks like a Charlotte -Russe with maraschino cherries. Over the fireplace they had put "Merry -Christmas," in electric lights, and the chandeliers were made into -Christmas trees and hung with colored balls. One of the balls fell -off during the cotillion, and went down the back of one of the girl's -dresses, and they were compelled to up-end her and shake her out in the -dressing room. - -The favors were insignificant, as usual. It is not considered good taste -to have elaborate things for the school crowd. But when I think of the -silver things Sis always brought home, and remember that I took away -about six Christmas stockings, a toy balloon, four whistles, a wooden -canary in a cage and a box of talcum powder, I feel that things are not -fair in this World. - -Hannah went with me, and in the motor she said: - -"Oh, Miss Barbara, do be careful. The family is that upset." - -"Don't be a silly," I said. "And if the family is half as upset as I -am, it is throwing a fit at this minute." - -We were early, of course. My mother believes in being on time, and -besides, she and Sis wanted the motor later. And while Hannah was on her -knees taking off my carriage boots, I suddenly decided that I could not -go down. Hannah turned quite pale when I told her. - -"What will your mother say?" she said. "And you with your new dress and -all! It's as much as my life is worth to take you back home now, Miss -Barbara." - -Well, that was true enough. There would be a riot if I went home, and I -knew it. - -"I'll see the steward and get you a cup of tea," Hannah said. "Tea sets -me up like anything when I'm nervous. Now please be a good girl, Miss -Barbara, and don't run off, or do anything foolish." - -She wanted me to promise, but I would not, although I could not have run -anywhere. My legs were entirely numb. - -In a half hour at the utmost I knew all would be known, and very likely -I would be a homeless wanderer on the earth. For I felt that never, never -could I return to my dear ones, when my terrible actions became known. - -Jane came in while I was sipping the tea and she stood off and eyed me -with sympathy. - -"I don't wonder, Bab!" she said. "The idea of your family acting so -outrageously! And look here" She bent over me and whispered it. "Don't -trust Carter too much. He is perfectly infatuated with Leila, and he -will play into the hands of the enemy. BE CAREFUL." - -"Loathsome creature!" was my response. "As for trusting him, I trust no -one, these days." - -"I don't wonder your faith is gone," she observed. But she was talking -with one eye on a mirror. - -"Pink makes me pale," she said. "I'll bet the maid has a drawer full of -rouge. I'm going to see. How about a touch for you? You look ghastly." - -"I don't care how I look," I said, recklessly. "I think I'll sprain my -ankle and go home. Anyhow I am not allowed to use rouge." - -"Not allowed!" she observed. "What has that got to do with it? I don't -understand you, Bab; you are totally changed." - -"I am suffering," I said. I was to. - -Just then the maid brought me a folded note. Hannah was hanging up my -wraps, and did not see it. Jane's eyes fairly bulged. - -"I hope you have saved the cotillion for me," it said. And it was -signed. H----! - -"Good gracious," Jane said breathlessly. "Don't tell me he is here, and -that that's from him!" - -I had to swallow twice before I could speak. Then I said, solemnly: - -"He is here, Jane. He has followed me. I am going to dance the cotillion -with him although I shall probably be disinherited and thrown out into -the world, as a result." - -I have no recollection whatever of going down the staircase and into the -ballroom. Although I am considered rather brave, and once saved one of -the smaller girls from drowning, as I need not remind the school, when -she was skating on thin ice, I was frightened. I remember that, inside -the door, Jane said "Courage!" in a low tense voice, and that I stepped -on somebody's foot and said "Certainly" instead of apologizing. The -shock of that brought me around somewhat, and I managed to find Mrs. -Adams and Elaine, and not disgrace myself. Then somebody at my elbow -said: - -"All right, Barbara. Everything's fixed." - -It was Carter. - -"He's waiting in the corner over there," he said. "We'd better go -through the formality of an introduction. He's positively twittering -with excitement." - -"Carter" I said desperately. "I want to tell you something first. I've -got myself in an awful mess. I----" - -"Sure you have," he said. "That's why I'm here, to help you out. Now -you be calm, and there's no reason why you two can't have the evening of -your young lives. I wish I could fall in love. It must be bully." - -"Carter----!" - -"Got his note, didn't you?" - -"Yes, I----" - -"Here we are," said Carter. "Miss Archibald, I would like to present Mr. -Grosvenor." - -Somebody bowed in front of me, and then straightened up and looked down -at me. IT WAS THE MAN OF THE PICTURE, LITTLE MUSTACHE AND ALL. My mouth -went perfectly dry. - -It is all very well to talk about Romance and Love, and all that sort -of thing. But I have concluded that amorous experiences are not always -agreeable. And I have discovered something else. The moment anybody is -crazy about me I begin to hate him. It is curious, but I am like that. I -only care as long as they, or he, is far away. And the moment I touched -H's white kid glove, I knew I loathed him. - -"Now go to it, you two," Carter said in cautious tone. "Don't be -conspicuous. That's all." - -And he left us. - -"Suppose we dance this. Shall we?" said H. And the next moment we were -gliding off. He danced very well. I will say that. But at the time I was -too much occupied with hating him to care about dancing, or anything. -But I was compelled by my pride to see things through. We are a very -proud family and never show our troubles, though our hearts be torn -with anguish. - -"Think," he said, when we had got away from the band, "think of our -being together like this!" - -"It's not so surprising, is it? We've got to be together if we are -dancing." - -"Not that. Do you know, I never knew so long a day as this has been. The -thought of meeting you--er--again, and all that." - -"You needn't rave for my benefit," I said freezingly. "You know -perfectly well that you never saw me before." - -"Barbara! With your dear little letter in my breast pocket at this -moment!" - -"I didn't know men had breast pockets in their evening clothes." - -"Oh well, have it your own way. I'm too happy to quarrel," he said. "How -well you dance--only, let me lead, won't you? How strange it is to think -that we have never danced together before!" - -"We must have a talk," I said desperately. "Can't we go somewhere, away -from the noise?" - -"That would be conspicuous, wouldn't it, under the circumstances? If we -are to overcome the family objection to me, we'll have to be cautious, -Barbara." - -"Don't call me Barbara," I snapped. "I know perfectly well what you -think of me, and I----" - -"I think you are wonderful," he said. "Words fail me when I try to tell -you what I am thinking. You've saved the cotillion for me, haven't you? -If not, I'm going to claim it anyhow. IT IS MY RIGHT." - -He said it in the most determined manner, as if everything was settled. -I felt like a rat in a trap, and Carter, watching from a corner, looked -exactly like a cat. If he had taken his hand in its white glove and -washed his face with it, I would hardly have been surprised. - -The music stopped, and somebody claimed me for the next. Jane came up, -too, and clutched my arm. - -"You lucky thing!" she said. "He's perfectly handsome. And oh, Bab, he's -wild about you. I can see it in his eyes." - -"Don't pinch, Jane," I said coldly. "And don't rave. He's an idiot." - -She looked at me with her mouth open. - -"Well, if you don't want him, pass him on to me," she said, and walked -away. - -It was too silly, after everything that had happened, to dance the next -dance with Willie Graham, who is still in knickerbockers, and a full -head shorter than I am. But that's the way with a Party for the school -crowd, as I've said before. They ask all ages, from perambulators up, -and of course the little boys all want to dance with the older girls. It -is deadly stupid. - -But H seemed to be having a good time. He danced a lot with Jane, who -is a wretched dancer, with no sense of time whatever. Jane is not pretty, -but she has nice eyes, and I am not afraid, second cousin once removed -or no second cousin once removed, to say she used them. - -Altogether, it was a terrible evening. I danced three dances out of four -with knickerbockers, and one with old Mr. Adams, who is fat and rotates -his partner at the corners by swinging her on his waistcoat. Carter did -not dance at all, and every time I tried to speak to him he was taking a -crowd of the little girls to the fruit-punch bowl. - -I determined to have things out with H during the cotillion, and tell -him that I would never marry him, that I would die first. But I was -favored a great deal, and when we did have a chance the music was making -such a noise that I would have had to shout. Our chairs were next to the -band. - -But at last we had a minute, and I went out to the verandah, which was -closed in with awnings. He had to follow, of course, and I turned and -faced him. - -"Now" I said, "this has got to stop." - -"I don't understand you, Bab." - -"You do, perfectly well," I stormed. "I can't stand it. I am going -crazy." - -"Oh," he said slowly. "I see. I've been dancing too much with the -little girl with the eyes! Honestly, Bab, I was only doing it to disarm -suspicion. MY EVERY THOUGHT IS OF YOU." - -"I mean," I said, as firmly as I could, "that this whole thing has got -to stop. I can't stand it." - -"Am I to understand," he said solemnly, "that you intend to end -everything?" - -I felt perfectly wild and helpless. - -"After that Letter!" he went on. "After that sweet Letter! You said, you -know, that you were mad to see me, and that--it is almost too sacred -to repeat, even to YOU--that you would always love me. After that -Confession I refuse to agree that all is over. It can NEVER be over." - -"I daresay I am losing my mind," I said. "It all sounds perfectly -natural. But it doesn't mean anything. There CAN'T be any Harold -Valentine; because I made him up. But there is, so there must be. And I -am going crazy." - -"Look here," he stormed, suddenly quite raving, and throwing out his -right hand. It would have been terribly dramatic, only he had a glass of -punch in it. "I am not going to be played with. And you are not going to -jilt me without a reason. Do you mean to deny everything? Are you going -to say, for instance, that I never sent you any violets? Or gave you my -Photograph, with an--er--touching inscription on it?" Then, appealingly, -"You can't mean to deny that Photograph, Bab!" - -And then that lanky wretch of an Eddie Perkins brought me a toy balloon, -and I had to dance, with my heart crushed. - -Nevertheless, I ate a fair supper. I felt that I needed Strength. It was -quite a grown-up supper, with bullion and creamed chicken and baked ham -and sandwiches, among other things. But of course they had to show it -was a 'kid' party, after all. For instead of coffee we had milk. - -Milk! When I was going through a tragedy. For if it is not a tragedy -to be engaged to a man one never saw before, what is it? - -All through the refreshments I could feel that his eyes were on me. And -I hated him. It was all well enough for Jane to say he was handsome. She -wasn't going to have to marry him. I detest dimples in chins. I always -have. And anybody could see that it was his first mustache, and -soft, and that he took it round like a mother pushing a new baby in a -perambulator. It was sickening. - -I left just after supper. He did not see me when I went upstairs, but -he had missed me, for when Hannah and I came down, he was at the door, -waiting. Hannah was loaded down with silly favors, and lagged behind, -which gave him a chance to speak to me. I eyed him coldly and tried to -pass him, but I had no chance. - -"I'll see you tomorrow, DEAREST," he whispered. - -"Not if I can help it," I said, looking straight ahead. Hannah had -dropped a stocking--not her own. One of the Christmas favors--and was -fumbling about for it. - -"You are tired and unnerved to-night, Bab. When I have seen your father -tomorrow, and talked to him----" - -"Don't you dare to see my father." - -"----and when he has agreed to what I propose," he went on, without -paying any attention to what I had said, "you will be calmer. We can plan -things." - -Hannah came puffing up then, and he helped us into the motor. He was -very careful to see that we were covered with the robes, and he tucked -Hannah's feet in. She was awfully flattered. Old Fool! And she babbled -about him until I wanted to slap her. - -"He's a nice young man. Miss Bab," she said. "That is, if he's the One. -And he has nice manners. So considerate. Many a party I've taken your -sister to, and never before----" - -"I wish you'd shut up, Hannah," I said. "He's a pig, and I hate him." - -She sulked after that, and helped me out of my things at home without a -word. When I was in bed, however, and she was hanging up my clothes, she -said: - -"I don't know what's got into you, Miss Barbara. You are that cross that -there's no living with you." - -"Oh, go away," I said. - -"And what's more," she added, "I don't know but what your mother ought -to know about these goings on. You're only a little girl, with all your -high and mightiness, and there's going to be no scandal in this family -if I can help it." - -I put the bedclothes over my head, and she went out. - -But of course I could not sleep. Sis was not home yet, or mother, and I -went into Sis's room and got a novel from her table. It was the story of -a woman who had married a man in a hurry, and without really loving him, -and when she had been married a year, and hated the very way her husband -drank his coffee and cut the ends off his cigars, she found some one she -really loved with her whole heart. And it was too late. But she wrote -him one letter, the other man, you know, and it caused a lot of trouble. -So she said--I remember the very words-- - -"Half the troubles in the world are caused by letters. Emotions are -changeable things"--this was after she had found that she really loved -her husband after all, but he had had to shoot himself before she found -it out, although not fatally--"but the written word does not change. It -remains always, embodying a dead truth and giving it apparent life. No -woman should ever put her thoughts on paper." - -She got the letter back, but she had to steal it. And it turned out that -the other man had really only wanted her money all the time. - -That story was a real illumination to me. I shall have a great deal of -money when I am of age, from my grandmother. I saw it all. It was a trap -sure enough. And if I was to get out I would have to have the letter. - -IT WAS THE LETTER THAT PUT ME IN HIS POWER. - -The next day was Christmas. I got a lot of things, including the necklace, -and a mending basket from Sis, with the hope that it would make me -tidy, and father had bought me a set of silver fox, which mother -did not approve of, it being too expensive for a young girl to wear, -according to her. I must say that for an hour or two I was happy enough. - -But the afternoon was terrible. We keep open house on Xmas afternoon, -and father makes a champagne punch, and somebody pours tea, although -nobody drinks it, and there are little cakes from the club, and the -house is decorated with poinsettias. - -At eleven o'clock the mail came in, and mother sorted it over, while -father took a gold piece out to the post-man. - -There were about a million cards, and mother glanced at the addresses -and passed them round. But suddenly she frowned. There was a small -parcel, addressed to me. - -"This looks like a gift, Barbara," she said. And proceeded to open it. - -My heart skipped two beats, and then hammered. Mother's mouth was set as -she tore off the paper and opened the box. There was a card, which she -glanced at, and underneath, was a book of poems. - -"Love Lyrics," said mother, in a terrible voice. "To Barbara, from -H----" - -"Mother----" I began, in an earnest tone. - -"A child of mine receiving such a book from a man!" she went on. -"Barbara, I am speechless." - -But she was not speechless. If she was speechless for the next half -hour, I would hate to hear her really converse. And all that I could do -was to bear it. For I had made a Frankenstein--see the book read last -term by the Literary Society--not out of grave-yard fragments, but from -malted milk tablets, so to speak, and now it was pursuing me to an early -grave. For I felt that I simply could not continue to live. - -"Now--where does he live?" - -"I--don't know, mother." - -"You sent him a letter." - -"I don't know where he lives, anyhow." - -"Leila," mother said, "will you ask Hannah to bring my smelling salts?" - -"Aren't you going to give me the book?" I asked. "It--it sounds -interesting." - -"You are shameless," mother said, and threw the thing into the fire. A -good many of my things seemed to be going into the fire at that time. I -cannot help wondering what they would have done if it had all happened -in the summer, and no fires burning. They would have felt quite -helpless, I imagine. - -Father came back just then, but he did not see the book, which was then -blazing with a very hot red flame. I expected mother to tell him, and I -daresay I should not have been surprised to see my furs follow the book. -I had got into the way of expecting to see things burning that do not -belong in a fireplace. But mother did not tell him. - - -I have thought over this a great deal, and I believe that now I -understand. Mother was unjustly putting the blame for everything on this -School, and mother had chosen the School. My father had not been much -impressed by the catalog. "Too much dancing room and not enough tennis -courts," he had said. This, of course, is my father's opinion. Not mine. - -The real reason, then, for mother's silence was that she disliked -confessing that she made a mistake in her choice of a School. - -I ate very little luncheon and my only comfort was my seed pearls. I was -wearing them, for fear the door-bell would ring, and a letter or flowers -would arrive from H. In that case I felt quite sure that someone, in a -frenzy, would burn the pearls also. - -The afternoon was terrible. It rained solid sheets, and Patrick, the -butler, gave notice three hours after he had received his Christmas -presents, on account of not being let off for early mass. - -But my father's punch is famous, and people came, and stood around and -buzzed, and told me I had grown and was almost a young lady. And Tommy -Gray got out of his cradle and came to call on me, and coughed all the -time, with a whoop. He developed the whooping cough later. He had on his -first long trousers, and a pair of lavender socks and a tie to match. He -said they were not exactly the same shade, but he did not think it would -be noticed. Hateful child! - -At half past five, when the place was jammed, I happened to look up. -Carter Brooks was in the hall, and behind him was H. He had seen me -before I saw him, and he had a sort of sickly grin, meant to denote -joy. I was talking to our bishop at the time, and he was asking me what -sort of services we had in the school chapel. - -I meant to say "non-sectarian," but in my surprise and horror I regret -to say that I said, "vegetarian." Carter Brooks came over to me like a -cat to a saucer of milk, and pulled me off into a corner. - -"It's all right," he said. "I phoned mama, and she said to bring him. -He's known as Grosvenor here, of course. They'll never suspect a thing. -Now, do I get a small 'thank you'?" - -"I won't see him." - -"Now look here, Bab," he protested, "you two have got to make this thing -up You are a pair of idiots, quarreling over nothing. Poor old Hal is -all broken up. He's sensitive. You've got to remember how sensitive he -is." - -"Go, away" I cried, in broken tones. "Go away, and take him with you." - -"Not until he had spoken to your Father," he observed, setting his jaw. -"He's here for that, and you know it. You can't play fast and loose with -a man, you know." - -"Don't you dare to let him speak to father!" - -He shrugged his shoulders. - -"That's between you two, of course," he said. "It's not up to me. Tell -him yourself, if you've changed your mind. I don't intend," he went on, -impressively, "to have any share in ruining his life." - -"Oh piffle," I said. I am aware that this is slang, and does not belong -in a theme. But I was driven to saying it. - -I got through the crowd by using my elbows. I am afraid I gave -the bishop quite a prod, and I caught Mr. Andrews on his rotating -waistcoat. But I was desperate. - -Alas, I was too late. - -The caterer's man, who had taken Patrick's place in a hurry, was at the -punch bowl, and father was gone. I was just in time to see him take H. -into his library and close the door. - -Here words fail me. I knew perfectly well that beyond that door H, whom -I had invented and who therefore simply did not exist, was asking for my -hand. I made up my mind at once to run away and go on the stage, and -I had even got part way up the stairs, when I remembered that, with -a dollar for the picture and five dollars for the violets and three -dollars for the hat pin I had given Sis, and two dollars and a quarter -for mother's handkerchief case, I had exactly a dollar and seventy-five -cents in the world. - -I WAS TRAPPED. - -I went up to my room, and sat and waited. Would father be violent, and -throw H. out and then come upstairs, pale with fury and disinherit me? -Or would the whole family conspire together, when the people had gone, -and send me to a convent? I made up my mind, if it was the convent, to -take the veil and be a nun. I would go to nurse lepers, or something, -and then, when it was too late, they would be sorry. - -The stage or the convent, nun or actress? Which? - -I left the door open, but there was only the sound of revelry below. -I felt then that it was to be the convent. I pinned a towel around my -face, the way the nuns wear whatever they call them, and from the side -it was very becoming. I really did look like Julia Marlowe, especially as -my face was very sad and tragic. - -At something before seven every one had gone, and I heard Sis and mother -come upstairs to dress for dinner. I sat and waited, and when I heard -father I got cold all over. But he went on by, and I heard him go into -mother's room and close the door. Well, I knew I had to go through with -it, although my life was blasted. So I dressed and went downstairs. - -Father was the first down. HE CAME DOWN WHISTLING. - -It is perfectly true. I could not believe my ears. - -He approached me with a smiling face. - -"Well, Bab," he said, exactly as if nothing had happened, "have you had -a nice day?" - -He had the eyes of a basilisk, that creature of fable. - -"I've had a lovely day, Father," I replied. I could be basilisk-ish -also. - -There is a mirror over the drawing room mantle, and he turned me around -until we both faced it. - -"Up to my ears," he said, referring to my height. "And lovers already! -Well, I daresay we must make up our minds to lose you." - -"I won't be lost," I declared, almost violently. "Of course, if you -intend to shove me off your hands, to the first idiot who comes along -and pretends a lot of stuff, I----" - -"My dear child!" said father, looking surprised. "Such an outburst! All -I was trying to say, before your mother comes down, is that I--well, -that I understand and that I shall not make my little girl unhappy -by--er--by breaking her heart." - -"Just what do you mean by that, father?" - -He looked rather uncomfortable, being one who hates to talk sentiment. - -"It's like this, Barbara," he said. "If you want to marry this young -man--and you have made it very clear that you do--I am going to see that -you do it. You are young, of course, but after all your dear mother was -not much older than you are when I married her." - -"Father!" I cried, from an over-flowing heart. - -"I have noticed that you are not happy, Barbara," he said. "And I shall -not thwart you, or allow you to be thwarted. In affairs of the heart, -you are to have your own way." - -"I want to tell you something!" I cried. "I will NOT be cast off! I----" - -"Tut, tut," said Father. "Who is casting you off? I tell you that I -like the young man, and give you my blessing, or what is the present-day -equivalent for it, and you look like a figure of tragedy!" - -But I could endure no more. My own father had turned on me and was -rending me, so to speak. With a breaking heart and streaming eyes I flew -to my chamber. - -There, for hours I paced the floor. - -Never, I determined, would I marry H. Better death, by far. He was a -scheming fortune-hunter, but to tell the family that was to confess all. -And I would never confess. I would run away before I gave Sis such a -chance at me. I would run away, but first I would kill Carter Brooks. - -Yes, I was driven to thoughts of murder. It shows how the first false -step leads down and down, to crime and even to death. Oh never, never, -gentle reader, take that first false step. Who knows to what it may -lead! - -"One false Step is never retrieved." Gray--On a Favorite Cat. - -I reflected also on how the woman in the book had ruined her life with -a letter. "The written word does not change," she had said. "It remains -always, embodying a dead truth and giving it apparent life." - -"Apparent life" was exactly what my letter had given to H. Frankenstein. -That was what I called him, in my agony. I felt that if only I had never -written the Letter there would have been no trouble. And another awful -thought came to me: Was there an H after all? Could there be an H? - -Once the French teacher had taken us to the theater in New York, and a -woman sitting on a chair and covered with a sheet, had brought a man out -of a perfectly empty cabinet, by simply willing to do it. The cabinet -was empty, for four respectable looking men went up and examined it, and -one even measured it with a Tape-measure. - -She had materialized him, out of nothing. - -And while I had had no cabinet, there are many things in this world -"that we do not dream of in our philosophy." Was H. a real person, or -a creature of my disordered brain? In plain and simple language, COULD -THERE BE SUCH A PERSON? - -I feared not. - -And if there was no H, really, and I married him, where would I be? - -There was a ball at the Club that night, and the family all went. No -one came to say good-night to me, and by half past ten I was alone with -my misery. I knew Carter Brooks would be at the ball, and H also, very -likely, dancing around as agreeably as if he really existed, and I had -not made him up. - -I got the book from Sis's room again, and re-read it. The woman in it -had been in great trouble, too, with her husband cleaning his revolver -and making his will. And at last she had gone to the apartments of the -man who had her letters, in a taxicab covered with a heavy veil, and had -got them back. He had shot himself when she returned--the husband--but -she burned the letters and then called a doctor, and he was saved. Not -the doctor, of course. The husband. - -The villain's only hold on her had been the letters, so he went to South -Africa and was gored by an elephant, thus passing out of her life. - -Then and there I knew that I would have to get my letter back from H. -Without it he was powerless. The trouble was that I did not know where -he was staying. Even if he came out of a cabinet, the cabinet would have -to be somewhere, would it not? - -I felt that I would have to meet guile with guile. And to steal one's own -letter is not really stealing. Of course if he was visiting any one and -pretending to be a real person, I had no chance in the world. But if he -was stopping at a hotel I thought I could manage. The man in the book -had had an apartment, with a Japanese servant, who went away and drew -plans of American forts in the kitchen and left the woman alone with the -desk containing the letter. But I daresay that was unusually lucky and -not the sort of thing to look forward to. - -With me, to think is to act. Hannah was out, it being Christmas and her -brother-in-law having a wake, being dead, so I was free to do anything I -wanted to. - -First I called the club and got Carter Brooks on the telephone. - -"Carter," I said, "I--I am writing a letter. Where is--where does H. -stay?" - -"Who?" - -"H.--Mr. Grosvenor." - -"Why, bless your ardent little heart! Writing, are you? It's sublime, -Bab!" - -"Where does he live?" - -"And is it all alone you are, on Christmas Night!" he burbled. (This is a -word from Alice in Wonder Land, and although not in the dictionary, is -quite expressive.) - -"Yes," I replied, bitterly. "I am old enough to be married off without -my consent, but I am not old enough for a real Ball. It makes me sick." - -"I can smuggle him here, if you want to talk to him." - -"Smuggle!" I said, with scorn. "There is no need to smuggle him. The -family is crazy about him. They are flinging me at him." - -"Well, that's nice," he said. "Who'd have thought it! Shall I bring him -to the 'phone?" - -"I don't want to talk to him. I hate him." - -"Look here," he observed, "if you keep that up, he'll begin to believe -you. Don't take these little quarrels too hard, Barbara. He's so happy -to-night in the thought that you----" - -"Does he live in a cabinet, or where?" - -"In a what? I don't get that word." - -"Don't bother. Where shall I send his letter?" - -Well, it seemed he had an apartment at the arcade, and I rang off. It -was after eleven by that time, and by the time I had got into my school -mackintosh and found a heavy veil of mother's and put it on, it was -almost half past. - -The house was quiet, and as Patrick had gone, there was no one around in -the lower hall. I slipped out and closed the door behind me, and -looked for a taxicab, but the veil was so heavy that I hailed our own -limousine, and Smith had drawn up at the curb before I knew him. - -"Where to, lady?" he said. "This is a private car, but I'll take you -anywhere in the city for a dollar." - -A flush of just indignation rose to my cheek, at the knowledge that -Smith was using our car for a taxicab! And just as I was about to speak -to him severely, and threaten to tell father, I remembered, and walked -away. - -"Make it seventy-five cents," he called after me. But I went on. It was -terrible to think that Smith could go on renting our car to all sorts of -people, covered with germs and everything, and that I could never report -it to the family. - -I got a real taxi at last, and got out at the arcade, giving the man a -quarter, although ten cents would have been plenty as a tip. - -I looked at him, and I felt that he could be trusted. - -"This," I said, holding up the money, "is the price of silence." - -But if he was trustworthy he was not subtle, and he said: - -"The what, miss?" - -"If any one asks if you have driven me here, YOU HAVE NOT" I explained, -in an impressive manner. - -He examined the quarter, even striking a match to look at it. Then he -replied: "I have not!" and drove away. - -Concealing my nervousness as best I could, I entered the doomed -building. There was only a hall boy there, asleep in the elevator, and -I looked at the thing with the names on it. "Mr. Grosvenor" was on the -fourth floor. - -I wakened the boy, and he yawned and took me to the fourth floor. My -hands were stiff with nervousness by that time, but the boy was half -asleep, and evidently he took me for some one who belonged there, for -he said "Goodnight" to me, and went on down. There was a square landing -with two doors, and "Grosvenor" was on one. I tried it gently. It was -unlocked. - -"FACILUS DESCENSUS IN AVERNU." - -I am not defending myself. What I did was the result of desperation. -But I cannot even write of my sensations as I stepped through that fatal -portal, without a sinking of the heart. I had, however, had sufficient -foresight to prepare an alibi. In case there was someone present in the -apartment I intended to tell a falsehood, I regret to confess, and to say -that I had got off at the wrong floor. - -There was a sort of hall, with a clock and a table, and a shaded -electric lamp, and beyond that the door was open into a sitting room. - -There was a small light burning there, and the remains of a wood fire in -the fireplace. There was no cabinet however. - -Everything was perfectly quiet, and I went over to the fire and warmed -my hands. My nails were quite blue, but I was strangely calm. I took off -mother's veil, and my mackintosh, so I would be free to work, and I then -looked around the room. There were a number of photographs of rather -smart looking girls, and I curled my lip scornfully. He might have -fooled them but he could not deceive me. And it added to my bitterness -to think that at that moment the villain was dancing--and flirting -probably--while I was driven to actual theft to secure the letter that -placed me in his power. - -When I had stopped shivering I went to his desk. There were a lot of -letters on the top, all addressed to him as Grosvenor. It struck me -suddenly as strange that if he was only visiting, under an assumed name, -in order to see me, that so many people should be writing to him as Mr. -Grosvenor. And it did not look like the room of a man who was visiting, -unless he took a freight car with him on his travels. - -THERE WAS A MYSTERY. All at once I knew it. - -My letter was not on the desk, so I opened the top drawer. It seemed to -be full of bills, and so was the one below it. I had just started on the -third drawer, when a terrible thing happened. - -"Hello!" said some one behind me. - -I turned my head slowly, and my heart stopped. - -THE PORTERES INTO THE PASSAGE HAD OPENED, AND A GENTLEMAN IN HIS EVENING -CLOTHES WAS STANDING THERE. - -"Just sit still, please," he said, in a perfectly cold voice. And he -turned and locked the door into the hall. I was absolutely unable to -speak. I tried once, but my tongue hit the roof of my mouth like the -clapper of a bell. - -"Now," he said, when he had turned around. "I wish you would tell me -some good reason why I should not hand you over to the police." - -"Oh, please don't!" I said. - -"That's eloquent. But not a reason. I'll sit down and give you a little -time. I take it, you did not expect to find me here." - -"I'm in the wrong apartment. That's all," I said. "Maybe you'll think -that's an excuse and not a reason. I can't help it if you do." - -"Well," he said, "that explains some things. It's pretty well known, I -fancy, that I have little worth stealing, except my good name." - -"I was not stealing," I replied in a sulky manner. - -"I beg your pardon," he said. "It IS an ugly word. We will strike it -from the record. Would you mind telling me whose apartment you intended -to--er--investigate? If this is the wrong one, you know." - -"I was looking for a letter." - -"Letters, letters!" he said. "When will you women learn not to write -letters. Although"--he looked at me closely--"you look rather young for -that sort of thing." He sighed. "It's born in you, I daresay," he said. - -Well, for all his patronizing ways, he was not very old himself. - -"Of course," he said, "if you are telling the truth--and it sounds -fishy, I must say--it's hardly a police matter, is it? It's rather one -for diplomacy. But can you prove what you say?" - -"My word should be sufficient," I replied stiffly. "How do I know that -YOU belong here?" - -"Well, you don't, as a matter of fact. Suppose you take my word for -that, and I agree to believe what you say about the wrong apartment, -Even then it's rather unusual. I find a pale and determined looking -young lady going through my desk in a business-like manner. She says she -has come for a letter. Now the question is, is there a letter? If so, -what letter?" - -"It is a love letter," I said. - -"Don't blush over such a confession," he said. "If it is true, be proud -of it. Love is a wonderful thing. Never be ashamed of being in love, my -child." - -"I am not in love," I cried with bitter fury. - -"Ah! Then it is not YOUR letter!" - -"I wrote it." - -"But to simulate a passion that does not exist--that is sacrilege. It -is----" - -"Oh, stop talking," I cried, in a hunted tone. "I can't bear it. If you -are going to arrest me, get it over." - -"I'd rather NOT arrest you, if we can find a way out. You look so young, -so new to crime! Even your excuse for being here is so naive, that -I--won't you tell me why you wrote a love letter, if you are not in -love? And whom you sent it to? That's important, you see, as it bears -on the case. I intend," he said, "to be judicial, unimpassioned, and -quite fair." - -"I wrote a love letter" I explained, feeling rather cheered, "but it was -not intended for any one, Do you see? It was just a love letter." - -"Oh," he said. "Of course. It is often done. And after that?" - -"Well, it had to go somewhere. At least I felt that way about it. So I -made up a name from some malted milk tablets----" - -"Malted milk tablets!" he said, looking bewildered. - -"Just as I was thinking up a name to send it to," I explained, -"Hannah--that's mother's maid, you know--brought in some hot milk and -some malted milk tablets, and I took the name from them." - -"Look here," he said, "I'm unprejudiced and quite calm, but isn't the -'mother's maid' rather piling it on?" - -"Hannah is mother's maid, and she brought in the milk and the tablets, -I should think," I said, growing sarcastic, "that so far it is clear to -the dullest mind." - -"Go on," he said, leaning back and closing his eyes. "You named the -letter for your mother's maid--I mean for the malted milk. Although you -have not yet stated the name you chose; I never heard of any one named -Milk, and as to the other, while I have known some rather thoroughly -malted people--however, let that go." - -"Valentine's tablets," I said. "Of course, you understand," I said, -bending forward, "there was no such person. I made him up. The Harold -was made up too--Harold Valentine." - -"I see. Not clearly, perhaps, but I have a gleam of intelligence." - -"But, after all, there was such a person. That's clear, isn't it? And -now he considers that we are engaged, and--and he insists on marrying -me." - -"That," he said, "is really easy to understand. I don't blame him at all. -He is clearly a person of discernment." - -"Of course," I said bitterly, "you would be on HIS side. Every one is." - -"But the point is this," he went on. "If you made him up out of the -whole cloth, as it were, and there was no such person, how can there -be such a person? I am merely asking to get it all clear in my head. It -sounds so reasonable when you say it, but there seems to be something -left out." - -"I don't know how he can be, but he is," I said, hopelessly. "And he is -exactly like his picture." - -"Well, that's not unusual, you know." - -"It is in this case. Because I bought the picture in a shop, and just -pretended it was him. (He?) And it WAS." - -He got up and paced the floor. - -"It's a very strange case," he said. "Do you mind if I light a -cigarette? It helps to clear my brain. What was the name you gave him?" - -"Harold Valentine. But he is here under another name, because of my -family. They think I am a mere child, you see, and so of course he took -a NOM DE PLUME." - -"A NOM DE PLUME? Oh I see! What is it?" - -"Grosvenor," I said. "The same as yours." - -"There's another Grosvenor in the building, That's where the trouble -came in, I suppose, Now let me get this straight. You wrote a letter, -and somehow or other he got it, and now you want it back. Stripped of -the things that baffle my intelligence, that's it, isn't it?" - -I rose in excitement. - -"Then, if he lives in the building, the letter is probably here. Why -can't you go and get it for me?" - -"Very neat! And let you slip away while I am gone?" - -I saw that he was still uncertain that I was telling him the truth. It -was maddening. And only the Letter itself could convince him. - -"Oh, please try to get it," I cried, almost weeping. "You can lock me in -here, if you are afraid I will run away. And he is out. I know he is. He -is at the club ball." - -"Naturally," he said "the fact that you are asking me to compound a -felony, commit larceny, and be an accessory after the fact does not -trouble you. As I told you before, all I have left is my good name, and -now----!" - -"Please!" I said. - -He stared down at me. - -"Certainly," he said. "Asked in that tone, murder would be one of the -easiest things I do. But I shall lock you in." - -"Very well," I said meekly. And after I had described it--the letter--to -him he went out. - -I had won, but my triumph was but sackcloth and ashes in my mouth. I had -won, but at what a cost! Ah, how I wished that I might live again the -past few days! That I might never have started on my path of deception! -Or that, since my intentions at the start had been so innocent, I had -taken another photograph at the shop, which I had fancied considerably -but had heartlessly rejected because of no mustache. - -He was gone for a long time, and I sat and palpitated. For what if H. -had returned early and found him and called in the police? - -But the latter had not occurred, for at ten minutes after one he came -back, entering by the window from a fire-escape, and much streaked with -dirt. - -"Narrow escape, dear child!" he observed, locking the window and drawing -the shade. "Just as I got it, your--er--gentleman friend returned and -fitted his key in the lock. I am not at all sure," he said, wiping his -hands with his handkerchief, "that he will not regard the open window -as a suspicious circumstance. He may be of a low turn of mind. However, -all's well that ends here in this room. Here it is." - -I took it, and my heart gave a great leap of joy. I was saved. - -"Now," he said, "we'll order a taxicab and get you home. And while it is -coming suppose you tell me the thing over again. It's not as clear to me -as it ought to be, even now." - -So then I told him--about not being out yet, and Sis having flowers sent -her, and her room done over, and never getting to bed until dawn. -And that they treated me like a mere child, which was the reason for -everything, and about the poem, which he considered quite good. And then -about the letter. - -"I get the whole thing a bit clearer now," he said. "Of course, it -is still cloudy in places. The making up somebody to write to is -understandable, under the circumstances. But it is odd to have had the -very person materialize, so to speak. It makes me wonder--well, how -about burning the letter, now we've got it? It would be better, I think. -The way things have been going with you, if we don't destroy it, it is -likely to walk off into somebody else's pocket and cause more trouble." - -So we burned it, and then the telephone rang and said the taxi was -there. - -"I'll get my coat and be ready in a jiffy," he said, "and maybe we can -smuggle you into the house and no one the wiser. We'll try anyhow." - -He went into the other room and I sat by the fire and thought. You -remember that when I was planning Harold Valentine, I had imagined him -with a small, dark mustache, and deep, passionate eyes? Well, this -Mr. Grosvenor had both, or rather, all three. And he had the loveliest -smile, with no dimple. He was, I felt, exactly the sort of man I could -die for. - -It was too tragic that, with all the world to choose from, I had not -taken him instead of H. - -We walked downstairs, so as not to give the elevator boy a chance to -talk, he said. But he was asleep again, and we got to the street and to -the taxicab without being seen. - -Oh, I was very cheerful. When I think of it--but I might have known, all -along. Nothing went right with me that week. - -Just before we got to the house he said: - -"Goodnight and goodbye, little Barbara. I'll never forget you and this -evening. And save me a dance at your coming-out party. I'll be there." - -I held out my hand, and he took it and kissed it. It was all perfectly -thrilling. And then we drew up in front of the house and he helped me -out, and my entire family had just got out of the motor and was lined -up on the pavement staring at us! - -"All right, are you?" he said, as coolly as if they had not been -anywhere in sight. "Well, good night and good luck!" And he got into the -taxicab and drove away, leaving me in the hands of the enemy. - -The next morning I was sent back to school. They never gave me a chance -to explain, for mother went into hysterics, after accusing me of having -men dangling around waiting at every corner. They had to have a doctor, -and things were awful. - -The only person who said anything was Sis. She came to my room that -night when I was in bed, and stood looking down at me. She was very -angry, but there was a sort of awe in her eyes. - -"My hat's off to you, Barbara," she said. "Where in the world do you -pick them all up? Things must have changed at school since I was there." - -"I'm sick to death of the other sex," I replied languidly. "It's no -punishment to send me away. I need a little piece and quiet." And I did. - - -CONCLUSION: - -All this holiday week, while the girls are away, I have been writing -this theme, for literature class. To-day is New Years and I am putting -in the finishing touches. I intend to have it typed in the village and -to send a copy to father, who I think will understand, and another copy, -but with a few lines cut, to Mr. Grosvenor. The nice one. There were -some things he did not quite understand, and this will explain. - -I shall also send a copy to Carter Brooks, who came out handsomely with -an apology this morning in a letter and a ten pound box of candy. - -His letter explains everything. H. is a real person and did not come -out of a cabinet. Carter recognized the photograph as being one of a -Mr. Grosvenor he went to college with, who had gone on the stage and -was playing in a stock company at home. Only they were not playing -Christmas week, as business, he says, is rotten then. When he saw me -writing the letter he felt that it was all a bluff, especially as he had -seen me sending myself the violets at the florists. - -So he got Mr. Grosvenor, the blonde one, to pretend he was Harold -Valentine. Only things slipped up. I quote from Carter's letter: - - -"He's a bully chap, Bab, and he went into it for a lark, roses and poems -and all. But when he saw that you took it rather hard, he felt it wasn't -square. He went to your father to explain and apologized, but your -father seemed to think you needed a lesson. He's a pretty good sport, -your father. And he said to let it go on for a day or two. A little -worry wouldn't hurt you." - - -However, I do not call it being a good sport to see one's daughter -perfectly wretched and do nothing to help. And more than that, to -willfully permit one's child to suffer, and enjoy it. - -But it was father, after all, who got the jolt, I think, when he saw me -get out of the taxicab. - -Therefore I will not explain, for a time. A little worry will not hurt -him either. - -I will not send him his copy for a week. - -Perhaps, after all, I will give him something to worry about eventually. -For I have received a box of roses, with no card, but a pen and ink -drawing of a gentleman in evening clothes crawling onto a fire-escape -through an open window. He has dropped his heart, and it is two floors -below. - -My narrative has now come to a conclusion, and I will close with a few -reflections drawn from my own sad and tragic Experience. I trust the -girls of this school will ponder and reflect. - -Deception is a very sad thing. It starts very easy, and without warning, -and everything seems to be going all right, and no rocks ahead. When -suddenly the breakers loom up, and your frail vessel sinks, with you on -board, and maybe your dear ones, dragged down with you. - - Oh, what a tangled Web we weave, - When first we practice to deceive. - Sir Walter Scott. - - - - -CHAPTER II. THEME: THE CELEBRITY - - -We have been requested to write, during this vacation, a true and -veracious account of a meeting with any celebrity we happened to meet -during the summer. If no celebrity, any interesting character would do, -excepting one's own family. - -But as one's own family is neither celebrated nor interesting, there is -no temptation to write about it. - -As I met Mr. Reginald Beecher this summer, I have chosen him as my -subject. - -Brief history of the Subject: He was born in 1890 at Woodbury, N. J. -Attended public high schools, and in 1910 graduated from Princeton -University. - -Following year produced first Play in New York, called Her Soul. -Followed this by the Soul Mate, and this by The Divorce. - -Description of Subject. Mr. Beecher is tall and slender, and wears a -very small dark Mustache. Although but twenty-six years of age, his hair -on close inspection reveals here and there a silver thread. His teeth -are good, and his eyes amber, with small flecks of brown in them. He has -been vaccinated twice. - -It has always been one of my chief ambitions to meet a celebrity. On one -or two occasions we have had them at school, but they never sit at the -Junior's table. Also, they are seldom connected with either the Drama -or The Movies (a slang term but apparently taking a place in our -literature). - -It was my intention, on being given this subject for my midsummer theme, -to seek out Mrs. Bainbridge, a lady author who has a cottage across the -bay from ours, and to ask the privilege of sitting at her feet for a few -hours, basking in the sunshine of her presence, and learning from her -own lips her favorite Flower, her favorite Poem and the favorite child -of her brain. - - Of all those arts in which the wise excel, - Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well. - Duke of Buckingham - -I had meant to write my theme on her, but I learned in time that she -was forty years of age. Her work is therefore done. She has passed her -active years, and I consider that it is not the past of American Letters -which is at stake, but the future. Besides, I was more interested in the -drama than in literature. - -Possibly it is owing to the fact that the girls think I resemble Julia -Marlowe, that from my earliest years my mind has been turned toward the -stage. I am very determined and fixed in my ways, and with me to decide -to do a thing is to decide to do it. I am not of a romantic nature, -however, and as I learned of the dangers of the theater, I drew back. -Even a strong nature, such as mine is, on occasions, can be influenced. -I therefore decided to change my plans, and to write plays instead of -acting in them. - -At first I meant to write comedies, but as I realized the gravity -of life, and its bitterness and disappointments, I turned naturally to -tragedy. Surely, as dear Shakespeare says: - - The world is a stage - Where every man must play a part, - And mine a sad one. - -This explains my sincere interest in Mr. Beecher. His works were all -realistic and sad. I remember that I saw the first one three years ago, -when a mere child, and became violently ill from crying and had to be -taken home. - -The school will recall that last year I wrote a play, patterned on The -Divorce, and that only a certain narrowness of view on the part of the -faculty prevented it being the class play. If I may be permitted to -express an opinion, we of the class of 1917 are not children, and should -not be treated as such. - -Encouraged by the applause of my class-mates, and feeling that I was of -a more serious turn of mind than most of them, who seem to think of -pleasure only, I decided to write a play during the summer. I would -thus be improving my vacation hours, and, I considered, keeping out of -mischief. It was pure idleness which had caused my trouble during the -last Christmas holidays. How true it is that the devil finds work for -idle hands! - -With a play and this theme I believed that the devil would give me up as -a total loss, and go elsewhere. - -How little we can read the future! - -I now proceed to an account of my meeting and acquaintance with Mr. -Beecher. It is my intention to conceal nothing. I can only comfort -myself with the thought that my motives were innocent, and that I was -obeying orders and securing material for a theme. I consider that the -attitude of my family is wrong and cruel, and that my sister Leila, -being only 20 months older, although out in society, has no need to -write me the sort of letters she has been writing. Twenty months is -twenty months, and not two years, although she seems to think it is. - -I returned home full of happy plans for my vacation. When I look back it -seems strange that the gay and innocent young girl of the train can have -been! So much that is tragic has since happened. If I had not had a -cinder in my eye things would have been different. But why repine? Fate -frequently hangs thus on a single hair--an eye-lash, as one may say. - -Father met me at the train. I had got the aforementioned cinder in my -eye, and a very nice young man had taken it out for me. I still cannot -see what harm there was in our chatting together after that, especially as -we said nothing to object to. But father looked very disagreeable about -it, and the young man went away in a hurry. But it started us off wrong, -although I got him--father--to promise not to tell mother. - -"I do wish you would be more careful, Bab," he said with a sort of sigh. - -"Careful!" I said. "Then it's not doing things, but being found out, -that matters!" - -"Careful in your conduct, Bab." - -"He was a beautiful young man, father," I observed, slipping my arm -through his. - -"Barbara, Barbara! Your poor mother----" - -"Now look here, father" I said. "If it was mother who was interested in -him it might be troublesome. But it is only me. And I warn you, here and -now, that I expect to be thrilled at the sight of a nice young man right -along. It goes up my back and out the roots of my hair." - -Well, my father is a real person, so he told me to talk sense, and gave -me twenty dollars, and agreed to say nothing about the young man to -mother, if I would root for Canada against the Adirondacks for the -summer, because of the fishing. - -Mother was waiting in the hall for me, but she held me off with both -hands. - -"Not until you have bathed and changed your clothing, Barbara," she -said. "I have never had it." - -She meant the whooping cough. The school will recall the epidemic which -ravaged us last June, and changed us from a peaceful institution to what -sounded like a dog show. - -Well, I got the same old room, not much fixed up, but they had put up -different curtains anyhow, thank goodness. I had been hinting all spring -for new furniture, but my family does not take a hint unless it is -chloroformed first, and I found the same old stuff there. - -They believe in waiting until a girl makes her debut before giving her -anything but the necessities of life. - -Sis was off for a week-end, but Hannah was there, and I kissed her. Not -that I'm so fond of her, but I had to kiss somebody. - -"Well, Miss Barbara!" she said. "How you've grown!" - -That made me rather sore, because I am not a child any longer, but they -all talk to me as if I were but six years old, and small for my age. - -"I've stopped growing, Hannah," I said, with dignity. "At least, almost. -But I see I still draw the nursery." - -Hannah was opening my suitcase, and she looked up and said: "I tried to -get you the blue room, Miss Bab. But Miss Leila said she needed it for -house parties." - -"Never mind," I said. "I don't care anything about furniture. I have -other things to think about, Hannah; I want the school room desk up -here." - -"Desk!" she said, with her jaw drooping. - -"I am writing now," I said. "I need a lot of ink, and paper, and a good -lamp. Let them keep the blue room, Hannah, for their selfish purposes. I -shall be happy in my work. I need nothing more." - -"Writing!" said Hannah. "Is it a book you're writing?" - -"A play." - -"Listen to the child! A play!" - -I sat on the edge of the bed. - -"Listen, Hannah," I said. "It is not what is outside of us that matters. -It is what is inside. It is what we are, not what we eat, or look like, -or wear. I have given up everything, Hannah, to my career." - -"You're young yet," said Hannah. "You used to be fond enough of the -boys." - -Hannah has been with us for years, so she gets rather talky at times, -and has to be sat upon. - -"I care nothing whatever for the Other Sex," I replied haughtily. - -She was opening my suitcase at the time, and I was surveying the chamber -which was to be the seen of my Literary Life, at least for some time. - -"Now and then," I said to Hannah, "I shall read you parts of it. Only -you mustn't run and tell mother." - -"Why not?" said she, peering into the Suitcase. - -"Because I intend to deal with Life," I said. "I shall deal with real -Things, and not the way we think them. I am young, but I have thought a -great deal. I shall mince nothing." - -"Look here, Miss Barbara," Hannah said, all at once, "what are you doing -with this whiskey flask? And these socks? And--you come right here, and -tell me where you got the things in this suitcase." I stocked over to -the bed, and my blood froze in my veins. IT WAS NOT MINE. - -Words cannot fully express how I felt. While fully convinced that there -had been a mistake, I knew not when or how. Hannah was staring at me -with cold and accusing eyes. - -"You're a very young lady, Miss Barbara," she said, with her eyes full -of Suspicion, "to be carrying a flask about with you." I was as puzzled -as she was, but I remained calm and to all appearances Spartan. - -"I am young in years," I remarked. "But I have seen Life, Hannah." - -Now I meant nothing by this at the time. But it was getting on my nerves -to be put in the infant class all the time. The Christmas before they had -done it, and I had had my revenge. Although it had hurt me more than it -hurt them, and if I gave them a fright I gave myself a worse one. As I -said at that time: - - Oh, what a tangled web we weave, - When first we practice to deceive. - Sir Walter Scott. - -Hannah gave me a horrified glare, and dipped into the suitcase again. -She brought up a tin box of cigarettes, and I thought she was going to -have delirium tremens at once. - -Well, at first I thought the girls at school had played a trick on me, -and a low down mean trick at that. There are always those who think it -is funny to do that sort of thing, but they are the first to squeal when -anything is done to them. Once I put a small garter snake in a girl's -muff, and it went up her sleeve, which is nothing to some of the things -she had done to me. And you would have thought the school was on fire. - -Anyhow, I said to myself that some Smarty was trying to get me into -trouble, and Hannah would run to the family, and they'd never believe -me. All at once I saw all my cherished plans for the summer gone, and -me in the country somewhere with Mademoiselle, and walking through the -pasture with a botany in one hand and a folding cup in the other, in -case we found a spring a cow had not stepped in. Mademoiselle was -once my Governess, but has retired to private life, except in cases of -emergency. - -I am naturally very quick in mind. The Archibalds are all like that, and -when once we decide on a course we stick to it through thick and -thin. But we do not lie. It is ridiculous for Hannah to say I said the -cigarettes were mine. All I said was: - -"I suppose you are going to tell the family. You'd better run, or -you'll burst." - -"Oh, Miss Barbara, Miss Barbara!" she said. "And you so young to be so -wild!" - -This was unjust, and I am one to resent injustice. I had returned home -with my mind fixed on serious things, and now I was being told I was -wild. - -"If I tell your mother she'll have a fit," Hannah said, evidently drawn -hither and thither by emotion. "Now see here, Miss Bab, you've just -come home, and there was trouble at your last vacation that I'm like to -remember to my dying day. You tell me how those things got there, like -a good girl, and I'll say nothing about them." - -I am naturally sweet in disposition, but to call me a good girl and -remind me of last Christmas holidays was too much. My natural firmness came -to the front. - -"Certainly NOT," I said. - -"You needn't stick your lip out at me, Miss Bab, that was only giving -you a chance, and forgetting my duty to help you, not to mention -probably losing my place when the family finds out." - -"Finds out what?" - -"What you've been up to, the stage, and writing plays, and now liquor -and tobacco!" - -Now I may be at fault in the narrative that follows. But I ask the school -if this was fair treatment. I had returned to my home full of high -ideals, only to see them crushed beneath the heal of domestic tyranny. - - Necessity is the argument of tyrants; - it is the creed of slaves. - William Pitt. - -How true are these immortal words. - -It was with a firm countenance but a sinking heart that I saw Hannah -leave the room. I had come home inspired with lofty ambition, and it -had ended thus. Heart-broken, I wandered to the bedside, and let my eyes -fall on the suitcase, the container of all my woe. - -Well, I was surprised, all right. It was not and never had been mine. -Instead of my blue serge sailor suit and my 'robe de nuit' and kimono -etc., it contained a checked gentleman's suit, a mussed shirt and a cap. -At first I was merely astonished. Then a sense of loss overpowered me. -I suffered. I was prostrated with grief. Not that I cared a rap for -the clothes I'd lost, being most of them to small and patched here and -there. But I had lost the plot of my play. My career was gone. - -I was undone. - -It may be asked what has this recital to do with the account of meeting -a celebrity. I reply that it has a great deal to do with it. A bare -recital of a meeting may be news, but it is not art. - -A theme consists of Introduction, Body and Conclusion. - -This is still the Introduction. - -When I was at last revived enough to think I knew what had happened. The -young man who took the cinder out of my eye had come to sit beside -me, which I consider was merely kindness on his part and nothing like -flirting, and he had brought his suitcase over, and they had got mixed -up. But I knew the family would call it flirting, and not listen to a -word I said. - -A madness seized me. Now that everything is over, I realize that it was -madness. But "there is a divinity that shapes our ends etc." It was to -be. It was Karma, or Kismet, or whatever the word is. It was written in -the Book of Fate that I was to go ahead, and wreck my life, and generally -ruin everything. - -I locked the door behind Hannah, and stood with tragic feet, "where the -brook and river meet." What was I to do? How hide this evidence of -my (presumed) duplicity? I was innocent, but I looked guilty. This, as -everyone knows, is worse than guilt. - -I unpacked the suitcase as fast as I could, therefore, and being just -about distracted, I bundled the things up and put them all together in -the toy closet, where all Sis's dolls and mine are, mine being mostly -pretty badly gone, as I was always hard on dolls. - -How far removed were those innocent years when I played with dolls! - -Well, I knew Hannah pretty well, and therefore was not surprised when, -having hidden the trousers under a doll buggy, I heard mother's voice at -the door. - -"Let me in, Barbara," she said. - -I closed the closet door, and said: "What is it, mother?" - -"Let me in." - -So I let her in, and pretended I expected her to kiss me, which she -had not yet, on account of the whooping cough. But she seemed to have -forgotten that. Also the kiss. - -"Barbara," she said, in the meanest voice, "how long have you been -smoking?" - -Now I must pause to explain this. Had mother approached me in a sweet -and maternal manner, I would have been softened, and would have told the -whole story. But she did not. She was, as you might say, steaming with -rage. And seeing that I was misunderstood, I hardened. I can be as hard -as adamant when necessary. - -"What do you mean, mother?" - -"Don't answer one question with another." - -"How can I answer when I don't understand you?" - -She simply twitched with fury. - -"You--a mere Child!" she raved. "And I can hardly bring myself to -mention it--the idea of your owning a flask, and bringing it into this -house--it is--it is----" - -Well, I was growing cold and more haughty every moment, so I said: "I -don't see why the mere mention of a flask upsets you so. It isn't -because you aren't used to one, especially when traveling. And since I -was a mere baby I have been accustomed to intoxicants." - -"Barbara!" she interjected, in the most dreadful tone. - -"I mean, in the family," I said. "I have seen wine on our table ever -since I can remember. I knew to put salt on a claret stain before I -could talk." - -Well, you know how it is to see an enemy on the run, and although I -regret to refer to my dear mother as an enemy, still at that moment she -was such and no less. And she was beating it. It was the reference to -my youth that had aroused me, and I was like a wounded lion. Besides, I -knew well enough that if they refused to see that I was practically grown -up, if not entirely, I would get a lot of Sis's clothes, fixed up with -new ribbons. Faded old things! I'd had them for years. - -Better to be considered a bad woman than an unformed child. - -"However, mother," I finished, "if it is any comfort to you, I did not -buy that flask. And I am not a confirmed alcoholic. By no means." - -"This settles it," she said, in a melancholy tone. "When I think of the -comfort Leila has been to me, and the anxiety you have caused, I wonder -where you get your--your DEVILTRY from. I am positively faint." - -I was alarmed, for she did look queer, with her face all white around -the rouge. So I reached for the flask. - -"I'll give you a swig of this," I said. "It will pull you around in no -time." - -But she held me off fiercely. - -"Never!" she said. "Never again. I shall empty the wine cellar. There -will be nothing to drink in this house from now on. I do not know what -we are coming to." - -She walked into the bathroom, and I heard her emptying the flask down -the drain pipe. It was a very handsome flask, silver with gold stripes, -and all at once I knew the young man would want it back. So I said: - -"Mother, please leave the flask here anyhow." - -"Certainly not." - -"It's not mine, mother." - -"Whose is it?" - -"It--a friend of mine loaned it to me." - -"Who?" - -"I can't tell you." - -"You can't TELL me! Barbara, I am utterly bewildered. I sent you away a -simple child, and you return to me--what?" - -Well, we had about an hour's fight over it, and we ended in a -compromise. I gave up the flask, and promised not to smoke and so forth, -and I was to have some new dresses and a silk sweater, and to be allowed -to stay up until ten o'clock, and to have a desk in my room for my work. - -"Work!" mother said. "Career! What next? Why can't you be like Leila, -and settle down to having a good time?" - -"Leila and I are different," I said loftily, for I resented her tone. -"Leila is a child of the moment. Life for her is one grand, sweet Song. -For me it is a serious matter. 'Life is real, life is earnest, and the -grave is not its goal,'" I quoted in impassioned tones. - -(Because that is the way I feel. How can the grave be its goal? THERE -MUST BE SOMETHING BEYOND. I have thought it all out, and I believe in a -world beyond, but not in a hell. Hell, I believe, is the state of mind -one gets into in this world as a result of one's wicked acts or one's -wicked thoughts, and is in one's self.) - -As I have said, the other side of the compromise was that I was not to -carry flasks with me, or drink any punch at parties if it had a stick -in it, and you can generally find out by the taste. For if it is what -Carter Brooks calls "loaded" it stings your tongue. Or if it tastes like -cider it's probably champagne. And I was not to smoke any cigarettes. - -Mother was holding out on the sweater at that time, saying that Sis had -a perfectly good one from Miami, and why not wear that? So I put up a -strong protest about the cigarettes, although I have never smoked but -once as I think the school knows, and that only half through, owing to -getting dizzy. I said that Sis smoked now and then, because she thought -it looked smart; but that, if I was to have a career, I felt that the -soothing influence of tobacco would help a lot. - -So I got the new sweater, and everything looked smooth again, and mother -kissed me on the way out, and said she had not meant to be harsh, but -that my great uncle Putnam had been a notorious drunkard, and I looked -like him, although of a more refined type. - -There was a dreadful row that night, however, when father came home. We -were all dressed for dinner, and waiting in the drawing room, and Leila -was complaining about me, as usual. - -"She looks older than I do now, mother," she said. "If she goes to the -seashore with us I'll have her always tagging at my heals. I don't see -why I can't have my first summer in peace." Oh, yes, we were going to -the shore, after all. Sis wanted it, and everybody does what she wants, -regardless of what they prefer, even fishing. - -"First summer!" I exclaimed. "One would think you were a teething baby!" - -"I was speaking to mother, Barbara. Everyone knows that a debutante -only has one year nowadays, and if she doesn't go off in that year she's -swept away by the flood of new girls the next fall. We might as well -be frank. And while Barbara's not a beauty, as soon as the bones in her -neck get a little flesh on them she won't be hopeless, and she has a -flippant manner that men like." - -"I intend to keep Barbara under my eyes this summer," mother said -firmly. "After last Christmas's happenings, and our discovery today, I -shall keep her with me. She need not, however, interfere with you, -Leila. Her hours are mostly different, and I will see that her friends -are the younger boys." - -I said nothing, but I knew perfectly well she had in mind Eddie Perkins -and Willie Graham, and a lot of other little kids that hang around the -fruit punch at parties, and throw the peas from the croquettes at each -other when the footmen are not near, and pretend they are allowed to -smoke, but have sworn off for the summer. - -I was naturally indignant at Sis's words, which were not filial, to my -mind, but I replied as sweetly as possible: - -"I shall not be in your way, Leila. I ask nothing but food and shelter, -and that perhaps not for long." - -"Why? Do you intend to die?" she demanded. - -"I intend to work," I said. "It's more interesting than dieing, and will -be a novelty in this house." - -Father came in just then, and he said: - -"I'll not wait to dress, Clara. Hello, children. I'll just change my -collar while you ring for the cocktails." - -Mother got up and faced him with majesty. - -"We are not going to have, any" she said. - -"Any what?" said father from the doorway. - -"I have had some fruit juice prepared with a dash of bitters. It is -quite nice. And I'll ask you, James, not to explode before the servants. -I will explain later." - -Father has a very nice disposition but I could see that mother's manner -got on his nerves, as it got on mine. Anyhow there was a terrific fuss, -with Sis playing the piano so that the servants would not hear, and in -the end father had a cocktail. Mother waited until he had had it, and -was quieter, and then she told him about me, and my having a flask in -my suitcase. Of course I could have explained, but if they persisted in -misunderstanding me, why not let them do so, and be miserable? - -"It's a very strange thing, Bab," he said, looking at me, "that -everything in this house is quiet until you come home, and then we get -as lively as kittens in a frying pan. We'll have to marry you off pretty -soon, to save our piece of mind." - -"James!" said my mother. "Remember last winter, please." - -There was no claret or anything with dinner, and father ordered mineral -water, and criticized the food, and fussed about Sis's dressmaker's -bill. And the second man gave notice immediately after we left the -dining room. When mother reported that, as we were having coffee in the -drawing room, father said: - -"Humph! Well, what can you expect? Those fellows have been getting the -best half of a bottle of claret every night since they've been here, and -now it's cut off. Damned if I wouldn't like to leave myself." - -From that time on I knew that I was watched. It made little or no -difference to me. I had my work, and it filled my life. There were times -when my soul was so filled with joy that I could hardly bare it. I had -one act done in two days. I wrote out the love scenes in full, because I -wanted to be sure of what they would say to each other. How I thrilled -as each marvelous burst of fantasy flowed from my pen! But the dialogue -of less interesting parts I left for the actors to fill in themselves. -I consider this the best way, as it gives them a chance to be original, -and not to have to say the same thing over and over. - -Jane Raleigh came over to see me the day after I came home, and I read -her some of the love scenes. She positively wept with excitement. - -"Bab," she said, "if any man, no matter who, ever said those things to -me, I'd go straight into his arms. I couldn't help it. Whose going to -act in it?" - -"I think I'll have Robert Edeson, or Richard Mansfield." - -"Mansfield's dead," said Jane. - -"Honestly?" - -"Honest he is. Why don't you get some of these moving picture actors? -They never have a chance in the Movies, only acting and not talking." - -Well, that sounded logical. And then I read her the place where the -cruel first husband comes back and finds her married again and happy, -and takes the children out to drown them, only he can't because they can -swim, and they pull him in instead. The curtain goes down on nothing but -a few bubbles rising to mark his watery grave. - -Jane was crying. - -"It is too touching for words, Bab!" she said. "It has broken my heart. -I can just close my eyes and see the theater dark, and the stage almost -dark, and just those bubbles coming up and breaking. Would you have to -have a tank?" - -"I daresay," I replied dreamily. "Let the other people worry about that. -I can only give them the material, and hope that they have intelligence -enough to grasp it." - -I think Sis must have told Carter Brooks something about the trouble I -was in, for he brought me a box of candy one afternoon, and winked at me -when mother was not looking. - -"Don't open it here," he whispered. - -So I was forced to control my impatience, though passionately fond of -candy. And when I got to my room later, the box was full of cigarettes. -I could have screamed. It just gave me one more thing to hide, as if a -man's suit and shirt and so on was not sufficient. - -But Carter paid more attention to me than he ever had before, and at -a tea dance somebody had at the country club he took me to one side and -gave me a good talking to. - -"You're being rather a bad child, aren't you?" he said. - -"Certainly not." - -"Well, not bad, but--er--naughty. Now see here, Bab, I'm fond of you, -and you're growing into a mighty pretty girl. But your whole social -life is at stake. For heaven's sake, at least until you're married, cut -out the cigarettes and booze." - -That cut me to the heart, but what could I say? - -Well, July came, and we had rented a house at Little Hampton and -everywhere one went one fell over an open trunk or a barrel containing -silver or linen. - -Mother went around with her lips moving as if in prayer, but she was -really repeating lists, such as sowing basket, table candles, headache -tablets, black silk stockings and tennis rackets. - -Sis got some lovely clothes, mostly imported, but they had a woman come -in and sew for me. Hannah and she used to interrupt my most precious -moments at my desk by running a tape measure around me, or pinning a -paper pattern to me. The sewing woman always had her mouth full of pins, -and once, owing to my remarking that I wished I had been illegitimate, -so I could go away and live my own life, she swallowed one. It caused a -grate deal of excitement, with Hannah blaming me and giving her vinegar -to swallow to soften the pin. Well, it turned out all right, for she -kept on living, but she pretended to have sharp pains all over her here -and there, and if the pin had been as lively as a tadpole and wriggled -from spot to spot, it could not have hurt in so many places. - -Of course they blamed me, and I shut myself up more and more in my -sanctuary. There I lived with the creatures of my dreams, and forgot for -a while that I was only a Sub-Deb, and that Leila's last year's tennis -clothes were being fixed over for me. - -But how true what dear Shakespeare says:= - -`````dreams, - -```Which are the children of an idle brain. - -```Begot of nothing but vain fantasy.= - -I loved my dreams, but alas, they were not enough. After a tortured -hour or two at my desk, living in myself the agonies of my characters, -suffering the pangs of the wife with two husbands and both living, -struggling in the water with the children, fruit of the first union, -dying with number two and blowing my last bubbles heavenward--after all -these emotions, I was done out. - -Jane came in one day and found me prostrate on my couch, with a light of -suffering in my eyes. - -"Dearest!" cried Jane, and gliding to my side, fell on her knees. - -"Jane!" - -"What is it? You are ill?" - -I could hardly more than whisper. In a low tone I said: - -"He is dead." - -"Dearest!" - -"Drowned!" - -At first she thought I meant a member of my family. But when she -understood she looked serious. - -"You are too intense, Bab," she said solemnly. "You suffer too much. You -are wearing yourself out." - -"There is no other way," I replied in broken tones. - -Jane went to the Mirror and looked at herself. Then she turned to me. - -"Others don't do it." - -"I must work out my own Salvation, Jane," I observed firmly. But she had -roused me from my apathy, and I went into Sis's room, returning with -a box of candy some one had sent her. "I must feel, Jane, or I cannot -write." - -"Pooh! Loads of writers get fat on it. Why don't you try comedy? It pays -well." - -"Oh--MONEY!" I said, in a disgusted tone. - -"Your FORTE, of course, is love," she said. "Probably that's because -you've had so much experience." Owing to certain reasons it is generally -supposed that I have experienced the gentle passion. But not so, alas! -"Bab," Jane said, suddenly, "I have been your friend for a long time. I -have never betrayed you. You can trust me with your life. Why don't you -tell me?" - -"Tell you what?" - -"Something has happened. I see it in your eyes. No girl who is happy -and has not a tragic story stays at home shut up at a messy desk when -everyone is out at the club playing tennis. Don't talk to me about a -career. A girl's career is a man and nothing else. And especially after -last winter, Bab. Is--is it the same one?" - -Here I made my fatal error. I should have said at once that there was -no one, just as there had been no one last winter. But she looked so -intense, sitting there, and after all, why should I not have an amorous -experience? I am not ugly, and can dance well, although inclined to lead -because of dancing with other girls all winter at school. So I lay back -on my pillow and stared at the ceiling. - -"No. It is not the same man." - -"What is he like? Bab, I'm so excited I can't sit still." - -"It--it hurts to talk about him," I observed faintly. - -Now I intended to let it go at that, and should have, had not Jane kept -on asking questions. Because I had had a good lesson the winter before, -and did not intend to deceive again. And this I will say--I really told -Jane Raleigh nothing. She jumped to her own conclusions. And as for her -people saying she cannot chum with me any more, I will only say this: If -Jane Raleigh smokes she did not learn it from me. - -Well, I had gone as far as I meant to. I was not really in love with -anyone, although I liked Carter Brooks, and would possibly have loved him -with all the depth of my nature if Sis had not kept an eye on me most of -the time. However---- - -Jane seemed to be expecting something, and I tried to think of some -way to satisfy her and not make any trouble. And then I thought of the -suitcase. So I locked the door and made her promise not to tell, and got -the whole thing out of the toy closet. - -"Wha--what is it?" asked Jane. - -I said nothing, but opened it all up. The flask was gone, but the -rest was there, and Carter's box too. Jane leaned down and lifted the -trousers and poked around somewhat. Then she straitened and said: - -"You have run away and got married, Bab." - -"Jane!" - -She looked at me piercingly. - -"Don't lie to me," she said accusingly. "Or else what are you doing with -a man's whole outfit, including his dirty collar? Bab, I just can't bare -it." - -Well, I saw that I had gone to far, and was about to tell Jane the truth -when I heard the sewing woman in the hall. I had all I could do to get -the things put away, and with Jane looking like death I had to stand -there and be fitted for one of Sis's chiffon frocks, with the low neck -filled in with net. - -"You must remember, Miss Bab," said the human pin cushion, "that you are -still a very young girl, and not out yet." - -Jane got up off the bed suddenly. - -"I--I guess I'll go, Bab," she said. "I don't feel very well." - -As she went out she stopped in the doorway and crossed her heart, -meaning that she would die before she would tell anything. But I was -not comfortable. It is not a pleasant thought that your best friend -considers you married and gone beyond recall, when in truth you are not, -or even thinking about it, except in idle moments. - -The seen now changes. Life is nothing but such changes. No sooner do -we alight on one branch, and begin to sip the honey from it, but we -are taken up and carried elsewhere, perhaps to the mountains or to the -sea-shore, and there left to make new friends and find new methods of -enjoyment. - -The flight--or journey--was in itself an anxious time. For on my -otherwise clear conscience rested the weight of that strange suitcase. -Fortunately Hannah was so busy that I was left to pack my belongings -myself, and thus for a time my guilty secret was safe. I put my things in -on top of the masculine articles, not daring to leave any of them in the -closet, owing to house-cleaning, which is always done before our return -in the fall. - -On the train I had a very unpleasant experience, due to Sis opening my -suitcase to look for a magazine, and drawing out a soiled gentleman's -collar. She gave me a very piercing glance, but said nothing and at the -next opportunity I threw it out of a window, concealed in a newspaper. - -We now approach the catastrophe. My book on play writing divides plays -into Introduction, Development, Crisis, Denouement and Catastrophe. And -so one may divide life. In my case the cinder proved the introduction, -as there was none other. I consider that the suitcase was the -development, my showing it to Jane Raleigh was the crisis, and the -denouement or catastrophe occurred later on. - -Let us then proceed to the catastrophe. - -Jane Raleigh came to see me off at the train. Her family was coming the -next day. And instead of flowers, she put a small bundle into my hands. -"Keep it hidden, Bab," she said, "and tear up the card." - -I looked when I got a chance, and she had crocheted me a wash cloth, -with a pink edge. "For your linen chest," the card said, "and I'm doing -a bath towel to match." - -I tore up the card, but I put the wash cloth with the other things I -was trying to hide, because it is bad luck to throw a gift away. But I -hoped, as I seemed to be getting more things to conceal all the time, -that she would make me a small bath towel, and not the sort as big as a -bed spread. - -Father went with us to get us settled, and we had a long talk while -mother and Sis made out lists for dinners and so forth. - -"Look here, Bab," he said, "something's wrong with you. I seem to have -lost my only boy, and have got instead a sort of tear-y young person I -don't recognize." - -"I'm growing up, father" I said. I did not mean to rebuke him, but ye -gods! Was I the only one to see that I was no longer a child? - -"Sometimes I think you are not very happy with us." - -"Happy?" I pondered. "Well, after all, what is happiness?" - -He took a spell of coughing then, and when it was over he put his arms -around me and was quite affectionate. - -"What a queer little rat it is!" he said. - -I only repeat this to show how even my father, with all his affection and -good qualities, did not understand and never would understand. My -heart was full of a longing to be understood. I wanted to tell him my -yearnings for better things, my aspirations to make my life a great and -glorious thing. AND HE DID NOT UNDERSTAND. - -He gave me five dollars instead. Think of the tragedy of it! - -As we went along, and he pulled my ear and finally went asleep with a -hand on my shoulder, the bareness of my life came to me. I shook with -sobs. And outside somewhere Sis and mother made dinner lists. Then and -there I made up my mind to work hard and achieve, to become great and -powerful, to write things that would ring the hearts of men--and women, -to, of course--and to come back to them some day, famous and beautiful, -and when they sued for my love, to be kind and haughty, but cold. I felt -that I would always be cold, although gracious. - -I decided then to be a writer of plays first, and then later on to act -in them. I would thus be able to say what came into my head, as it was -my own play. Also to arrange the scenes so as to wear a variety of gowns, -including evening things. I spent the rest of the afternoon manicuring -my nails in our state room. - -Well, we got there at last. It was a large house, but everything was -to thin about it. The school will understand this, the same being the -condition of the new freshman dormitory. The walls were to thin, and so -were the floors. The doors shivered in the wind, and palpitated if you -slammed them. Also you could hear every sound everywhere. - -I looked around me in despair. Where, oh where, was I to find my -cherished solitude? Where? - -On account of Hannah hating a new place, and considering the house an -insult to the servants, especially only one bathroom for the lot of them, -she let me unpack alone, and so far I was safe. But where was I to work? -Fate settled that for me however. - - There is no armor against fate; - Death lays his icy hand on Kings. - - J. Shirley; Dirge. - -Previously, however, mother and I had had a talk. She sailed into my -room one evening, dressed for dinner, and found me in my ROBE DE NUIT, -curled up in the window seat admiring the view of the ocean. - -"Well!" she said. "Is this the way you intend going to dinner?" - -"I do not care for any dinner," I replied. Then, seeing she did not -understand, I said coldly. "How can I care for food, mother, when the -sea looks like a dying opal?" - -"Dying pussycat!" mother said, in a very nasty way. "I don't know what -has come over you, Barbara. You used to be a normal child, and there was -some accounting for what you were going to do. But now! Take off that -nightgown, and I'll have Tanney hold off dinner for half an hour." - -Tanney was the butler who had taken Patrick's place. - -"If you insist," I said coldly. "But I shall not eat." - -"Why not?" - -"You wouldn't understand, mother." - -"Oh, I wouldn't? Well, suppose I try," she said, and sat down. "I am -not very intelligent, but if you put it clearly I may grasp it. Perhaps -you'd better speak slowly, also." - -So, sitting there in my room, while the sea throbbed in tireless beats -against the shore, while the light faded and the stars issued, one by -one, like a rash on the face of the sky, I told mother of my dreams. I -intended, I said, to write life as it really is, and not as supposed to -be. - -"It may in places be, ugly" I said, "but truth is my banner. The truth -is never ugly, because it is real. It is, for instance, not ugly if a -man is in love with the wife of another, if it is real love, and not the -passing fancy of a moment." - -Mother opened her mouth, but did not say anything. - -"There was a time," I said, "when I longed for things that now have no -value whatever to me. I cared for clothes and even for the attentions of -the other sex. But that has passed away, mother. I have now no thought -but for my career." - -I watched her face, and soon the dreadful understanding came to me. -She, too, did not understand. My literary aspirations were as nothing to -her! - -Oh, the bitterness of that moment. My mother, who had cared for me as a -child, and obeyed my slightest wish, no longer understood me. And saddest -of all, there was no way out. None. Once, in my youth, I had believed -that I was not the child of my parents at all, but an adopted -one--perhaps of rank and kept out of my inheritance by those who had -selfish motives. But now I knew that I had no rank or inheritance, save -what I should carve out for myself. There was no way out. None. - -Mother rose slowly, staring at me with perfectly fixed and glassy eyes. - -"I am absolutely sure," she said, "that you are on the edge of something. -It may be typhoid, or it may be an elopement. But one thing is certain. -You are not normal." - -With this she left me to my thoughts. But she did not neglect me. Sis -came up after dinner, and I saw mother's fine hand in that. Although not -hungry in the usual sense of the word, I had begun to grow rather empty, -and was nibbling out of a box of chocolates when Sis came. - -She got very little out of me. To one with softness and tenderness I -would have told all, but Sis is not that sort. And at last she showed -her claws. - -"Don't fool yourself for a minute," she said. "This literary pose has -not fooled anybody. Either you're doing it to appear interesting, or -you've done something you're scared about. Which is it?" - -I refused to reply. - -"Because if it's the first, and you're trying to look literary, you are -going about it wrong," she said. "Real Literary People don't go round -mooning and talking about the opal sea." - -I saw mother had been talking, and I drew myself up. - -"They look and act like other people," said Leila, going to the bureau -and spilling powder all over the place. "Look at Beecher." - -"Beecher!" I cried, with a thrill that started inside my elbows. (I -have read this to one or two of the girls, and they say there is no such -thrill. But not all people act alike under the influence of emotion, and -mine is in my arms, as stated.) - -"The playwright," Sis said. "He's staying next door. And if he does any -languishing it is not by himself." - -There may be some who have for a long time had an ideal, but without -hoping ever to meet him, and then suddenly learning that he is nearby, -with indeed but a wall or two between, can be calm and cool. But I am -not like that. Although long suppression has taught me to dissemble at -times, where my heart is concerned I am powerless. - -For it was at last my heart that was touched. I, who had scorned the -other sex and felt that I was born cold and always would be cold, that -day I discovered the truth. Reginald Beecher was my ideal. I had never -spoken to him, nor indeed seen him, except for his pictures. But the -very mention of his name brought a lump to my throat. - -Feeling better immediately, I got Sis out of the room and coaxed Hannah -to bring me some dinner. While she was sneaking it out of the pantry I -was dressing, and soon, as a new being, I was out on the stone bench at -the foot of the lawn, gazing with rapt eyes at the sea. - -But fate was against me. Eddie Perkins saw me there and came over. He -had but recently been put in long trousers, and those not his best -ones but only white flannels. He was never sure of his garters, and was -always looking to see if his socks were coming down. Well, he came over -just as I was sure I saw Reginald Beecher next door on the veranda, and -made himself a nuisance right away, trying all sorts of kid tricks, such -as snapping a rubber band at me, and pulling out hairpins. - -But I felt that I must talk to someone. So I said: - -"Eddie, if you had your choice of love or a career, which would it be?" - -"Why not both," he said, hitching the rubber band onto one of his front -teeth and playing on it. "Neither ought to take up all a fellow's time. -Say, listen to this! Talk about a ukelele!" - -"A woman can never have both." - -He played a while, strumming with one finger until the hand slipped off -and stung him on the lip. - -"Once," I said, "I dreamed of a career. But I believe love's the most -important." - -Well, I shall pass lightly over what followed. Why is it that a girl -cannot speak of love without every member of the other sex present, no -matter how young, thinking it is he? And as for mother maintaining that -I kissed that wretched child, and they saw me from the drawing-room, it -is not true and never was true. It was but one more misunderstanding -which convinced the family that I was carrying on all manner of affairs. - -Carter Brooks had arrived that day, and was staying at the Perkins' -cottage. I got rid of the Perkins' baby, as his nose was bleeding--but I -had not slapped him hard at all, and felt little or no compunction--when -I heard Carter coming down the walk. He had called to see Leila, but -she had gone to a beach dance and left him alone. He never paid any -attention to me when she was around, and I received him coolly. - -"Hello!" he said. - -"Well?" I replied. - -"Is that the way you greet me, Bab?" - -"It's the way I would greet most any left-over," I said. "I eat hash at -school, but I don't have to pretend to like it." - -"I came to see YOU." - -"How youthful of you!" I replied, in stinging tones. - -He sat down on a bench and stared at me. - -"What's got into you lately?" he said. "Just as you're getting to be -the prettiest girl around, and I'm strong for you, you--you turn into a -regular rattlesnake." - -The kindness of his tone upset me considerably, to who so few kind words -had come recently. I am compelled to confess that I wept, although I had -not expected to, and indeed shed few tears, although bitter ones. - -How could I possibly know that the chaste salute of Eddie Perkins and my -head on Carter Brooks' shoulder were both plainly visible against the -rising moon? But this was the case, especially from the house next door. - -But I digress. - -Suddenly Carter held me off and shook me somewhat. - -"Sit up here and tell me about it," he said. "I'm getting more scared -every minute. You are such an impulsive little beast, and you turn the -fellows' heads so--look here, is Jane Raleigh lying, or did you run away -and get married to someone?" - -I am aware that I should have said, then and there, No. But it seemed a -shame to spoil things just as they were getting interesting. So I said, -through my tears: - -"Nobody understands me. Nobody. And I'm so lonely." - -"And of course you haven't run away with anyone, have you?" - -"Not--exactly." - -"Bless you, Bab!" he said. And I might as well say that he kissed me, -because he did, although unexpectedly. Somebody just then moved a chair -on the porch next door and coughed rather loudly, so Carter drew a long -breath and got up. - -"There's something about you lately, Bab, that I don't understand," he -said. "You--you're mysterious. That's the word. In a couple of years -you'll be the real thing." - -"Come and see me then," I said in a demure manner. And he went away. - -So I sat on my bench and looked at the sea and dreamed. It seemed to -me that centuries must have passed since I was a lighthearted girl, -running up and down that beach, paddling, and so forth, with no thought -of the future farther away than my next meal. - -Once I lived to eat. Now I merely ate to live, and hardly that. The -fires of genius must be fed, but no more. - -Sitting there, I suddenly made a discovery. The boat house was near me, -and I realized that upstairs, above the bath-houses, et cetera, there -must be a room or two. The very thought intrigued me (a new word for -interest, but coming into use, and sounding well). - -Solitude--how I craved it for my work. And here it was, or would be when -I had got the place fixed up. True, the next door boat-house was close, -but a boat-house is a quiet place, generally, and I knew that nowhere, -aside from the desert, is there perfect silence. - -I investigated at once, but found the place locked and the boatman gone. -However, there was a lattice, and I climbed up that and got in. I had a -fright there, as it seemed to be full of people, but I soon saw it was -only the family bathing suits hung up to dry. Aside from the odor of -drying things it was a fine study, and I decided to take a small table -there, and the various tools of my profession. - -Climbing down, however, I had a surprise. For a man was just below, and -I nearly put my foot on his shoulder in the darkness. - -"Hello!" he said. "So it's YOU." - -I was quite speechless. It was Mr. Beecher himself, in his dinner -clothes and bareheaded. - -Oh fluttering heart, be still. Oh pen, move steadily. OH TEMPORA O MORES! - -"Let me down," I said. I was still hanging to the lattice. - -"In a moment," he said. "I have an idea that the instant I do you'll -vanish. And I have something to tell you." - -I could hardly believe my ears. - -"You see," he went on, "I think you must move that bench." - -"Bench?" - -"You seem to be so very popular," he said. "And of course I'm only a -transient and don't matter. But some evening one of the admirers may be -on the Patten's porch, while another is with you on the bench. And--the -Moon rises beyond it." - -I was silent with horror. So that was what he thought of me. Like all the -others, he, too, did not understand. He considered me a flirt, when my -only thoughts were serious ones, of immortality and so on. - -"You'd better come down now," he said. "I was afraid to warn you until I -saw you climbing the lattice. Then I knew you were still young enough to -take a friendly word of advice." - -I got down then and stood before him. He was magnificent. Is there -anything more beautiful than a tall man with a gleaming expanse of dress -shirt? I think not. - -But he was staring at me. - -"Look here," he said. "I'm afraid I've made a mistake after all. I -thought you were a little girl." - -"That needn't worry you. Everybody does," I replied. "I'm seventeen, but -I shall be a mere child until I come out." - -"Oh!" he said. - -"One day I am a child in the nursery," I said. "And the next I'm grown -up and ready to be sold to the highest bidder." - -"I beg your pardon, I----" - -"But I am as grown up now as I will ever be," I said. "And indeed more -so. I think a great deal now, because I have plenty of time. But my -sister never thinks at all. She is too busy." - -"Suppose we sit on the bench. The moon is too high to be a menace, and -besides, I am not dangerous. Now, what do you think about?" - -"About life, mostly. But of course there is death, which is beautiful -but cold. And--one always thinks of love, doesn't one?" - -"Does one?" he asked. I could see he was much interested. As for me, I -dared not consider whom it was who sat beside me, almost touching. That -way lay madness. - -"Don't you ever," he said, "reflect on just ordinary things, like -clothes and so forth?" - -I shrugged my shoulders. - -"I don't get enough new clothes to worry about. Mostly I think of my -work." - -"Work?" - -"I am a writer" I said in a low, earnest tone. - -"No! How--how amazing. What do you write?" - -"I'm on a play now." - -"A comedy?" - -"No. A tragedy. How can I write a comedy when a play must always end -in a catastrophe? The book says all plays end in crisis, denouement and -catastrophe." - -"I can't believe it," he said. "But, to tell you a secret, I never read -any books about plays." - -"We are not all gifted from berth, as you are," I observed, not to -merely please him, but because I considered it the simple truth. - -He pulled out his watch and looked at it in the moonlight. - -"All this reminds me," he said, "that I have promised to go to work -tonight. But this is so--er--thrilling that I guess the work can wait. -Well--now go on." - -Oh, the joy of that night! How can I describe it? To be at last in -the company of one who understood, who--as he himself had said in "Her -Soul"--spoke my own language! Except for the occasional mosquito, -there was no sound save the tumescent sea and his voice. - -Often since that time I have sat and listened to conversation. How flat -it sounds to listen to father conversing about Gold, or Sis about Clothes, -or even to the young men who come to call, and always talk about -themselves. - -We were at last interrupted in a strange manner. Mr. Patten came down -their walk and crossed to us, walking very fast. He stopped right in -front of us and said: - -"Look here, Reg, this is about all I can stand." - -"Oh, go away, and sing, or do something," said Mr. Beecher sharply. - -"You gave me your word of honor" said the Patten man. "I can only remind -you of that. Also of the expense I'm incurring, and all the rest of it. -I've shown all sorts of patience, but this is the limit." - -He turned on his heel, but came back for a last word or two. - -"Now see here," he said, "we have everything fixed the way you said you -wanted it. And I'll give you ten minutes. That's all." - -He stalked away, and Mr. Beecher looked at me. - -"Ten minutes of heaven," he said, "and then perdition with that bunch. -Look here," he said, "I--I'm awfully interested in what you are telling -me. Let's cut off up the beach and talk." - -Oh night of nights! Oh moon of moons! - -Our talk was strictly business. He asked me my plot, and although I had -been warned not to do so, even to David Belasco, I gave it to him fully. -And even now, when all is over, I am not sorry. Let him use it if he -will. I can think of plenty of plots. - -The real tragedy is that we met father. He had been ordered to give up -smoking, and I considered he had done so, mother feeling that I should be -encouraged in leaving off cigarettes. So when I saw the cigar I was sure -it was not father. It proved to be, however, and although he passed with -nothing worse than a glare, I knew I was in more trouble. - -At last we reached the bench again, and I said good night. Our relations -continued business-like to the last. He said: - -"Good night, little authoress, and let's have some more talks." - -"I'm afraid I've bored you," I said. - -"Bored me!" he said. "I haven't spent such an evening for years!" - -The family acted perfectly absurd about it. Seeing that they were going -to make a fuss, I refused to say with whom I had been walking. You'd -have thought I had committed a crime. - -"It has come to this, Barbara," mother said, pacing the floor. "You -cannot be trusted out of our sight. Where do you meet all these men? If -this is how things are now, what will it be when given your liberty?" - -Well, it is to painful to record. I was told not to leave the place for -three days, although allowed the boat-house. And of course Sis had to -chime in that she'd heard a rumor I had run away and got married, and -although of course she knew it wasn't true, owing to no time to do so, -still where there was smoke there was fire. - -But I felt that their confidence in me was going, and that night, after -all were in the land of dreams, I took that wretched suit of clothes and -so on to the boathouse, and hid them in the rafters upstairs. - -I come now to the strange event of the next day, and its sequel. - -The Patten place and ours are close together, and no other house near. -Mother had been very cool about the Pattens, owing to nobody knowing -them that we knew. Although I must say they had the most interesting -people all the time, and Sis was crazy to call and meet some of them. - -Jane came that day to visit her aunt, and she ran down to see me first -thing. - -"Come and have a ride," she said. "I've got the runabout, and after that -we'll bathe and have a real time." - -But I shook my head. - -"I'm a prisoner, Jane," I said. - -"Honestly! Is it the play, or something else?" - -"Something else, Jane," I said. "I can tell you nothing more. I am simply -in trouble, as usual." - -"But why make you a prisoner, unless----" She stopped suddenly and -stared at me. - -"He has claimed you!" she said. "He is here, somewhere about this place, -and now, having had time to think it over, you do not want to go to him. -Don't deny it. I see it in your face. Oh, Bab, my heart aches for you." - -It sounded so like a play that I kept it up. Alas, with what results! - -"What else can I do, Jane?" I said. - -"You can refuse, if you do not love him. Oh Bab, I did not say it -before, thinking you loved him. But no man who wears clothes like those -could ever win my heart. At least, not permanently." - -Well, she did most of the talking. She had finished the bath towel, -which was a large size, after all, and monogrammed, and she made me -promise never to let my husband use it. When she went away she left it -with me, and I carried it out and put it on the rafters, with the other -things--I seemed to be getting more to hide every day. - -Things went all wrong the next day. Sis was in a bad temper, and as much -as said I was flirting with Carter Brooks, although she never intends to -marry him herself, owing to his not having money and never having asked -her. - -I spent the morning in fixing up a studio in the boat-house, and felt -better by noon. I took two boards on trestles and made a desk, and -brought a dictionary and some pens and ink out. I use a dictionary -because now and then I am uncertain how to spell a word. - -Events now moved swiftly and terribly. I did not do much work, being -exhausted by my efforts to fix up the studio, and besides, feeling that -nothing much was worth while when one's family did not and never would -understand. At eleven o'clock Sis and Carter and Jane and some others -went in bathing from our dock. Jane called up to me, but I pretended not -to hear. They had a good time judging by the noise, although I should -think Jane would cover her arms and neck in the water, being very thin. -Legs one can do nothing with, although I should think stripes going -around would help. But arms can have sleeves. - -However--the people next door went in too, and I thrilled to the core -when Mr. Beecher left the bath-house and went down to the beech. What -a physique! What shoulders, all brown and muscular! And to think that, -strong as they were, they wrote the tender love scenes of his plays. -Strong and tender--what descriptive words they are! It was then that I -saw he had been vaccinated twice. - -To resume. All the Pattens went in, and a new girl with them, in a -one piece suit. I do not deny that she was pretty. I only say that she -was not modest, and that the way she stood on the Patten's dock -and posed for Mr. Beecher's benefit was unnecessary and well, not -respectable. - -She was nothing to me, nor I to her. But I watched her closely. I -confess that I was interested in Mr. Beecher. Why not? He was a public -character, and entitled to respect. Nay, even to love. But I maintain -and will to my dying day, that such love is different from that -ordinarily born to the other sex, and a thing to be proud of. - -Well, I was seeing a drama and did not even know it. After the rest -had gone, Mr. Patten came to the door into Mr. Beecher's room in the -bath-house--they are all in a row, with doors opening on the sand--and -he had a box in his hand. He looked around, and no one was looking -except me, and he did not see me. He looked very fierce and glum, and -shortly after he carried in a chair and a folding card table. I thought -this was very strange, but imagine how I felt when he came out carrying -Mr. Beecher's clothes! He brought them all, going on his tiptoes and -watching every minute. I felt like screaming. - -However, I considered that it was a practical joke, and I am no spoil -sport. So I sat still and waited. They stayed in the water a long time, -and the girl with the figure was always crawling out on the dock and -then diving in to show off. Leila and the rest got sick of her actions -and came in to lunch. They called up to me, but I said I was not hungry. - -"I don't know what's come over Bab," I heard Sis say to Carter Brooks. -"She's crazy, I think." - -"She's seventeen," he said. "That's all. They get over it mostly, but -she has it hard." - -I loathed him. - -Pretty soon the other crowd came up, and I could see every one knew the -joke but Mr. Beecher. They all scuttled into their doorways, and Mr. -Patten waited till Mr. Beecher was inside and had thrown out the shirt -of his bathing suit. Then he locked the door from the outside. - -There was a silence for a minute. Then Mr. Beecher said in a terrible -voice. - -"So that's the game, is it?" - -"Now listen, Reg," Mr. Patten said, in a soothing voice. "I've tried -everything but force, and now I'm driven to that. I've got to have that -third act. The company's got the first two acts well under way, and I'm -getting wires about every hour. I've got to have that script." - -"You go to Hell!" said Mr. Beecher. You could hear him plainly through -the window, high up in the wall. And although I do not approve of an -oath, there are times when it eases the tortured soul. - -"Now be reasonable, Reg," Mr. Patten pleaded. "I've put a fortune in -this thing, and you're lying down on the job. You could do it in four -hours if you'd put your mind to it." - -There was no answer to this. And he went on: - -"I'll send out food or anything. But nothing to drink. There's champagne -on the ice for you when you've finished, however. And you'll find pens -and ink and paper on the table." - -The answer to this was Mr. Beecher's full weight against the door. But it -held, even against the full force of his fine physic. - -"Even if you do break it open," Mr. Patten said, "you can't go very far -the way you are. Now be a good fellow, and let's get this thing done. -It's for your good as well as mine. You'll make a fortune out of it." - -Then he went into his own door, and soon came out, looking like a -gentleman, unless one knew, as I did, that he was a whited sepulcher. - -How long I sat there, paralyzed with emotion, I do not know. Hannah -came out and roused me from my trance of grief. She is a kindly soul, -although too afraid of mother to be helpful. - -"Come in like a good girl, Miss Bab," she said. "There's that fruit -salad that cook prides herself on, and I'll ask her to brown a bit of -sweetbread for you." - -"Hannah," I said in a low voice, "there is a crime being committed in -this neighborhood, and you talk to me of food." - -"Good gracious, Miss Bab!" - -"I cannot tell you any more than that, Hannah," I said gently, "because -it is only being done now, and I cannot make up my mind about it. But of -course I do not want any food." - -As I say, I was perfectly gentle with her, and I do not understand why -she burst into tears and went away. - -I sat and thought it all over. I could not leave, under the -circumstances. But yet, what was I to do? It was hardly a police matter, -being between friends, as one may say, and yet I simply could not bare -to leave my ideal there in that damp bath-house without either food or, -as one may say, raiment. - -About the middle of the afternoon it occurred to me to try to find a key -for the lock of the bath-house. I therefore left my studio and proceeded -to the house. I passed close by the fatal building, but there was no -sound from it. - -I found a number of trunk-keys in a drawer in the library, and was about -to escape with them, when father came in. He gave me a long look, and -said: - -"Bee still buzzing?" - -I had hoped for some understanding from him, but my spirits fell at this -speech. - -"I am still working, father," I said, in a firm if nervous tone. "I am -not doing as good work as I would if things were different, but--I am at -least content, if not happy." - -He stared at me, and then came over to me. - -"Put out your tongue," he said. - -Even against this crowning infamy I was silent. - -"That's all right," he said. "Now see here, Chicken, get into your -riding togs and we'll order the horses. I don't intend to let this -play-acting upset your health." - -But I refused. "Unless, of course, you insist," I finished. He only -shook his head, however, and left the room. I felt that I had lost my -last friend. - -I did not try the keys myself, but instead stood off a short distance -and threw them through the window. I learned later that they struck -Mr. Beecher on the head. Not knowing, of course, that I had flung them, -and that my reason was pure friendliness and idealism, he threw them -out again with a violent exclamation. They fell at my feet, and lay -there, useless, rejected, tragic. - -At last I summoned courage to speak. - -"Can't I do something to help?" I said, in a quaking voice, to the -window. - -There was no answer, but I could hear a pen scratching on paper. - -"I do so want to help you," I said, in a louder tone. - -"Go, away" said his voice, rather abstracted than angry. - -"May I try the keys?" I asked. Be still, my heart! For the scratching had -ceased. - -"Who's that?" asked the beloved voice. I say 'beloved' because an ideal -is always beloved. The voice was beloved, but sharp. - -"It's me." - -I heard him mutter something, and I think he came to the door. - -"Look here," he said. "Go away. Do you understand? I want to work. And -don't come near here again until seven o'clock." - -"Very well," I said faintly. - -"And then come without fail," he said. - -"Yes, Mr. Beecher," I replied. How commanding he was! Strong but tender! - -"And if anyone comes around making a noise, before that, you shoot them -for me, will you?" - -"SHOOT them?" - -"Drive them off, or use a bean-shooter. Anything. But don't yell at -them. It distracts me." - -It was a sacred trust. I, and only I, stood between him and his MAGNUM -OPUS. I sat down on the steps of our bath-house, and took up my vigil. - -It was about five o'clock when I heard Jane approaching. I knew it was -Jane, because she always wears tight shoes, and limps when unobserved. -Although having the reputation of the smallest foot of any girl in our -set in the city, I prefer comfort and ease, unhampered by heals--French -or otherwise. No man will ever marry a girl because she wears a small -shoe, and catches her heals in holes in the boardwalk, and has to soak -her feet at night before she can sleep. However---- - -Jane came on, and found me crouched on the doorstep, in a lowly -attitude, and holding my finger to my lips. - -She stopped and stared at me. - -"Hello," she said. "What do you think you are? A statue?" - -"Hush, Jane," I said, in a low tone. "I can only ask you to be quiet and -speak in whispers. I cannot give the reason." - -"Good heavens!" she whispered. "What has happened, Bab?" - -"It is happening now, but I cannot explain." - -"WHAT is happening?" - -"Jane," I whispered, earnestly, "you have known me a long time and I have -always been trustworthy, have I not?" - -She nodded. She is never exactly pretty, and now she had opened her -mouth and forgot to close it. - -"Then ask no questions. Trust me, as I am trusting you." It seemed to -me that Mr. Beecher threw his pen at the door, and began to pace the -bath-house. Owing of course to his being in his bare feet, I was not -certain. Jane heard something, too, for she clutched my arm. - -"Bab," she said, in intense tones, "if you don't explain I shall lose my -mind. I feel now that I am going to shriek." - -She looked at me searchingly. - -"Somebody is a prisoner. That's all." - -It was the truth, was it not? And was there any reasons for Jane Raleigh -to jump to conclusions as she did, and even to repeat later in public -that I had told her that my lover had come for me, and that father had -locked him up to prevent my running away with him, immuring him in the -Patten's bath-house? Certainly not. - -Just then I saw the boatman coming who looks after our motor boat, and I -tiptoed to him and asked him to go away, and not to come back unless he -had quieter boats and would not whistle. He acted very ugly about it, I -must say, but he went. - -When I came back, Jane was sitting thinking, with her forehead all -puckered. - -"What I don't understand, Bab," she said, "is, why no noise?" - -"Because he is writing," I explained. "Although his clothing has been -taken away, he is writing. I don't think I told you, Jane, but that is -his business. He is a writer. And if I tell you his name you will faint -with surprise." - -She looked at me searchingly. - -"Locked up--and writing, and his clothing gone! What's he writing, Bab? -His will?" - -"He is doing his duty to the end, Jane," I said softly. "He is writing -the last act of a play. The company is rehearsing the first two acts, -and he has to get this one ready, though the heavens fall." - -But to my surprise, she got up and said to me, in a firm voice: - -"Either you are crazy, Barbara Archibald, or you think I am. You've -been stuffing me for about a week, and I don't believe a word of it. And -you'll apologize to me or I'll never speak to you again." - -She said this loudly, and then went away, And Mr. Beecher said, through -the door. - -"What the devil's the row about?" - -Perhaps my nerves were going, or possibly it was no luncheon and -probably no dinner. But I said, just as if he had been an ordinary -person: - -"Go on and write and get through. I can't stew on these steps all day." - -"I thought you were an amiable child." - -"I'm not amiable and I'm not a child." - -"Don't spoil your pretty face with frowns." - -"It's MY face. And you can't see it anyhow," I replied, venting in -feminine fashion, my anger at Jane on the nearest object. - -"Look here," he said, through the door, "you've been my good angel. I'm -doing more work than I've done in two months, although it was a dirty, -low-down way to make me do it. You're not going back on me now, are -you?" - -Well, I was mollified, as who would not be? So I said: - -"Well?" - -"What did Patten do with my clothes?" - -"He took them with him." He was silent, except for a muttered word. - -"You might throw those keys back again," he said. "Let me know first, -however. You're the most accurate thrower I've ever seen." - -So I threw them through the window and I believe hit the ink bottle. -But no matter. And he tried them, but none availed. - -So he gave up, and went back to work, having saved enough ink to finish -with. But a few minutes later he called to me again, and I moved to the -doorstep, where I sat listening, while apparently admiring the sea. He -explained that having been thus forced, he had almost finished the last -act, and it was a corker. And he said if he had his clothes and some -money, and a key to get out, he'd go right back to town with it and -put it in rehearsal. And at the same time he would give the Pattens -something to worry about over night. Because, play or no play, it was a -rotten thing to lock a man in a bath-house and take his clothes away. - -"But of course I can't get my clothes," he said. "They'll take cussed -good care of that. And there's the key too. We're up against it, little -sister." - -Although excited by his calling me thus, I retained my faculties, and -said: - -"I have a suit of clothes you can have." - -"Thanks awfully," he said. "But from the slight acquaintance we have -had, I don't believe they would fit me." - -"Gentleman's clothes," I said frigidly. - -"You have?" - -"In my studio," I said. "I can bring them, if you like. They look quite -good, although creased." - -"You know" he said, after a moment's silence, "I can't quite believe -this is really happening to me! Go and bring the suit of clothes, -and--you don't happen to have a cigar, I suppose?" - -"I have a large box of cigarettes." - -"It is true," I heard him say through the door. "It is all true. I am -here, locked in. The play is almost done. And a very young lady on the -doorstep is offering me a suit of clothes and tobacco. I pinch myself. I -am awake." - -Alas! Mingled with my joy at serving my ideal there was also grief. My -idle had feet of clay. He was a slave, like the rest of us, to his body. -He required clothes and tobacco. I felt that, before long, he might even -ask for an apple, or something to stay the pangs of hunger. This I felt -I could not bare. - -Perhaps I would better pass over quickly the events of the next hour. I -got the suit and the cigarettes, and even Jane's bath towel, and threw -them in to him. Also I believe he took a shower, as I heard the water -running, At about seven o'clock he said he had finished the play. He put -on the clothes which he observed almost fitted him, although gayer than -he usually wore, and said that if I would give him a hair pin he thought -he could pick the lock. But he did not succeed. - -Being now dressed, however, he drew a chair to the window and we -talked together. It seemed like a dream that I should be there, on such -intimate terms with a great playwright, who had just, even if under -compulsion, finished a last act, I bared my very soul to him, such as -about resembling Julia Marlowe, and no one understanding my craving to -achieve a place in the world of art. We were once interrupted by Hannah -looking for me for dinner. But I hid in a bath-house, and she went away. - -What was food to me compared with such a conversation? - -When Hannah had disappeared, he said suddenly: - -"It's rather unusual, isn't it, your having a suit of clothes and -everything in your--er--studio?" - -But I did not explain fully, merely saving that it was a painful story. - -At half past seven I saw mother on the veranda looking for me, and I -ducked out of sight, I was by this time very hungry, although I did not -like to mention the fact, But Mr. Beecher made a suggestion, which was -this: that the Pattens were evidently going to let him starve until -he got through work, and that he would see them in perdition before -he would be the butt for their funny remarks when they freed him. He -therefore tried to escape out the window, but stuck fast, and finally gave -it up. - -At last he said: - -"Look here, you're a curious child, but a nervy one. How'd you like to -see if you can get the key? If you do we'll go to a hotel and have a -real meal, and we can talk about your career." - -Although quivering with terror, I consented. How could I do otherwise, -with such a prospect? For now I began to see that all other emotions -previously felt were as nothing to this one. I confess, without shame, -that I felt the stirring of the tender passion in my breast. Ah me, that -it should have died ere it had hardly lived! - -"Where is the key?" I asked, in a rapt but anxious tone. - -He thought a while. - -"Generally," he said, "it hangs on a nail at the back entry. But the -chances are that Patten took it up to his room this time, for safety, -You'd know it if you saw it. It has some buttons off somebody's bathing -suit tied to it." - -Here it was necessary to hide again, as father came stocking out, -calling me in an angry tone. But shortly after-wards I was on my way -to the Patten's house, on shaking knees. It was by now twilight, that -beautiful period of romance, although the dinner hour also. Through the -dusk I sped, toward what? I knew not. - -The Pattens and the one-piece lady were at dinner, and having a very -good time, in spite of having locked a guest in the bath-house. Being -used to servants and prowling around, since at one time when younger I -had a habit of taking things from the pantry, I was quickly able to see -that the key was not in the entry. I therefore went around to the front -door and went in, being prepared, if discovered, to say that someone was -in their bath-house and they ought to know it. But I was not heard among -their sounds of revelry, and was able to proceed upstairs, which I did. - -But not having asked which was Mr. Patten's room, I was at a loss and -almost discovered by a maid who was turning down the beds--much too -early, also, and not allowed in the best houses until nine-thirty, since -otherwise the rooms look undressed and informal. - -I had but time to duck into another chamber, and from there to a closet. - -I REMAINED IN THAT CLOSET ALL NIGHT. - -I will explain. No sooner had the maid gone than a woman came into the -room and closed the door. I heard her moving around and I suddenly felt -that she was going to bed, and might get her robe de nuit out of the -closet. I was petrified. But it seems, while she really WAS undressing -at that early hour, the maid had laid her night clothes out, and I was -saved. - -Very soon a knock came to the door, and somebody came in, like Mrs. -Patten's voice and said: "You're not going to bed, surely!" - -"I'm going to pretend to have a sick headache," said the other person, -and I knew it was the one-piece lady. "He's going to come back in a -frenzy, and he'll take it out on me, unless I'm prepared." - -"Poor Reggie!" said Mrs. Patten, "To think of him locked in there alone, -and no clothes or anything. It's too funny for words." - -"You're not married to him." - -My heart stopped beating. Was SHE married to him? She was indeed. My -dream was over. And the worst part of it was that for a married man -I had done without food or exercise and now stood in a hot closet in -danger of a terrible fuss. - -"No, thank heaven!" said Mrs. Patten. "But it was the only way to make -him work. He is a lazy dog. But don't worry. We'll feed him before he -sees you. He's always rather tractable after he's fed." - -Were ALL my dreams to go? Would they leave nothing to my shattered -illusions? Alas, no. - -"Jolly him a little, too," said----can I write it?--Mrs. Beecher. "Tell -him he's the greatest thing in the world. That will help some. He's -vain, you know, awfully vain. I expect he's written a lot of piffle." - -Had they listened they would have heard a low, dry sob, wrung from -my tortured heart. But Mrs. Beecher had started a vibrator, and my -anguished cry was lost. - -"Well," said Mrs. Patten, "Will has gone down to let him out, I expect -he'll attack him. He's got a vile temper. I'll sit with you till he -comes back, if you don't mind. I'm feeling nervous." - -It was indeed painful to recall the next half hour. I must tell the -truth however. They discussed us, especially mother, who had not called. -They said that we thought we were the whole summer colony, although -every one was afraid of mother's tongue, and nobody would marry Leila, -except Carter Brooks, and he was poor and no prospects. And that I was -an incorrigible, and carried on something ghastly, and was going to be put -in a convent. I became justly furious and was about to step out and tell -them a few plain facts, when somebody hammered at the door and then came -in. It was Mr. Patten. - -"He's gone!" he said. - -"Well, he won't go far, in bathing trunks," said Mrs. Beecher. - -"That's just it. His bathing trunks are there." - -"Well, he won't go far without them!" - -"He's gone so far I can't locate him." - -I heard Mrs. Beecher get up. - -"Are you in earnest, Will?" she said. "Do you mean that he has gone -without a stitch of clothes, and can't be found?" - -Mrs. Patten gave a sort of screech. - -"You don't think--oh Will, he's so temperamental. You don't think he's -drowned himself?" - -"No such luck," said Mrs. Beecher, in a cold tone. I hated her for it. -True, he had deceived me. He was not as I had thought him. In our two -conversations he had not mentioned his wife, leaving me to believe him -free to love "where he listed," as the poet says. - -"There are a few clues," said Mr. Patten. "He got out by means of a wire -hairpin, for one thing. And he took the manuscript with him, which he'd -hardly have done if he meant to drown himself. Or even if, as we fear, -he had no pockets. He has smoked a lot of cigarettes out of a candy box, -which I did not supply him, and he left behind a bath towel that does -not, I think, belong to us." - -"I should think he would have worn it," said Mrs. Beecher, in a -scornful tone. - -"Here's the bath towel," Mr. Patten went on. "You may recognize the -initials. I don't." - -"B. P. A.," said Mrs. Beecher. "Look here, don't they call that--that -flibbertigibbet next door 'Barbara'?" - -"The little devil!" said Mr. Patten, in a raging tone. "She let him out, -and of course he's done no work on the play or anything. I'd like to -choke her." - -Nobody spoke then, and my heart beat fast and hard. I leave it to -anybody, how they'd like to be shut in a closet and threatened with a -violent death from without. Would or would they not ever be the same -person afterwords? - -"I'll tell you what I'd do," said the Beecher woman. "I'd climb up the -back of father, next door, and tell him what his little daughter has -done, because I know she's mixed up in it, towel or no towel. Reg is -always sappy when they're seventeen. And she's been looking moon-eyed at -him for days." - -Well, the Pattens went away, and Mrs. Beecher manicured her nails,--I -could hear her filing them--and sang around and was not much concerned, -although for all she knew he was in the briny deep, a corpse. How true -it is that "the paths of glory lead but to the grave." - -I got very tired and much hotter, and I sat down on the floor. After what -seemed like hours, Mrs. Patten came back, all breathless, and she said: - -"The girl's gone too, Clare." - -"What girl?" - -"Next door. If you want excitement, they've got it. The mother is in -hysterics and there's a party searching the beach for her body. The -truth is, of course, if that towel means anything." - -"That Reg has run away with her, of course," said Mrs. Beecher, in a -resigned tone. "I wish he would grow up and learn something. He's becoming -a nuisance. And when there are so many interesting people to run away -with, to choose that chit!" - -Yes, she said that, And in my retreat I could but sit and listen, and -of course perspire, which I did freely. Mrs. Patten went away, after -talking about the "scandal" for some time. And I sat and thought of the -beach being searched for my body, a thought which filled my eyes with -tears of pity for what might have been, I still hoped Mrs. Beecher would -go to bed, but she did not. Through the key hole I could see her with a -book, reading, and not caring at all that Mr. Beecher's body, and mine -too, might be washing about in the cruel sea, or have eloped to New York. - -I loathed her. - -At last I must have slept, for a bell rang, and there I was still in the -closet, and she was answering it. - -"Arrested?" she said, "Well, I should think he'd better be, if what you -say about clothing is true.... Well, then--what's he arrested for?... -Oh, kidnapping! Well, if I'm any judge, they ought to arrest the -Archibald girl for kidnapping HIM. No, don't bother me with it tonight. -I'll try to read myself to sleep." - -So this was marriage! Did she flee to her unjustly accused husband's side -and comfort him? Not she. She went to bed. - -At daylight, being about smothered, I opened the closet door and drew a -breath of fresh air. Also I looked at her, and she was asleep, with her -hair in patent wavers. Ye gods! - -The wife of Reginald Beecher thus to distort her looks at night! I could -not bare it. - -I averted my eyes, and on my tiptoes made for the window. - -My sufferings were over. In a short time I had slid down and was making -my way through the dewy morn toward my home. Before the sun was up, -or more than starting, I had climbed to my casement by means of a wire -trellis, and put on my 'robe de nuit'. But before I settled to sleep I -went to the pantry and there satisfied the pangs of hunger having had -nothing since breakfast the day before. All the lights seemed to be on, -on the lower floor, which I considered wasteful of Tanney, the butler. -But being sleepy, gave it no further thought. And so to bed, as the -great English dairy-keeper, Pepys, had said in his dairy. - -It seemed but a few moments later that I heard a scream, and opening my -eyes, saw Leila in the doorway. She screamed again, and mother came and -stood beside her. Although very drowsy, I saw that they still wore their -dinner clothes. - -They stared as if transfixed, and then mother gave a low moan, and said -to Sis: - -"That unfortunate man has been in jail all night." - -And Sis said: "Jane Raleigh is crazy. That's all." Then they looked at -me, and mother burst into tears. But Sis said: - -"You little imp! Don't tell me you've been in that bed all night. I KNOW -BETTER." - -I closed my eyes. They were not of the understanding sort, and never -would be. - -"If that's the way you feel I shall tell you nothing," I said wearily. - -"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" mother said, in a slow and dreadful voice. - -Well, I saw then that a part of the truth must be disclosed, especially -since she has for some time considered sending me to a convent, although -without cause, and has not done so for fear of my taking the veil. So I -told her this. I said: - -"I spent the night shut in a clothes closet, but where is my secret. -I cannot tell you." - -"Barbara! You MUST tell me." - -"It is not my secret alone, mother." - -She caught at the foot of the bed. - -"Who was shut with you in that closet?" she demanded in a shaking voice. -"Barbara, there is another wretched man in all this. It could not have -been Mr. Beecher, because he has been in the station house all night." - -I sat up, leaning on one elbow, and looked at her earnestly. - -"Mother" I said, "you have done enough damage, interfering with -careers--not only mine, but another's imperiled now by not having a -last act. I can tell you no more, except"--here my voice took on a deep -and intense fiber--"that I have done nothing to be ashamed of, although -unconventional." - -Mother put her hands to her face, and emitted a low, despairing cry. - -"Come," Leila said to her, as to a troubled child. "Come, and Hannah can -use the vibrator on your spine." - -So she went, but before she left she said: - -"Barbara, if you will only promise to be a good girl, and give us a -chance to live this scandal down, I will give you anything you ask for." - -"Mother!" Sis said, in an angry tone. - -"What can I do, Leila?" mother said. "The girl is attractive, and -probably men will always be following her and making trouble. Think of -last winter. I know it is bribery, but it is better than scandal." - -"I want nothing, mother," I said, in a low, heart stricken tone, "save to -be allowed to live my own life and to have a career." - -"My heavens," mother said, "if I hear that word again, I'll go crazy." - -So she went away, and Sis came over and looked down at me. - -"Well!" she said. "What's happened anyhow? Of course you've been up to -some mischief, but I don't suppose anybody will ever know the truth -of it. I was hoping you'd make it this time and get married, and stop -worrying us." - -"Go away, please, and let me sleep," I said. "As to getting married, -under no circumstances did I expect to marry him. He has a wife already. -Personally, I think she's a total loss. She wears patent wavers at -night, and sleeps with her mouth open. But who am I to interfere with -the marriage bond? I never have and never will." - -But Sis only gave me a wild look and went away. - - -This, dear readers and schoolmates, is the true story of my meeting with -and parting from Reginald Beecher, the playwright. Whatever the papers -may say, it is not true, except the fact that he was recognized by Jane -Raleigh, who knew the suit he wore, when in the act of pawning his ring -to get money to escape from his captors (I. E., The Pattens). It -was the necktie which struck her first, and also his guilty expression. -As I was missing by that time, Jane put two and two together and made an -elopement. - -Sometimes I sit and think things over, my fingers wandering "over the -ivory keys" of the typewriter they gave me to promise not to elope with -anybody--although such a thing is far from my mind--and the world seems -a cruel and unjust place, especially to those with ambition. - -For Reginald Beecher is no longer my ideal, my night of the pen. I will -tell about that in a few words. - -Jane Raleigh and I went to a matinee late in September before returning -to our institutions of learning. Jane clutched my arm as we looked at our -programs and pointed to something. - -How my heart beat! For whatever had come between us, I was still loyal -to him. - -This was a new play by him! - -"Ah," my heart seemed to say, "now again you will hear his dear words, -although spoken by alien mouths. - -"The love scenes----" - -I could not finish. Although married and forever beyond me, I could -still hear his manly tones as issuing from the door of the Bath-house. -I thrilled with excitement. As the curtain rose I closed my eyes in -ecstasy. - -"Bab!" Jane said, in a quavering tone. - -I looked. What did I see? The bath-house itself, the very one. And as -I stared I saw a girl, wearing her hair as I wear mine, cross the stage -with a bunch of keys in her hand, and say to the bath-house door. - -"Can't I do something to help? I do so want to help you." - -MY VERY WORDS. - -And a voice from beyond the bath-house door said: - -"Who's that?" - -HIS WORDS. - -I could bare no more. Heedless of Jane's protests and anguish, I got up -and went out, into the light of day. My body was bent with misery. -Because at last I knew that, like mother and all the rest, he too, did -not understand me and never would! To him I was but material, the stuff -that plays are made of!= - -```And now we know that he never could know, - -```And did not understand. - -```Kipling.= - -Ignoring Jane's observation that the tickets had cost two dollars each, -I gathered up the scattered skeins of my life together, and fled. - - - -CHAPTER III. HER DIARY: BEING THE DAILY JOURNAL OF THE SUB-DEB - - -JANUARY 1st. I have today received this diary from home, having come -back a few days early to make up a French condition. - -Weather, clear and cold. - -New Year's dinner. Roast chicken (Turkey being very expensive), mashed -turnips, sweet potatoes and mince pie. - -It is my intention to record in this book the details of my Daily Life, -my thoughts which are to sacred for utterance, and my ambitions. Because -who is there to whom I can speak them? I am surrounded by those who -exist for the mere pleasures of the day, or whose lives are bound up in -recitations. - -For instance, at dinner today, being mostly faculty and a few girls -who live in the far West, the conversation was entirely on buying a -phonograph for dancing because the music teacher has the measles and -is quarantined in the infirmary. And on Miss Everett's cousin, who has -written a play. - -When one looks at Miss Everett, one recognizes that no cousin of hers -could write a play. - -New Year's resolution--to help someone every day. Today helped -Mademoiselle to put on her rubbers. - - -JANUARY 2ND. Today I wrote my French theme, beginning, "Les hommes -songent moins a leur ame qua leur corps." Mademoiselle sent for me and -objected, saying that it was not a theme for a young girl, and that I -must write a new one, on the subject of pears. How is one to develop in -this atmosphere? - -Some of the girls are coming back. They straggle in, and put the favors -they got at cotillions on the dresser, and their holiday gifts, and each -one relates some amorous experience while at home. Dear Diary, is there -something wrong with me, that love has passed me by? I have had offers -of devotion but none that appealed to me, being mostly either too young or -not attracting me by physical charm. I am not cold, although frequently -accused of it, Beneath my frigid exterior beats a warm heart. I intend -to be honest in this diary, and so I admit it. But, except for passing -fancies--one being, alas, for a married man--I remain without the divine -passion. - -What must it be to thrill at the approach of the loved form? To harken -to each ring of the telephone bell, in the hope that, if it is not -the idolized voice, it is at least a message from it? To waken in the -morning and, looking around the familiar room, to muse: "Today I may see -him--on the way to the post office, or rushing past in his racing car." -And to know that at the same moment HE to is musing: "Today I may see -her, as she exercises herself at basket ball, or mounts her horse for a -daily canter!" - -Although I have no horse. The school does not care for them, considering -walking the best exercise. - -Have flunked the French again, Mademoiselle not feeling well, and -marking off for the smallest thing. - -Today's helpful deed--assisted one of the younger girls with her -spelling. - - -JANUARY 4TH. Miss Everett's cousin's play is coming here. The school is -to have free tickets, as they are "trying it on the dog." Which means -seeing if it is good enough for the large cities. - -We have decided, if Everett marks us well in English from now on, to -applaud it, but if she is unpleasant, to sit still and show no interest. - - -JANUARY 5TH, 6TH, 7TH, 8TH. Bad weather, which is depressing to one of -my temperament. Also boil on nose. - -A few helpful deeds--nothing worth putting down. - - -JANUARY 9TH. Boil cut. - -Again I can face my image in my mirror, and not shrink. - -Mademoiselle is sick and no French. MISERICORDE! - -Helpful deed--sent Mademoiselle some fudge, but this school does not -encourage kindness. Reprimanded for cooking in room. School sympathizes -with me. We will go to Miss Everett's cousin's play, but we will damn it -with faint praise. - - -JANUARY 10TH. I have written this date, and now I sit back and regard -it. As it is impressed on this white paper, so, Dear Diary, is it -written on my soul. To others it may be but the tenth of January. To me -it is the day of days. Oh, tenth of January! Oh, Monday. Oh, day of my -awakening! - -It is now late at night, and around me my schoolmates are sleeping the -sleep of the young and heart free. Lights being off, I am writing by the -faint luminosity of a candle. Propped up in bed, my mackinaw coat over -my 'robe de nuit' for warmth, I sit and dream. And as I dream I still hear -in my ears his final words: "My darling. My woman!" - -How wonderful to have them said to one night after night, the while -being in his embrace, his tender arms around one! I refer to the heroine -in the play, to whom he says the above rapturous words. - -Coming home from the theater tonight, still dazed with the revelation of -what I am capable of, once aroused, I asked Miss Everett if her cousin -had said anything about Mr. Egleston being in love with the leading -character. She observed: - -"No. But he may be. She is very pretty." - -"Possibly," I remarked. "But I should like to see her in the morning, -when she gets up." - -All the girls were perfectly mad about Mr. Egleston, although pretending -merely to admire his Art. But I am being honest, as I agreed at the -start, and now I know, as I sit here with the soft, although chilly -breezes of the night blowing on my hot brow, now I know that this thing -that has come to me is Love. Moreover, it is the Love of my Life. He will -never know it, but I am his. He is exactly my ideal, strong and tall and -passionate. And clever, too. He said some awfully clever things. - -I believe that he saw me. He looked in my direction. But what does it -matter? I am small, insignificant. He probably thinks me a mere child, -although seventeen. - -What matters, oh Diary, is that I am at last in Love. It is hopeless. -Just now, when I had written that word, I buried my face in my hands. -There is no hope. None. I shall never see him again. He passed out of my -life on the 11:45 train. But I love him. MON DIEU, how I love him! - - -JANUARY 11TH. We are going home. WE ARE GOING HOME. WE ARE GOING HOME. -WE ARE GOING HOME! - -Mademoiselle has the measles. - - -JANUARY 13TH. The family managed to restrain its ecstasy on seeing me -today. The house is full of people, as they are having a dinner-dance -tonight. Sis had moved into my room, to let one of the visitors have -hers, and she acted in a very unfilial manner when she came home and -found me in it. - -"Well!" she said. "Expelled at last?" - -"Not at all," I replied in a lofty manner. "I am here through no fault -of my own. And I'd thank you to have Hannah take your clothes off my -bed." - -She gave me a bitter glance. - -"I never knew it to fail!" she said. "Just as everything is fixed, and -we're recovering from you're being here for the holidays, you come back -and stir up a lot of trouble. What brought you, anyhow?" - -"Measles." - -She snatched up her ball gown. - -"Very well," she said. "I'll see that you're quarantined, Miss Barbara, -all right. And If you think you're going to slip downstairs tonight -after dinner and WORM yourself into this party, I'll show you." - -She flounced out, and shortly afterward mother took a minute from the -florist, and came upstairs. - -"I do hope you are not going to be troublesome, Barbara," she said. "You -are too young to understand, but I want everything to go well tonight, -and Leila ought not to be worried." - -"Can't I dance a little?" - -"You can sit on the stairs and watch." She looked fidgety. "I--I'll -send up a nice dinner, and you can put on your dark blue, with a fresh -collar, and--it ought to satisfy you, Barbara, that you are at home and -possibly have brought the measles with you, without making a lot of fuss. -When you come out----" - -"Oh, very well," I murmured, in a resigned tone. "I don't care enough -about it to want to dance with a lot of souses anyhow." - -"Barbara!" said mother. - -"I suppose you have some one on the string for her," I said, with the -abandon of my thwarted hopes. "Well, I hope she gets him. Because if not, -I daresay I shall be kept in the cradle for years to come." - -"You will come out when you reach a proper age," she said, "if your -impertinence does not kill me off before my time." - -Dear Diary, I am fond of my mother, and I felt repentant and stricken. - -So I became more agreeable, although feeling all the time that she does -not and never will understand my temperament. I said: - -"I don't care about society, and you know it, mother. If you'll keep -Leila out of this room, which isn't much but is my castle while here, -I'll probably go to bed early." - -"Barbara, sometimes I think you have no affection for your sister." - -I had agreed to honesty January first, so I replied. - -"I have, of course, mother. But I am fonder of her while at school than -at home. And I should be a better sister if not condemned to her old -things, including hats which do not suit my type." - -Mother moved over majestically to the door and shut it. Then she came -and stood over me. - -"I've come to the conclusion, Barbara," she said, "to appeal to your -better nature. Do you wish Leila to be married and happy?" - -"I've just said, mother----" - -"Because a very interesting thing is happening," said mother, trying to -look playful. "I--a chance any girl would jump at." - -So here I sit, Dear Diary, while there are sounds of revelry below, and -Sis jumps at her chance, which is the Honorable Page Beresford, who is -an Englishman visiting here because he has a weak heart and can't fight. -And father is away on business, and I am all alone. - -I have been looking for a rash, but no luck. - -Ah me, how the strains of the orchestra recall that magic night in the -theater when Adrian Egleston looked down into my eyes and although -ostensibly to an actress, said to my beating heart: "My Darling! My -Woman!" - - -3 A. M. I wonder if I can control my hands to write. - -In mother's room across the hall I can hear furious voices, and I know -that Leila is begging to have me sent to Switzerland. Let her beg. -Switzerland is not far from England, and in England---- - -Here I pause to reflect a moment. How is this thing possible? Can I love -members of the other sex? And if such is the case, how can I go on -with my life? Better far to end it now, than to perchance marry one, and -find the other still in my heart. The terrible thought has come to me -that I am fickle. - -Fickle or polygamous--which? - -Dear Diary, I have not been a good girl. My New Year's Resolutions have -gone to airy nothing. - -The way they went was this: I had settled down to a quiet evening, -spent with his beloved picture which I had clipped from a newspaper. -(Adrian's. I had not as yet met the other.) And, as I sat in my chamber, -I grew more and more desolate. I love life, although pessimistic at -times. And it seemed hard that I should be there, in exile, while my -sister, only 20 months older, was jumping at her chance below. - -At last I decided to try on one of Sis's frocks and see how I looked in -it. I thought, if it looked all right, I might hang over the stairs and -see what I then scornfully termed "His Nibs." Never again shall I so -call him. - -I got an evening gown from Sis's closet, and it fitted me quite well, -although tight at the waste for me, owing to basketball. It was also -too low, so that when I had got it all hooked about four inches of my -lingerie showed. As it had been hard as anything to hook, I was obliged -to take the scissors and cut off the said lingerie. The result was good, -although very decollete. I have no bones in my neck, or practically so. - -And now came my moment of temptation. How easy to put my hair up on -my head, and then, by the servant's staircase, make my way to the scene -below! - -I, however, considered that I looked pale, although mature. I looked -at least nineteen. So I went into Sis's room, which was full of evening -wraps but empty, and put on a touch of rouge. With that and my eyebrows -blackened, I would not have known myself, had I not been certain it was I -and no other. - -I then made my way down the back stairs. - -Ah me, Dear Diary, was that but a few hours ago? Is it but a short time -since Mr. Beresford was sitting at my feet, thinking me a debutante, -and staring soulfully into my very heart? Is it but a matter of minutes -since Leila found us there, and in a manner which revealed the true -feeling she has for me, ordered me to go upstairs and take off Maddie -Mackenzie's gown? - -(Yes, it was not Leila's after all. I had forgotten that Maddie had -taken her room. And except for pulling it somewhat at the waist, I am -sure I did not hurt the old thing.) - -I shall now go to bed and dream. Of which one I know not. My heart is -full. Romance has come at last into my dull and dreary life. Below, the -revelers have gone. The flowers hang their herbaceous heads. The music -has flowed away into the river of the past. I am alone with my Heart. - - -JANUARY 14TH. How complicated my life grows, Dear Diary! How full and -yet how incomplete! How everything begins and nothing ends! - -HE is in town. - -I discovered it at breakfast. I knew I was in for it, and I got down -early, counting on mother breakfasting in bed. I would have felt better -if father had been at home, because he understands somewhat the way they -keep me down. But he was away about an order for shells (not sea; war), -and I was to bare my chiding alone. I had eaten my fruit and cereal, and -was about to begin on sausage, when mother came in, having risen early -from her slumbers to take the decorations to the hospital. - -"So here you are, wretched child!" she said, giving me one of her coldest -looks. "Barbara, I wonder if you ever think whither you are tending." - -I ate a sausage. - -What, Dear Diary, was there to say? - -"To disobey!" she went on. "To force yourself on the attention of Mr. -Beresford, in a borrowed dress, with your eyelashes blackened and your -face painted----" - -"I should think, mother," I observed, "that if he wants to marry into -this family, and is not merely being dragged into it, that he ought to -see the worst at the start." She glared, without speaking. "You know," I -continued, "it would be a dreadful thing to have the ceremony performed -and everything too late to back out, and then have ME sprung on him. It -wouldn't be honest, would it?" - -"Barbara!" she said in a terrible tone. "First disobedience, and now -sarcasm. If your father was only here! I feel so alone and helpless." - -Her tone cut me to the heart. After all she was my own mother, or at -least maintained so, in spite of numerous questions engendered by our -lack of resemblance, moral as well as physical. But I did not offer -to embarrass her, as she was at that moment poring out her tea. I hid my -misery behind the morning paper, and there I beheld the fated vision. -Had I felt any doubt as to the state of my affections it was settled -then. My heart leaped in my bosom. My face suffused. My hands trembled -so that a piece of sausage slipped from my fork. His picture looked out -at me with that well remembered gaze from the depths of the morning -paper! - -Oh, Adrian, Adrian! - -Here in the same city as I, looking out over perchance the same -newspaper to perchance the same sun, wondering--ah, what was he -wondering? - -I was not even then, in that first rapture, foolish about him. I knew -that to him I was probably but a tender memory. I knew, too, that he was -but human and probably very conceited. On the other hand, I pride myself -on being a good judge of character, and he carried nobility in every -lineament. Even the obliteration of one eye by the printer could only -hamper but not destroy his dear face. - -"Barbara," mother said sharply. "I am speaking. Are you being sulky?" - -"Pardon me, mother," I said in my gentlest tones. "I was but dreaming." -And as she made no reply, but rang the bell viciously, I went on, -pursuing my line of thought. "Mother, were you ever in love?" - -"Love! What sort of love?" - -I sat up and stared at her. - -"Is there more than one sort?" I demanded. - -"There is a very silly, schoolgirl love," she said, eying me, "that -people outgrow and blush to look back on." - -"Do you?" - -"Do I what?" - -"Do you blush to look back on it?" - -Mother rose and made a sweeping gesture with her right arm. - -"I wash my hands of you!" she said. "You are impertinent and indelicate. -At your age I was an innocent child, not troubling with things that did -not concern me. As for love, I had never heard of it until I came out." - -"Life must have burst on you like an explosion," I observed. "I suppose -you thought that babies----" - -"Silence!" mother shrieked. And seeing that she persisted in ignoring -the real things of life while in my presence, I went out, clutching the -precious paper to my heart. - - -JANUARY 15TH. I am alone in my boudoir (which is really the old -schoolroom, and used now for a sewing room). - -My very soul is sick, oh Diary. How can I face the truth? How write it -out for my eyes to see? But I must. For something must be done! The play -is failing. - -The way I discovered it was this. Yesterday, being short of money, I -sold my amethyst pin to Jane, one of the housemaids, for two dollars, -throwing in a lace collar when she seemed doubtful, as I had a special -purpose for using funds. Had father been at home I could have touched -him, but mother is different. - -I then went out to buy a frame for his picture, which I had repaired by -drawing in the other eye, although lacking the fire and passionate look -of the original. At the shop I was compelled to show it, to buy a frame -to fit. The clerk was almost overpowered. - -"Do you know him?" she asked, in a low and throbbing tone. - -"Not intimately," I replied. - -"Don't you love the Play?" she said. "I'm crazy about it. I've been back -three times. Parts of it I know off by heart. He's very handsome. That -picture don't do him justice." - -I gave her a searching glance. Was it possible that, without any -acquaintance with him whatever, she had fallen in love with him? It was -indeed. She showed it in every line of her silly face. - -I drew myself up haughtily. "I should think it would be very expensive, -going so often," I said, in a cool tone. - -"Not so very. You see, the play is a failure, and they give us girls -tickets to dress the house. Fill it up, you know. Half the girls in the -store are crazy about Mr. Egleston." - -My world shuddered about me. What--fail! That beautiful play, ending "My -darling, my woman"? It could not be. Fate would not be cruel. Was there -no appreciation of the best in art? Was it indeed true, as Miss Everett -has complained, although not in these exact words, that the Theater was -only supported now by chorus girls' legs, dancing about in utter abandon? - -With an expression of despair on my features, I left the store, carrying -the frame under my arm. - -One thing is certain. I must see the play again, and judge it with a -critical eye. IF IT IS WORTH SAVING, IT MUST BE SAVED. - - -JANUARY 16TH. Is it only a day since I saw you, Dear Diary? Can so much -have happened in the single lapse of a few hours? I look in my mirror, -and I look much as before, only with perhaps a touch of pallor. Who -would not be pale? - -I have seen HIM again, and there is no longer any doubt in my heart. -Page Beresford is attractive, and if it were not for circumstances as -they are I would not answer for the consequences. But things ARE as they -are. There is no changing that. And I have read my own heart. - -I am not fickle. On the contrary, I am true as steal. - -I have put his picture under my mattress, and have given Jane my gold -cuff pins to say nothing when she makes my bed. And now, with the house -full of people downstairs acting in a flippant and noisy manner, I shall -record how it all happened. - -My financial condition was not improved this morning, father having not -returned. But I knew that I must see the play, as mentioned above, even -if it became necessary to borrow from Hannah. At last, seeing no other -way, I tried this, but failed. - -"What for?" she said, in a suspicious way. - -"I need it terribly, Hannah," I said. - -"You'd ought to get it from your mother, then, Miss Barbara. The last -time I gave you some you paid it back in postage stamps, and I haven't -written a letter since. They're all stuck together now, and a total -loss." - -"Very well," I said, frigidly. "But the next time you break -anything----" - -"How much do you want?" she asked. - -I took a quick look at her, and I saw at once that she had decided to -lend it to me and then run and tell mother, beginning, "I think you'd -ought to know, Mrs. Archibald----" - -"Nothing doing, Hannah," I said, in a most dignified manner. "But I -think you are an old clam, and I don't mind saying so." - -I was now thrown on my own resources, and very bitter. I seemed to have -no friends, at a time when I needed them most, when I was, as one may -say, "standing with reluctant feet, where the brook and river meet." - -Tonight I am no longer sick of life, as I was then. My throws of anguish -have departed. But I was then utterly reckless, and even considered -running away and going on the stage myself. - -I have long desired a career for myself, anyhow. I have a good mind, and -learn easily, and I am not a parasite. The idea of being such has always -been repugnant to me, while the idea of a few dollars at a time doled -out to one of independent mind is galling. And how is one to remember -what one has done with one's allowance, when it is mostly eaten up -by small loans, carfare, stamps, church collection, rose water and -glycerin, and other mild cosmetics, and the additional food necessary -when one is still growing? - -To resume, Dear Diary; having utterly failed with Hannah, and having -shortly after met Sis on the stairs, I said to her, in a sisterly tone, -intimate rather than fond: - -"I daresay you can lend me five dollars for a day or so." - -"I daresay I can. But I won't," was her cruel reply. - -"Oh, very well," I said briefly. But I could not refrain from making a -grimace at her back, and she saw me in a mirror. - -"When I think," she said heartlessly, "that that wretched school may be -closed for weeks, I could scream." - -"Well, scream!" I replied. "You'll scream harder if I've brought the -measles home on me. And if you're laid up, you can say good-bye to the -dishonorable. You've got him tied, maybe," I remarked, "but not thrown -as yet." - -(A remark I had learned from one of the girls, Trudie Mills, who comes -from Montana.) - -I was therefore compelled to dispose of my silver napkin ring from school. -Jane was bought up, she said, and I sold it to the cook for fifty cents -and half a mince pie although baked with our own materials. - -All my fate, therefore, hung on a paltry fifty cents. - -I was torn with anxiety. Was it enough? Could I, for fifty cents, steal -away from the sordid cares of life, and lose myself in obliviousness, -gazing only it his dear face, listening to his dear and softly modulated -voice, and wondering if, as his eyes swept the audience, they might -perchance light on me and brighten with a momentary gleam in their -unfathomable depths? Only this and nothing more, was my expectation. - -How different was the reality! - -Having ascertained that there was a matinee, I departed at an early hour -after luncheon, wearing my blue velvet with my fox furs. White gloves -and white topped shoes completed my outfit, and, my own chapeau showing -the effect of a rainstorm on the way home from church while away at -school, I took a chance on one of Sis's, a perfectly maddening one of -rose-colored velvet. As the pink made me look pale, I added a touch of -rouge. - -I looked fully out, and indeed almost second season. I have a way of -assuming a serious and mature manner, so that I am frequently taken -for older than I really am. Then, taking a few roses left from the -decorations, and thrusting them carelessly into the belt of my coat, -I went out the back door, as Sis was getting ready for some girls to play -bridge, in the front of the house. - -Had I felt any grief at deceiving my family, the bridge party would -have knocked them. For, as usual, I had not been asked, although playing -a good game myself, and having on more than one occasion won most of the -money in the Upper House at school. - -I was early at the theater. No one was there, and women were going -around taking covers off the seats. My fifty cents gave me a good seat, -from which I opined, alas, that the shop girl had been right and business -was rotten. But at last, after hours of waiting, the faint tuning of -musical instruments was heard. - -From that time I lived in a daze. I have never before felt so strange. -I have known and respected the other sex, and indeed once or twice been -kissed by it. But I had remained cold. My pulses had never fluttered. -I was always concerned only with the fear that others had overseen -and would perhaps tell. But now--I did not care who would see, if only -Adrian would put his arms about me. Divine shamelessness! Brave Rapture! -For if one who he could not possibly love, being so close to her in her -make-up, if one who was indeed employed to be made love to, could submit -in public to his embraces, why should not I, who would have died for -him? - -These were my thoughts as the play went on. The hours flew on joyous -feet. When Adrian came to the footlights and looking apparently square -at me, declaimed: "The world owes me a living. I will have it," I almost -swooned. His clothes were worn. He looked hungry and gaunt. But how -true that= - - ``"Rags are royal raiment, when worn for virtue's sake."= - -(I shall stop here and go down to the pantry. I could eat no dinner, -being filled with emotion. But I must keep strong if I am to help Adrian -in his trouble. The mince pie was excellent, but after all pastry does -not take the place of solid food.) - - -LATER: I shall now go on with my recital. As the theater was almost -empty, at the end of Act One I put on the pink hat and left it on as -though absent-minded. There was no one behind me. And, although during -act one I had thought that he perhaps felt my presence, he had not once -looked directly at me. - -But the hat captured his errant gaze, as one may say. And, after capture, -it remained on my face, so much so that I flushed and a woman sitting -near with a very plain girl in a skunk collar, observed: - -"Really, it is outrageous." - -Now came a moment which I thrill even to recollect. For Adrian plucked -a pink rose from a vase--he was in the millionaire's house, and was -starving in the midst of luxury--and held it to his lips. - -The rose, not the house, of course. Looking over it, he smiled down at -me. - - -LATER: It is midnight. I cannot sleep. Perchance he too, is lying awake. -I am sitting at the window in my robe de nuit. Below, mother and Sis -have just come in, and Smith has slammed the door of the car and gone -back to the garage. How puny is the life my family leads! Nothing but -eating and playing, with no higher thoughts. - -A man has just gone by. For a moment I thought I recognized the -footstep. But no, it was but the night watchman. - - -JANUARY 17TH. Father still away. No money, as mother absolutely refuses -on account of Maddie Mackenzie's gown, which she had to send away to be -repaired. - - -JANUARY 18TH. Father still away. The Hon. sent Sis a huge bunch of -orchids today. She refused me even one. She is always tight with flowers -and candy. - - -JANUARY 19TH. The paper says that Adrian's play is going to close -the end of next week. No business. How can I endure to know that he -is suffering, and that I cannot help, even to the extent of buying one -ticket? Matinee today, and no money. Father still away. - -I have tried to do a kind deed today, feeling that perhaps it would -soften mother's heart and she would advance my allowance. I offered to -manicure her nails for her, but she refused, saying that as Hannah had -done it for many years, she guessed she could manage now. - - -JANUARY 20TH. Today I did a desperate thing, dear Diary. - - -"The desperate is the wisest course." Butler. - - -It is Sunday. I went to church, and thought things over. What a -wonderful thing it would be if I could save the play! Why should I feel -that my sex is a handicap? - -The rector preached on "The Opportunities of Women." The Sermon gave -me courage to go on. When he said, "Women today step in where men are -afraid to tread, and bring success out of failure," I felt that it was -meant for me. - -Had no money for the plate, and mother attempted to smuggle a half dollar -to me. I refused, however, as if I cannot give my own money to the -heathen, I will give none. Mother turned pale, and the man with the -plate gave me a black look. What can he know of my reasons? - -Beresford lunched with us, and as I discouraged him entirely, he was -very attentive to Sis. Mother is planing a big wedding, and I found Sis -in the store room yesterday looking up mother's wedding veil. - -No old stuff for me. - -I guess Beresford is trying to forget that he kissed my hand the other -night, for he called me "Little Miss Barbara" today, meaning little in -the sense of young. I gave him a stern glance. - -"I am not any littler than the other night," I observed. - -"That was merely an affectionate diminutive," he said, looking -uncomfortable. - -"If you don't mind," I said coldly, "you might do as you have -heretofore--reserve your affectionate advances until we are alone." - -"Barbara!" mother said. And began quickly to talk about a Lady Something -or other we'd met on a train in Switzerland. Because--they can talk -until they are black in the face, dear Diary, but it is true we do not -know any of the British Nobility, except the aforementioned and the man -who comes once a year with flavoring extracts, who says he is the third -son of a baronet. - -Every one being out this afternoon, I suddenly had an inspiration, and -sent for Carter Brooks. I then put my hair up and put on my blue silk, -because while I do not believe in woman using her feminine charm when -talking business, I do believe that she should look her best under any -and all circumstances. - -He was rather surprised not to find Sis in, as I had used her name in -telephoning. - -"I did it," I explained, "because I knew that you felt no interest in -me, and I had to see you." - -He looked at me, and said: - -"I'm rather flabbergasted, Bab. I--what ought I to say, anyhow?" - -He came very close, dear Diary, and suddenly I saw in his eyes the -horrible truth. He thought me in love with him, and sending for him while -the family was out. - -Words cannot paint my agony of soul. I stepped back, but he seized my -hand, in a caressing gesture. - -"Bab!" he said. "Dear little Bab!" - -Had my affections not been otherwise engaged, I should have thrilled at -his accents. But, although handsome and of good family, though poor, -I could not see it that way. - -So I drew my hand away, and retreated behind a sofa. - -"We must have an understanding, Carter" I Said. "I have sent for you, -but not for the reason you seem to think. I am in desperate trouble." - -He looked dumfounded. - -"Trouble!" he said. "You! Why, little Bab" - -"If you don't mind," I put in, rather pettishly, because of not being -little, "I wish you would treat me like almost a debutante, if not -entirely. I am not a child in arms." - -"You are sweet enough to be, if the arms might be mine." - -I have puzzled over this, since, dear Diary. Because there must be -some reason why men fall in love with me. I am not ugly, but I am not -beautiful, my nose being too short. And as for clothes, I get none -except Leila's old things. But Jane Raleigh says there are women like -that. She has a cousin who has had four husbands and is beginning on -a fifth, although not pretty and very slovenly, but with a mass of red -hair. - -Are all men to be my lovers? - -"Carter," I said earnestly, "I must tell you now that I do not care for -you--in that way." - -"What made you send for me, then?" - -"Good gracious!" I exclaimed, losing my temper somewhat. "I can send for -the ice man without his thinking I'm crazy about him, can't I?" - -"Thanks." - -"The truth is," I said, sitting down and motioning him to a seat in my -maturest manner, "I--I want some money. There are many things, but the -money comes first." - -He just sat and looked at me with his mouth open. - -"Well," he said at last, "of course--I suppose you know you've come to a -Bank that's gone into the hands of a receiver. But aside from that, -Bab, it's a pretty mean trick to send for me and let me think--well, no -matter about that. How much do you want?" - -"I can pay it back as soon as father comes home," I said, to relieve his -mind. It is against my principals to borrow money, especially from one who -has little or none. But since I was doing it, I felt I might as well ask -for a lot. - -"Could you let me have ten dollars?" I said, in a faint tone. - -He drew a long breath. - -"Well, I guess yes," he observed. "I thought you were going to touch me -for a hundred, anyhow. I--I suppose you wouldn't give me a kiss and call -it square." - -I considered. Because after all, a kiss is not much, and ten dollars is -a good deal. But at last my better nature won out. - -"Certainly not," I said coldly. "And if there is a string to it I do not -want it." - -So he apologized, and came and sat beside me, without being a nuisance, -and asked me what my other troubles were. - -"Carter" I said, in a grave voice, "I know that you believe me young -and incapable of affection. But you are wrong. I am of a most loving -disposition." - -"Now see here, Bab," he said. "Be fair. If I am not to hold your hand, -or--or be what you call a nuisance, don't talk like this. I am but -human," he said, "and there is something about you lately that--well, go -on with your story. Only, as I say, don't try me to far." - -"It's like this," I explained. "Girls think they are cold and distant, -and indeed, frequently are." - -"Frequently!" - -"Until they meet the right one. Then they learn that their hearts are, -as you say, but human." - -"Bab," he said, suddenly turning and facing me, "an awful thought has -come to me. You are in love--and not with me!" - -"I am in love, and not with you," I said in tragic tones. - -I had not thought he would feel it deeply--because of having been -interested in Leila since they went out in their perambulators together. -But I could see it was a shock to him. He got up and stood looking in -the fire, and his shoulders shook with grief. - -"So I have lost you," he said in a smothered voice. And then--"Who is -the sneaking scoundrel?" - -I forgave him this, because of his being upset, and in a rapt attitude I -told him the whole story. He listened, as one in a daze. - -"But I gather," he said, when at last the recital was over, "that you -have never met the--met him." - -"Not in the ordinary use of the word," I remarked. "But then it is -not an ordinary situation. We have met and we have not. Our eyes have -spoken, if not our vocal chords." Seeing his eyes on me I added, "if -you do not believe that soul can cry unto soul, Carter, I shall go no -further." - -"Oh!" he exclaimed. "There is more, is there? I trust it is not -painful, because I have stood as much as I can now without breaking -down." - -"Nothing of which I am ashamed," I said, rising to my full height. "I -have come to you for help, Carter. That play must not fail!" - -We faced each other over those vital words--faced, and found no -solution. - -"Is it a good play?" he asked, at last. - -"It is a beautiful play. Oh, Carter, when at the end he takes his -sweetheart in his arms--the leading lady, and not at all attractive. Jane -Raleigh says that the star generally hates his leading lady--there is not -a dry eye in the house." - -"Must be a jolly little thing. Well, of course I'm no theatrical -manager, but if it's any good there's only one way to save it. -Advertise. I didn't know the piece was in town, which shows that the -publicity has been rotten." - -He began to walk the floor. I don't think I have mentioned it, but that -is Carter's business. Not walking the floor. Advertising. Father says he -is quite good, although only beginning. - -"Tell me about it," he said. - -So I told him that Adrian was a mill worker, and the villain makes him -lose his position, by means of forgery. And Adrian goes to jail, and -comes out, and no one will give him work. So he prepares to blow up -a millionaire's house, and his sweetheart is in it. He has been to the -millionaire for work and been refused and thrown out, saying, just before -the butler and three footmen push him through a window, in dramatic -tones, "The world owes me a living and I will have it." - -"Socialism!" said Carter. "Hard stuff to handle for the two dollar -seats. The world owes him a living. Humph! Still, that's a good line to -work on. Look here, Bab, give me a little time on this, eh what? I may -be able to think of a trick or two. But mind, not a word to any one." - -He started out, but he came back. - -"Look here," he said. "Where do we come in on this anyhow? Suppose I do -think of something--what then? How are we to know that your beloved and -his manager will thank us for butting in, or do what we suggest?" - -Again I drew myself to my full height. - -"I am a person of iron will when my mind is made up," I said. "You think -of something, Carter, and I'll see that it is done." - -He gazed at me in a rapt manner. - -"Dammed if I don't believe you," he said. - -It is now late at night. Beresford has gone. The house is still. I take -the dear picture out from under my mattress and look at it. - -Oh Adrien, my Thespian, my Love. - - -JANUARY 21ST. I have a bad cold, Dear Diary, and feel rotten. But only -my physical condition is such. I am happy beyond words. This morning, -while mother and Sis were out I called up the theater and inquired the -price of a box. The man asked me to hold the line, and then came back -and said it would be ten dollars. I told him to reserve it for Miss -Putnam--my middle name. - -I am both terrified and happy, dear Diary, as I lie here in bed with a -hot water bottle at my feet. I have helped the play by buying a box, -and tonight I shall sit in it alone, and he will perceive me there, and -consider that I must be at least twenty, or I would not be there at -the theater alone. Hannah has just come in and offered to lend me three -dollars. I refused haughtily, but at last rang for her and took two. I -might as well have a taxi tonight. - - -1 A. M. The family was there! I might have known it. Never do I have -any luck. I am a broken thing, crushed to earth. But "Truth crushed to -earth will rise again."--Whittier? - -I had my dinner in bed, on account of my cold, and was let severely alone -by the family. At seven I rose and with palpitating fingers dressed -myself in my best evening frock, which is a pale yellow. I put my hair -up, and was just finished, when mother knocked. It was terrible. - -I had to duck back into bed and crush everything. But she only looked in -and said to try and behave for the next three hours, and went away. - -At a quarter to eight I left the house in a clandestine manner by means -of the cellar and the area steps, and on the pavement drew a long breath. -I was free, and I had twelve dollars. - -Act One went well, and no disturbance. Although Adrian started when he -saw me. The yellow looked very well. - -I had expected to sit back, sheltered by the curtains, and only visible -from the stage. I have often read of this method. But there were no -curtains. I therefore sat, turning a stoney profile to the audience, and -ignoring it, as though it were not present, trusting to luck that no -one I knew was there. - -He saw me. More than that, he hardly took his eyes from the box wherein -I sat. I am sure to that he had mentioned me to the company, for one and -all they stared at me until I think they will know me the next time they -see me. - -I still think I would not have been recognized by the family had I not, -in a very quiet scene, commenced to sneeze. I did this several times, and -a lot of people looked annoyed, as though I sneezed because I liked -to sneeze. And I looked back at them defiantly, and in so doing, -encountered the gaze of my maternal parent. - -Oh, Dear Diary, that I could have died at that moment, and thus, when -stretched out a pathetic figure, with tuber roses and other flowers, have -compelled their pity. But alas, no. I sneezed again! - -Mother was wedged in, and I saw that my only hope was flight. I had not -had more than between three and four dollars worth of the evening, but -I glanced again and Sis was boring holes into me with her eyes. Only -Beresford knew nothing, and was trying to hold Sis's hand under her -opera cloak. Any fool could tell that. - -But, as I was about to rise and stand poised, as one may say, for -departure, I caught Adrian's eyes, with a gleam in their deep depths. He -was, at the moment, toying with the bowl of roses. He took one out, -and while the leading lady was talking, he edged his way toward my box. -There, standing very close, apparently by accident, he dropped the rose -into my lap. - -Oh Diary! Diary! - -I picked it up, and holding it close to me, I flew. - -I am now in bed and rather chilly. Mother banged at the door some time -ago, and at last went away, muttering. - -I am afraid she is going to be pettish. - - -JANUARY 22ND. Father came home this morning, and things are looking up. -Mother of course tackled him first thing, and when he came upstairs I -expected an awful time. But my father is a real person, so he only sat -down on the bed, and said: - -"Well, chicken, so you're at it again!" - -I had to smile, although my chin shook. - -"You'd better turn me out and forget me," I said. "I was born for -trouble. My advice to the family is to get out from under. That's all." - -"Oh, I don't know," he said. "It's pretty convenient to have a family -to drop on when the slump comes." He thumped himself on the chest. -"A hundred and eighty pounds," he observed, "just intended for little -daughters to fall back on when other things fail." - -"Father," I inquired, putting my hand in his, because I had been bearing -my burdens alone, and my strength was failing: "do you believe in Love?" - -"DO I!" - -"But I mean, not the ordinary attachment between two married people. I -mean Love--the real thing." - -"I see! Why, of course I do." - -"Did you ever read Pope, father?" - -"Pope? Why I--probably, chicken. Why?" - -"Then you know what he says: 'Curse on all laws but those which Love has -made.'" - -"Look here," he said, suddenly laying a hand on my brow. "I believe you -are feverish." - -"Not feverish, but in trouble," I explained. And so I told him the -story, not saying much of my deep passion for Adrian, but merely that -I had formed an attachment for him which would persist during life. -Although I had never yet exchanged a word with him. - -Father listened and said it was indeed a sad story, and that he knew my -deep nature, and that I would be true to the end. But he refused to -give me any money, except enough to pay back Hannah and Carter Brooks, -saying: - -"Your mother does not wish you to go to the theater again, and who are -we to go against her wishes? And anyhow, maybe if you met this fellow -and talked to him, you would find him a disappointment. Many a -pretty girl I have seen in my time, who didn't pan out according to -specifications when I finally met her." - -At this revelation of my beloved father's true self, I was almost -stunned. It is evident that I do not inherit my being true as steel from -him. Nor from my mother, who is like steel in hardness but not in being -true to anything but social position. - -As I record this awful day, dear Dairy, there comes again into my mind -the thought that I DO NOT BELONG HERE. I am not like them. I do not even -resemble them in features. And, if I belonged to them, would they -not treat me with more consideration and less discipline? Who, in the -family, has my nose? - -It is all well enough for Hannah to observe that I was a pretty baby -with fat cheeks. May not Hannah herself, for some hidden reason, have -brought me here, taking away the real I to perhaps languish unseen and -"waste my sweetness on the desert air"? But that way lies madness. -Life must be made the best of as it is, and not as it might be or indeed -ought to be. - -Father promised before he left that I was not to be scolded, as I felt -far from well, and was drinking water about every minute. - -"I just want to lie here and think about things," I said, when he was -going. "I seem to have so many thoughts. And father----" - -"Yes, chicken." - -"If I need any help to carry out a plan I have, will you give it to me, -or will I have to go to total strangers?" - -"Good gracious, Bab!" he exclaimed. "Come to me, of course." - -"And you'll do what you're told?" - -He looked out into the hall to see if mother was near. Then, dear Dairy, -he turned to me and said: - -"I always have, Bab. I guess I'll run true to form." - - -JANUARY 23RD. Much better today. Out and around. Family (mother and -Sis) very dignified and nothing much to say. Evidently have promised -father to restrain themselves. Father rushed and not coming home to -dinner. - -Beresford on edge of proposing. Sis very jumpy. - - -LATER: Jane Raleigh is home for her cousin's wedding! Is coming over. We -shall take a walk, as I have much to tell her. - - -6 P. M. What an afternoon! How shall I write it? This is a Milestone in -my Life. - -I have met him at last. Nay, more. I have been in his dressing room, -conversing as though accustomed to such things all my life. I have -concealed under the mattress a real photograph of him, beneath which he -has written, "Yours always, Adrian Egleston." - -I am writing in bed, as the room is chilly--or I am--and by putting out -my hand I can touch his pictured likeness. - -Jane came around for me this afternoon, and mother consented to a walk. -I did not have a chance to take Sis's pink hat, as she keeps her door -locked now when not in her room. Which is ridiculous, because I am not -her type, and her things do not suit me very well anyhow. And I have -never borrowed anything but gloves and handkerchiefs, except Maddie's -dress and the hat. - -She had, however, not locked her bathroom, and finding a bunch of -violets in the washbowl I put them on. It does not hurt violets to wear -them, and anyhow I knew Carter Brooks had sent them and she ought to -wear only Beresford's flowers if she means to marry him. - -Jane at once remarked that I looked changed. - -"Naturally," I said, in a blase' manner. - -"If I didn't know you, Bab," she observed, "I would say that you are -rouged." - -I became very stiff and distant at that. For Jane, although my best -friend, had no right to be suspicious of me. - -"How do I look changed?" I demanded. - -"I don't know. You--Bab, I believe you are up to some mischief!" - -"Mischief?" - -"You don't need to pretend to me," she went on, looking into my very -soul. "I have eyes. You're not decked out this way for ME." - -I had meant to tell her nothing, but spying just then a man ahead who -walked like Adrian, I was startled. I clutched her arm and closed my -eyes. - -"Bab!" she said. - -The man turned, and I saw it was not he. I breathed again. But Jane was -watching me, and I spoke out of an overflowing heart. - -"For a moment I thought--Jane, I have met THE ONE at last." - -"Barbara!" she said, and stopped dead. "Is it any one I know?" - -"He is an actor." - -"Ye gods!" said Jane, in a tense voice. "What a tragedy!" - -"Tragedy indeed," I was compelled to admit. "Jane, my heart is breaking. -I am not allowed to see him. It is all off, forever." - -"Darling!" said Jane. "You are trembling all over. Hold on to me. Do -they disapprove?" - -"I am never to see him again. Never." - -The bitterness of it all overcame me. My eyes suffused with tears. - -But I told her, in broken accents, of my determination to stick to him, -no matter what. "I might never be Mrs. Adrian Egleston, but----" - -"Adrian Egleston!" she cried, in amazement. "Why Barbara, you lucky -thing!" - -So, finding her fuller of sympathy than usual, I violated my vow of -silence and told her all. - -And, to prove the truth of what I said, I showed her the sachet over my -heart containing his rose. - -"It's perfectly wonderful," Jane said, in an awed tone. "You beat -anything I've ever known for adventures! You are the type men like, -for one thing. But there is one thing I could not stand, in your -place--having to know that he is making love to the heroine every -evening and twice on Wednesdays and--Bab, this is Wednesday!" - -I glanced at my wrist watch. It was but two o'clock. Instantly, dear -Dairy, I became conscious of a dual going on within me, between love and -duty. Should I do as instructed and see him no more, thus crushing -my inclination under the iron heel of resolution? Or should I cast my -parents to the winds, and go? - -Which? - -At last I decided to leave it to Jane. I observed: "I'm forbidden to try -to see him. But I daresay, if you bought some theater tickets and did not -say what the play was, and we went and it happened to be his, it would -not be my fault, would it?" - -I cannot recall her reply, or much more, except that I waited in a -pharmacy, and Jane went out, and came back and took me by the arm. - -"We're going to the matinee, Bab," she said. "I'll not tell you which -one, because it's to be a surprise." She squeezed my arm. "First row," -she whispered. - -I shall draw a veil over my feelings. Jane bought some chocolates to -take along, but I could eat none. I was thirsty, but not hungry. And my -cold was pretty bad, to. - -So we went in, and the curtain went up. When Adrian saw me, in the front -row, he smiled although in the midst of a serious speech about the world -owing him a living. And Jane was terribly excited. - -"Isn't he the handsomest thing!" she said. "And oh, Bab, I can see that -he adores you. He is acting for you. All the rest of the people mean -nothing to him. He sees but you." - -Well, I had not told her that we had not yet met, and she said I could -do nothing less than send him a note. - -"You ought to tell him that you are true, in spite of everything," she -said. - -If I had not deceived Jane things would be better. But she was set on my -sending the note. So at last I wrote one on my visiting card, holding -it so she could not read it. Jane is my best friend and I am devoted to -her, but she has no scruples about reading what is not meant for her. I -said: - -"Dear Mr. Egleston: I think the play is perfectly wonderful. And you -are perfectly splendid in it. It is perfectly terrible that it is going -to stop. - -"(Signed) The girl of the rose." - - -I know that this seems bold. But I did not feel bold, dear Dairy. It was -such a letter as any one might read, and contained nothing compromising. -Still, I daresay I should not have written it. But "out of the fulness of -the heart the mouth speaketh." - -I was shaking so much that I could not give it to the usher. But Jane -did. However, I had sealed it up in an envelope. - -Now comes the real surprise, dear Dairy. For the usher came down and -said Mr. Egleston hoped I would go back and see him after the act was -over. I think a pallor must have come over me, and Jane said: - -"Bab! Do you dare?" - -I said yes, I dared, but that I would like a glass of water. I seemed to -be thirsty all the time. So she got it, and I recovered my savoir fair, -and stopped shaking. - -I suppose Jane expected to go along, but I refrained from asking her. -She then said: - -"Try to remember everything he says, Bab. I am just crazy about it." - -Ah, dear Dairy, how can I write how I felt when being led to him. The -entire scene is engraved on my soul. I, with my very heart in my eyes, -in spite of my efforts to seem cool and collected. He, in front of his -mirror, drawing in the lines of starvation around his mouth for the next -scene, while on his poor feet a valet put the raged shoes of Act II! - -He rose when I entered, and took me by the hand. - -"Well!" he said. "At last!" - -He did not seem to mind the valet, whom he treated like a chair or -table. And he held my hand and looked deep into my eyes. - -Ah, dear Dairy, Men may come and Men may go in my life, but never again -will I know such ecstasy as at that moment. - -"Sit down," he said. "Little Lady of the rose--but it's violets today, -isn't it? And so you like the play?" - -I was by that time somewhat calmer, but glad to sit down, owing to my -knees feeling queer. - -"I think it is magnificent," I said. - -"I wish there were more like you," he observed. "Just a moment, I have -to make a change here. No need to go out. There's a screen for that very -purpose." - -He went behind the screen, and the man handed him a raged shirt over the -top of it, while I sat in a chair and dreamed. What I reflected, would -the School say if it but knew! I felt no remorse. I was there, and -beyond the screen, changing into the garments of penury, was the only -member of the other sex I had ever felt I could truly care for. - -Dear Dairy, I am tired and my head aches. I cannot write it all. He was -perfectly respectful, and only his eyes showed his true feelings. -The woman who is the adventuress in the play came to the door, but he -motioned her away with a wave of the hand. And at last it was over, and -he was asking me to come again soon, and if I would care to have one of -his pictures. - -I am very sleepy tonight, but I cannot close this record of a -w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l d-a-y---- - - -JANUARY 24TH. Cold worse. - -Not hearing from Carter Brooks I telephoned him just now. He is sore -about Beresford and said he would not come to the house. So I have asked -him to meet me in the park, and said that there were only two more days, -this being Thursday. - - -LATER: I have seen Carter, and he has a fine plan. If only father will -do it. - -He says the theme is that the world owes Adrian a living, and that the -way to do is to put that strongly before the people. - -"Suppose," he said, "that this fellow would go to some big factory, and -demand work. Not ask for it. Demand it. He could pretend to be starving -and say: 'The world owes me a living, and I intend to have it.'" - -"But suppose they were sorry for him and gave it to him?" I observed. - -"Tut, child," he said. "That would have to be all fixed up first. It -ought to be arranged that he not only be refused, but what's more, that -he'll be thrown out. He'll have to cut up a lot, d'you see, so they'll -throw him out. And we'll have Reporters there, so the story can get -around. You get it, don't you? Your friend, in order to prove that the -idea of the play is right, goes out for a job, and proves that he cannot -demand labor and get it." He stopped and spoke with excitement: "Is he a -real sport? Would he stand being arrested? Because that would cinch it." - -But here I drew a line. I would not subject him to such humiliation. I -would not have him arrested. And at last Carter gave in. - -"But you get the idea," he said. "There'll be the deuce of a row, and -it's good for a half column on the first page of the evening papers. -Result, a jam that night at the performance, and a new lease of life -for the Play. Egleston comes on, bruised and battered, and perhaps -with a limp. The Labor Unions take up the matter--it's a knock out. I'd -charge a thousand dollars for that idea if I were selling it." - -"Bruised!" I exclaimed. "Really bruised or painted on?" - -He glared at me impatiently. - -"Now see here, Bab," he said. "I'm doing this for you. You've got -to play up. And if your young man won't stand a bang in the eye, for -instance, to earn his bread and butter, he's not worth saving." - -"Who are you going to get to--to throw him out?" I asked, in a faltering -tone. - -He stopped and stared at me. - -"I like that!" he said. "It's not my play that's failing, is it? Go and -tell him the scheme, and then let his manager work it out. And tell him -who I am, and that I have a lot of ideas, but this is the only one I'm -giving away." - -We had arrived at the house by that time and I invited him to come in. -But he only glanced bitterly at the windows and observed that they had -taken in the mat with 'Welcome' on it, as far as he was concerned. And -went away. - -Although we have never had a mat with 'Welcome' on it. - -Dear Diary, I wonder if father would do it? He is gentle and -kindhearted, and it would be painful to him. But to who else can I -turn in my extremity? - -I have but one hope. My father is like me. He can be coaxed and if -kindly treated will do anything. But if approached in the wrong way, or -asked to do something against his principals, he becomes a roaring lion. - -He would never be bully-ed into giving a man work, even so touching a -personality as Adrian's. - - -LATER: I meant to ask father tonight, but he has just heard of Beresford -and is in a terrible temper. He says Sis can't marry him, because he -is sure there are plenty of things he could be doing in England, if not -actually fighting. - -"He could probably run a bus, and release some one who can fight," he -shouted. "Or he could at least do an honest day's work with his hands. -Don't let me see him, that's all." - -"Do I understand that you forbid him the house?" Leila asked, in a cold -fury. - -"Just keep him out of my sight," father snapped. "I suppose I can't keep -him from swilling tea while I am away doing my part to help the Allies." - -"Oh, rot!" said Sis, in a scornful manner. "While you help your bank -account, you mean. I don't object to that, father, but for heaven's sake -don't put it on altruistic grounds." - -She went upstairs then and banged her door, and mother merely set her -lips and said nothing. But when Beresford called, later, Tanney had to -tell him the family was out. - -Were it not for our affections, and the necessity for getting married, so -there would be an increase in the population, how happy we could all be! - - -LATER: I have seen father. - -It was a painful evening, with Sis shut away in her room, and father -cutting the ends off cigars in a viscious manner. Mother was NON EST, and -had I not had my memories, it would have been a sickning time. - -I sat very still and waited until father softened, which he usually does, -like ice cream, all at once and all over. I sat perfectly still in a -large chair, and except for an occasional sneeze, was quiet. - -Only once did my parent address me in an hour, when he said: - -"What the devil's making you sneeze so?" - -"My nose, I think, sir," I said meekly. - -"Humph!" he said. "It's rather a small nose to be making such a racket." - -I was cut to the heart, Dear Diary. One of my dearest dreams has always -been a delicate nose, slightly arched and long enough to be truly -aristocratic. Not really acqualine but on the verge. I HATE my little -nose--hate it--hate it--HATE IT. - -"Father" I said, rising and on the point of tears. "How can you! To -taunt me with what is not my own fault, but partly hereditary and partly -carelessness. For if you had pinched it in infancy it would have been a -good nose, and not a pug. And----" - -"Good gracious!" he exclaimed. "Why, Bab, I never meant to insult your -nose. As a matter of fact, it's a good nose. It's exactly the sort of -nose you ought to have. Why, what in the world would YOU do with a Roman -nose?" - -I have not been feeling very well, dear Diary, and so I suddenly began to -weep. - -"Why, chicken!" said my father. And made me sit down on his knee. "Don't -tell me that my bit of sunshine is behind a cloud!" - -"Behind a nose," I said, feebly. - -So he said he liked my nose, even although somewhat swollen, and he kissed -it, and told me I was a little fool, and at last I saw he was about -ready to be tackled. So I observed: - -"Father, will you do me a favor?" - -"Sure," he said. "How much do you need? Business is pretty good now, -and I've about landed the new order for shells for the English War -Department. I--suppose we make it fifty! Although, we'd better keep it a -secret between the two of us." - -I drew myself up, although tempted. But what was fifty dollars to doing -something for Adrian? A mere bagatelle. - -"Father," I said, "do you know Miss Everett, my English teacher?" - -He remembered the name. - -"Would you be willing to do her a great favor?" I demanded intensely. - -"What sort of a favor?" - -"Her cousin has written a play. She is very fond of her cousin, and -anxious to have him succeed. And it is a lovely play." - -He held me off and stared at me. - -"So THAT is what you were doing in that box alone!" he exclaimed. "You -incomprehensible child! Why didn't you tell your mother?" - -"Mother does not always understand," I said, in a low voice. "I thought, -by buying a box, I would do my part to help Miss Everett's cousin's play -succeed. And as a result I was dragged home, and shamefully treated in the -most mortifying manner. But I am accustomed to brutality." - -"Oh, come now," he said. "I wouldn't go as far as that, chicken. Well, I -won't finance the play, but short of that I'll do what I can." - -However he was not so agreeable when I told him Carter Brooks' plan. He -delivered a firm no. - -"Although," he said, "somebody ought to do it, and show the fallacy of -the play. In the first place, the world doesn't owe the fellow a -living, unless he will hustle around and make it. In the second place -an employer has a right to turn away a man he doesn't want. No one can -force a business to employ Labor." - -"Well," I said, "as long as Labor talks and makes a lot of noise, and -Capitol is too dignified to say anything, most people are going to side -with Labor." - -He gazed at me. - -"Right!" he said. "You've put your finger on it, in true feminine -fashion." - -"Then why won't you throw out this man when he comes to you for work? He -intends to force you to employ him." - -"Oh, he does, does he?" said father, in a fierce voice. "Well, let him -come. I can stand up for my principals, too. I'll throw him out, all -right." - -Dear Diary, the battle is over and I have won. I am very happy. How true -it is that strategy will do more than violence! - -We have arranged it all. Adrian is to go to the mill, dressed like a -decayed gentleman, and father will refuse to give him work. I have said -nothing about violence, leaving that to arrange itself. - -I must see Adrian and his manager. Carter has promised to tell some -reporters that there may be a story at the mill on Saturday morning. I -am to excited to sleep. - -Feel horrid. Forbidden to go out this morning. - - -JANUARY 25TH. Beresford was here to lunch and he and mother and Sis had -a long talk. He says he has kept it a secret because he did not want his -business known. But he is here to place a shell order for the English War -Department. - -"Well," Leila said, "I can hardly wait to tell father and see him curl -up." - -"No, no," said Beresford, hastily. "Really you must allow me. I must -inform him myself. I am sure you can see why. This is a thing for men to -settle. Besides, it is a delicate matter. Mr. Archibald is trying to get -the order, and our New York office, if I am willing, is ready to place -it with him." - -"Well!" said Leila, in a thunderstruck tone. "If you British don't beat -anything for keeping your own Counsel!" - -I could see that he had her hand under the table. It was sickening. - -Jane came to see me after lunch. The wedding was that night, and I had -to sit through silver vegetable dishes, and after-dinner coffee sets and -plates and a grand piano and a set of gold vases and a cabushion sapphire -and the bridesmaid's clothes and the wedding supper and heaven knows -what. But at last she said: - -"You dear thing--how weary and wan you look!" - -I closed my eyes. - -"But you don't intend to give him up, do you?" - -"Look at me!" I said, in imperious tones. "Do I look like one who would -give him up, because of family objections?" - -"How brave you are!" she observed. "Bab, I am green with envy. When I -think of the way he looked at you, and the tones of his voice when he -made love to that--that creature, I am positively SHAKEN." - -We sat in somber silence. Then she said: - -"I daresay he detests the heroine, doesn't he?" - -"He tolerates her," I said, with a shrug. - -More silence. I rang for Hannah to bring some ice water. We were in my -boudoir. - -"I saw him yesterday," said Jane, when Hannah had gone. - -"Jane!" - -"In the park. He was with the woman that plays the Adventuress. Ugly old -thing." - -I drew a long breath of relief. For I knew that the adventuress was at -least thirty and perhaps more. Besides being both wicked and cruel, and -not at all feminine. - -Hannah brought the ice-water and then came in the most maddening way and -put her hand on my forehead. - -"I've done nothing but bring you ice-water for two days," she said. "Your -head's hot. I think you need a mustard foot bath and to go to bed." - -"Hannah," Jane said, in her loftiest fashion, "Miss Barbara is worried, -not ill. And please close the door when you go out." - -Which was her way of telling Hannah to go. Hannah glared at her. - -"If you take my advice, Miss Jane," she said. "You'll keep away from -Miss Barbara." - -And she went out, slamming the door. - -"Well!" gasped Jane. "Such impertinence. Old servant or not, she ought -to have her mouth slapped." - -Well, I told Jane the plan and she was perfectly crazy about it. I had -a headache, but she helped me into my street things, and got Sis's rose -hat for me while Sis was at the telephone. Then we went out. - -First we telephoned Carter Brooks, and he said tomorrow morning would -do, and he'd give a couple of reporters the word to hang around father's -office at the mill. He said to have Adrian there at ten o'clock. - -"Are you sure your father will do it?" he asked. "We don't want a -fliver, you know." - -"He's making a principal of it," I said. "When he makes a principal of a -thing, he does it." - -"Good for father!" Carter said. "Tell him not to be to gentle. And tell -your actor-friend to make a lot of fuss. The more the better. I'll see -the policeman at the mill, and he'll probably take him up. But we'll get -him out for the matinee. And watch the evening papers." - -It was then that a terrible thought struck me. What if Adrian considered -it beneath his profession to advertize, even if indirectly? What if he -preferred the failure of Miss Everett's cousin's play to a bruise on the -eye? What, in short, if he refused? - -Dear Dairy, I was stupified. I knew not which way to turn. For men are -not like women, who are dependable and anxious to get along, and will -sacrifice anything for success. No, men are likely to turn on the ones -they love best, if the smallest things do not suit them, such as cold -soup, or sleeves too long from the shirt-maker, or plans made which they -have not been consulted about beforehand. - -"Darling!" said Jane, as I turned away, "you look STRICKEN!" - -"My head aches," I said, with a weary gesture toward my forehead. It did -ache, for that matter. It is aching now, dear Dairy. - -However, I had begun my task and must go through with it. Abandoning -Jane at a corner, in spite of her calling me cruel and even sneaking, I -went to Adrian's hotel, which I had learned of during my seance in -his room while he was changing his garments behind a screen, as it was -marked on a dressing case. - -It was then five o'clock. - -How nervous I felt as I sent up my name to his chamber. Oh, Dear Diary, -to think that it was but five hours ago that I sat and waited, while -people who guessed not the inner trepidation of my heart past and -repast, and glanced at me and at Leila's pink hat above. - -At last he came. My heart beat thunderously, as he approached, striding -along in that familiar walk, swinging his strong and tender arms. And I! -I beheld him coming and could think of not a word to say. - -"Well!" he said, pausing in front of me. "I knew I was going to be lucky -today. Friday is my best day." - -"I was born on Friday," I said. I could think of nothing else. - -"Didn't I say it was my lucky day? But you mustn't sit here. What do you -say to a cup of tea in the restaurant?" - -How grown up and like a debutante I felt, Dear Diary, going to have -tea as if I had it every day at school, with a handsome actor across! -Although somewhat uneasy also, owing to the possibility of the family -coming in. But it did not and I had a truly happy hour, not at all -spoiled by looking out the window and seeing Jane going by, with her -eyes popping out, and walking very slowly so I would invite her to come -in. - -WHICH I DID NOT. - -Dear Diary, HE WILL DO IT. At first he did not understand, and looked -astounded. But when I told him of Carter being in the advertizing -business, and father owning a large mill, and that there would be -reporters and so on, he became thoughtful. - -"It's really incredibly clever," he said. "And if it's pulled off right -it ought to be a stampede. But I'd like to see Mr. Brooks. We can't have -it fail, you know." He leaned over the table. "It's straight goods, is -it, Miss er--Barbara? There's nothing phoney about it?" - -"Phoney!" I said, drawing back. "Certainly not." - -He kept on leaning over the table. - -"I wonder," he said, "what makes you so interested in the play?" - -Oh, Diary, Diary! - -And just then I looked up, and the adventuress was staring in the door -at me with the meanest look on her face. - -I draw a veil over the remainder of our happy hour. Suffice it to say -that he considers me exactly the type he finds most attractive, and that -he does not consider my nose too short. We had a long dispute about this. -He thinks I am wrong and says I am not an aquiline type. He says I am -romantic and of a loving disposition. Also somewhat reckless, and he -gave me good advice about doing what my family consider for my good, at -least until I come out. - -But our talk was all too short, for a fat man with three rings on came -in, and sat down with us, and ordered a whiskey and soda. My blood -turned cold, for fear some one I knew would come in and see me sitting -there in a drinking party. - -And my blood was right to turn cold. For, just as he had told the -manager about the arrangement I had made, and the manager said "Bully" -and raised his glass to drink to me I looked across and there was -mother's aunt, old Susan Paget, sitting near, with the most awful face -I ever saw! - -I collapsed in my chair. - -Dear Diary, I only remember saying, "Well, remember, ten o'clock. And -dress up like a gentleman in hard luck," and his saying: "Well, I hope -I'm a gentleman, and the hard luck's no joke," and then I went away. - -And now, Dear Diary, I am in bed, and every time the telephone rings -I have a chill. And in between times I drink ice-water and sneeze. How -terrible a thing is love. - - -LATER: I can hardly write. Switzerland is a settled thing. Father is not -home tonight and I cannot appeal to him. Susan Paget said I was drinking -too, and mother is having the vibrator used on her spine. If I felt -better I would run away. - - -JANUARY 26TH. How can I write what has happened? It is so terrible. - -Beresford went at ten o'clock to ask for Leila, and did not send in his -card for fear father would refuse to see him. And father thought, from -his saying that he had come to ask for something, and so on, that it -was Adrian, and threw him out. He ordered him out first, and Beresford -refused to go, and they had words, and then there was a fight. The -reporters got it, and it is in all the papers. Hannah has just brought -one in. It is headed "Manufacturer assaults Peer." Leila is in bed, and -the doctor is with her. - - -LATER: Adrian has disappeared. The manager has just called up, and with -shaking knees I went to the telephone. Adrian went to the mill a little -after ten, and has not been seen since. - -It is in vain I protest that he has not eloped with me. It is almost -time now for the matinee and no Adrian. What shall I do? - - -SATURDAY, 11 P.M. Dear Diary, I have the measles. I am all broken out, -and look horrible. But what is a sickness of the body compared to the -agony of my mind? Oh, Dear Diary, to think of what has happened since -last I saw your stainless pages! - -What is a sickness to a broken heart? And to a heart broken while trying -to help another who did not deserve to be helped. But if he deceived me, -he has paid for it, and did until he was rescued at ten o'clock tonight. - -I have been given a sleeping medicine, and until it takes affect I shall -write out the tragedy of this day, omitting nothing. The trained nurse -is asleep on a cot, and her cap is hanging on the foot of the bed. - -I have tried it on, Dear Diary, and it is very becoming. If they insist -on Switzerland I think I shall run away and be a trained nurse. It is -easy work, although sleeping on a cot is not always comfortable. But -at least a trained nurse leads her own life and is not bullied by her -family. And more, she does good constantly. - -I feel tonight that I should like to do good, and help the sick, and -perhaps go to the front. I know a lot of college men in the American -Ambulance. - -I shall never go on the stage, Dear Diary. I know now its deceitfulness -and vicissitudes. My heart has bled until it can bleed no more, as a -result of a theatrical Adonis. I am through with the theater forever. - -I shall begin at the beginning. I left off where Adrian had disappeared. - -Although feeling very strange, and looking a queer red color in my -mirror, I rose and dressed myself. I felt that something had slipped, and -I must find Adrian. (It is strange with what coldness I write that once -beloved name.) - -While dressing I perceived that my chest and arms were covered -with small red dots, but I had no time to think of myself. I slipped -downstairs and outside the drawing room I heard mother conversing in a -loud and angry tone with a visitor. I glanced in, and ye gods! - -It was the adventuress. - -Drawing somewhat back, I listened. Oh, Diary, what a revelation! - -"But I MUST see her," she was saying. "Time is flying. In a half hour -the performance begins, and--he cannot be found." - -"I can't understand," mother said, in a stiff manner. "What can my -daughter Barbara know about him?" - -The adventuress sniffed. "Humph!" she said. "She knows, alright. And -I'd like to see her in a hurry, if she is in the house." - -"Certainly she is in the house," said mother. - -"ARE YOU SURE OF THAT? Because I have every reason to believe she has -run away with him. She has been hanging around him all week, and only -yesterday afternoon I found them together. She had some sort of a scheme, -he said afterwards, and he wrinkled a coat under his mattress last -night. He said it was to look as if he had slept in it. I know nothing -further of your daughter's scheme. But I know he went out to meet her. He -has not been seen since. His manager has hunted for to hours." - -"Just a moment," said mother, in a frigid tone. "Am I to understand -that this--this Mr. Egleston is----" - -"He is my Husband." - -Ah, Dear Diary, that I might then and there have passed away. But I did -not. I stood there, with my heart crushed, until I felt strong enough to -escape. Then I fled, like a guilty soul. It was ghastly. - -On the doorstep I met Jane. She gazed at me strangely when she saw my -face, and then clutched me by the arm. - -"Bab!" she cried. "What on the earth is the matter with your -complexion?" - -But I was desperate. - -"Let me go!" I said. "Only lend me two dollars for a taxi and let me go. -Something horrible has happened." - -She gave me ninety cents, which was all she had, and I rushed down the -street, followed by her piercing gaze. - -Although realizing that my life, at least the part of it pertaining to -sentiment, was over, I knew that, single or married, I must find him. -I could not bare to think that I, in my desire to help, had ruined -Miss Everett's cousin's play. Luckily I got a taxi at the corner, and -I ordered it to drive to the mill. I sank back, bathed in hot -perspiration, and on consulting my bracelet watch found I had but twenty -five minutes until the curtain went up. - -I must find him, but where and how! I confess for a moment that I -doubted my own father, who can be very fierce on occasion. What if, -maddened by his mistake about Beresford, he had, on being approached by -Adrian, been driven to violence? What if, in my endeavor to help one who -was unworthy, I had led my poor paternal parent into crime? - -Hell is paved with good intentions. SAMUEL JOHNSTON. - - -On driving madly into the mill yard, I suddenly remembered that it was -Saturday and a half holiday. The mill was going, but the offices were -closed. Father, then, was immured in the safety of his club, and could -not be reached except by pay telephone. And the taxi was now ninety -cents. - -I got out, and paid the man. I felt very dizzy and queer, and was very -thirsty, so I went to the hydrant in the yard and got a drink of water. -I did not as yet suspect measles, but laid it all to my agony of mind. - -Having thus refreshed myself, I looked about, and saw the yard -policeman, a new one who did not know me, as I am away at school most of -the time, and the family is not expected to visit the mill, because of -dirt and possible accidents. - -I approached him, however, and he stood still and stared at me. - -"Officer" I said, in my most dignified tones. "I am looking for a--for a -gentleman who came here this morning to look for work." - -"There was about two hundred lined up here this morning, Miss," he said. -"Which one would it be, now?" - -How my heart sank! - -"About what time would he be coming?" he said. "Things have been kind of -mixed-up around here today, owing to a little trouble this morning. But -perhaps I'll remember him." - -But, although Adrian is of an unusual type, I felt that I could not -describe him, besides having a terrible headache. So I asked if he would -lend me carfare, which he did with a strange look. - -"You're not feeling sick, Miss, are you?" he said. But I could not stay -to converse, as it was then time for the curtain to go up, and still no -Adrian. - -I had but one refuge in mind, Carter Brooks, and to him I fled on the -wings of misery in the street car. I burst into his advertizing office -like a fury. - -"Where is he?" I demanded. "Where have you and your plotting hidden -him?" - -"Who? Beresford?" he asked in a placid manner. "He is at his hotel, I -believe, putting beefsteak on a bad eye. Believe me, Bab----" - -"Beresford!" I cried, in scorn and wretchedness. "What is he to me? Or -his eye either? I refer to Mr. Egleston. It is time for the curtain -to go up now, and unless he has by this time returned, there can be no -performance." - -"Look here," Carter said suddenly, "you look awfully queer, Bab. Your -face----" - -I stamped my foot. - -"What does my face matter?" I demanded. "I no longer care for him, but I -have ruined Miss Everett's cousin's play unless he turns up. Am I to be -sent to Switzerland with that on my soul?" - -"Switzerland!" he said slowly. "Why, Bab, they're not going to do that, -are they? I--I don't want you so far away." - -Dear Dairy, I am unsuspicious by nature, believing all mankind to be my -friends until proven otherwise. But there was a gloating look in Carter -Brooks' eyes as they turned on me. - -"Carter!" I said, "you know where he is and you will not tell me. You -WISH to ruin him." - -I was about to put my hand on his arm, but he drew away. - -"Look here," he said. "I'll tell you something, but please keep back. -Because you look like smallpox to me. I was at the mill this morning. -I do not know anything about your actor-friend. He's probably only -been run over or something. But I saw Beresford going in, and I--well, I -suggested that he'd better walk in on your father or he wouldn't get in. -It worked, Bab. HOW IT DID WORK! He went in and said he had come to ask -your father for something, and your father blew up by saying that he knew -about it, but that the world only owed a living to the man who would -hustle for it, and that he would not be forced to take any one he did -not want. - -"And in two minutes Beresford hit him, and got a response. It was a -million dollars worth." - -So he babbled on. But what were his words to me? - -Dear Diary, I gave no thought to the smallpox he had mentioned, although -fatal to the complexion. Or to the fight at the mill. I heard only -Adrian's possible tragic fate. Suddenly I collapsed, and asked for a -drink of water, feeling horrible, very wobbly and unable to keep my -knees from bending. - -And the next thing I remember is father taking me home, and Adrian's -fate still a deep mystery, and remaining such, while I had a warm sponge -to bring out the rest of the rash, followed by a sleep--it being measles -and not smallpox. - -Oh, Dear Diary, what a story I learned when having wakened and feeling -better, my father came tonight and talked to me from the doorway, not -being allowed in. - -Adrian had gone to the mill, and father, having thrown Beresford out -and asserted his principals, had not thrown him out, BUT HAD GIVEN HIM -A JOB IN THE MILL. And the Policeman had given him no chance to escape, -which he attempted. He was dragged to the shell plant and there locked -in, because of spies. The plant is under military guard. - -And there he had been compelled to drag a wheelbarrow back and forth -containing charcoal for a small furnace, for hours! - -Even when Carter found him he could not be released, as father was in -hiding from reporters, and would not go to the telephone or see callers. - -He labored until 10 p.m., while the theater remained dark, and people -got their money back. - -I have ruined him. I have also ruined Miss Everett's cousin. - -* * * * * - -The nurse is still asleep. I think I will enter a hospital. My career is -ended, my life is blasted. - -I reach under the mattress and draw out the picture of him who today -I have ruined, compelling him to do manual labor for hours, although -unaccustomed to it. He is a great actor, and I believe has a future. But -my love for him is dead. Dear Diary, he deceived me, and that is one -thing I cannot forgive. - -So now I sit here among my pillows, while the nurse sleeps, and I -reflect about many things. But one speech rings in my ears over and -over. - -Carter Brooks, on learning about Switzerland, said it in a strange -manner, looking at me with inscrutable eyes. - -"Switzerland! Why, Bab--I don't want you to go so far away." - -WHAT DID HE MEAN BY IT? - -* * * * * - -Dear Dairy, you will have to be burned, I daresay. Perhaps it is as well. -I have p o r e d out my H-e-a-r-t---- - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Bab: A Sub-Deb, by Mary Roberts Rinehart - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BAB: A SUB-DEB *** - -***** This file should be named 366.txt or 366.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/366/ - -Produced by Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteers - -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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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* - - - - -BAB: A SUB-DEB - -MARY ROBERTS RINEHART - -AUTHOR OF "K," "THE CIRCULAR STAIRCASE," "KINGS, QUEENS AND PAWNS," ETC. - ---- - - - - - CONTENTS - -CHAPTER - I THE SUB-DEB - II THEME: THE CELEBRITY -III HER DIARY - IV BAB'S BURGLAR - V THE G.A.C. - - - - CHAPTER I - -THE SUB-DEB: A THEME WRITTEN AND SUBMITTED IN LITERATURE CLASS BY -BARBARA PUTNAM ARCHIBALD, 1917. - -DEFINITION OF A THEME: - -A theme is a piece of writing, either true or made up by the -author, and consisting of Introduction, Body and Conclusion. It -should contain Unity, Coherence, Emphasis, Perspecuity, Vivacity, -and Presision. It may be ornamented with dialogue, discription and -choice quotations. - -SUBJECT OF THEME: - -An interesting Incident of My Christmas Holadays. - -Introduction: - -"A tyrant's power in rigor is exprest."--DRYDEN. - -I HAVE decided to relate with Presision what occurred during my -recent Christmas holaday. Although I was away from this school only -four days, returning unexpectedly the day after Christmas, a number -of Incidents occurred which I believe I should narate. - -It is only just and fair that the Upper House, at least, should -know of the injustice of my exile, and that it is all the result of -Circumstances over which I had no controll. - -For I make this apeal, and with good reason. Is it any fault of -mine that my sister Leila is 20 months older than I am? Naturaly, no. - -Is it fair also, I ask, that in the best society, a girl is a -Sub-Deb the year before she comes out, and although mature in mind, -and even maturer in many ways than her older sister, the latter is -treated as a young lady, enjoying many privileges, while the former -is treated as a mere child, in spite, as I have observed, of only 20 -months difference? I wish to place myself on record that it is NOT fair. - -I shall go back, for a short time, to the way things were at home -when I was small. I was very strictly raised. With the exception of -Tommy Gray, who lives next door and only is about my age, I was -never permitted to know any of the Other Sex. - -Looking back, I am sure that the present way society is organized -is really to blame for everything. I am being frank, and that is -the way I feel. I was too strictly raised. I always had a Governess -taging along. Until I came here to school I had never walked to the -corner of the next street unattended. If it wasn't Mademoiselle it -was mother's maid, and if it wasn't either of them, it was mother -herself, telling me to hold my toes out and my shoulder blades in. -As I have said, I never knew any of the Other Sex, except the -miserable little beasts at dancing school. I used to make faces at -them when Mademoiselle was putting on my slippers and pulling out -my hair bow. They were totaly uninteresting, and I used to put pins -in my sash, so that they would get scratched. - -Their pumps mostly squeaked, and nobody noticed it, although I have -known my parents to dismiss a Butler who creaked at the table. - -When I was sent away to school, I expected to learn something of -life. But I was disapointed. I do not desire to criticize this -Institution of Learning. It is an excellent one, as is shown by the -fact that the best Families send their daughters here. But to learn -life one must know something of both sides of it, Male and Female. -It was, therefore, a matter of deep regret to me to find that, with -the exception of the Dancing Master, who has three children, and -the Gardner, there were no members of the sterner sex to be seen. - -The Athletic Coach was a girl! As she has left now to be married, -I venture to say that she was not what Lord Chesterfield so -uphoniously termed "SUAVITER IN MODO, FORTATER IN RE." - -When we go out to walk we are taken to the country, and the three -matinees a year we see in the city are mostly Shakspeare, aranged -for the young. We are allowed only certain magazines, the Atlantic -Monthly and one or two others, and Barbara Armstrong was penalized -for having a framed photograph of her brother in running clothes. - -At the school dances we are compeled to dance with each other, and -the result is that when at home at Holaday parties I always try to -lead, which annoys the boys I dance with. - -Notwithstanding all this it is an excellent school. We learn a -great deal, and our dear Principle is a most charming and erudite -person. But we see very little of Life. And if school is a -preparation for Life, where are we? - -Being here alone since the day after Christmas, I have had time to -think everything out. I am naturally a thinking person. And now I -am no longer indignant. I realize that I was wrong, and that I am -only paying the penalty that I deserve although I consider it most -unfair to be given French translation to do. I do not object to -going to bed at nine o'clock, although ten is the hour in the Upper -House, because I have time then to look back over things, and to -reflect, to think. - -"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." - SHAKSPEARE. - -BODY OF THEME: - -I now approach the narative of what happened during the first four -days of my Christmas Holiday. - -For a period before the fifteenth of December, I was rather worried. -All the girls in the school were getting new clothes for Christmas -parties, and their Families were sending on invitations in great -numbers, to various festivaties that were to occur when they went home. - -Nothing, however, had come for me, and I was worried. But on the -16th mother's visiting Secretary sent on four that I was to accept, -with tiped acceptances for me to copy and send. She also sent me -the good news that I was to have two party dresses, and I was to -send on my measurements for them. - -One of the parties was a dinner and theater party, to be given by -Carter Brooks on New Year's Day. Carter Brooks is the well-known Yale -Center, although now no longer such but selling advertizing, etcetera. - -It is tradgic to think that, after having so long anticapated that -party, I am now here in sackcloth and ashes, which is a figure of -speech for the Peter Thompson uniform of the school, with plain -white for evenings and no jewellry. - -It was with anticapatory joy, therefore, that I sent the -acceptances and the desired measurements, and sat down to -cheerfully while away the time in studies and the various duties of -school life, until the Holadays. - -However, I was not long to rest in piece, for in a few days I -received a letter from Carter Brooks, as follows: - - -DEAR BARBARA: It was sweet of you to write me so promptly, although -I confess to being rather astonished as well as delighted at being -called "Dearest." The signature too was charming, "Ever thine." -But, dear child, won't you write at once and tell me why the waist, -bust and hip measurements? And the request to have them really low -in the neck? - Ever thine, - CARTER. - -It will be perceived that I had sent him the letter to mother, by mistake. - -I was very unhappy about it. It was not an auspisious way to begin -the Holadays, especially the low neck. Also I disliked very much -having told him my waist measure which is large owing to Basket Ball. - -As I have stated before, I have known very few of the Other Sex, -but some of the girls had had more experience, and in the days -before we went home, we talked a great deal about things. -Especially Love. I felt that it was rather over-done, particularly -in fiction. Also I felt and observed at divers times that I would -never marry. It was my intention to go upon the stage, although -modafied since by what I am about to relate. - -The other girls say that I look like Julia Marlowe. - -Some of the girls had boys who wrote to them, and one of them--I -refrain from giving her name had--a Code. You read every third -word. He called her "Couzin" and he would write like this: - - -Dear Couzin: I am well. Am just about crazy this week to go home. -See notice enclosed you football game. - -And so on and on. Only what it really said was "I am crazy to see you." - -(In giving this Code I am betraying no secrets, as they have -quarreled and everything is now over between them.) - -As I had nobody, at that time, and as I had visions of a Career, I -was a man-hater. I acknowledge that this was a pose. But after all, -what is life but a pose? - -"Stupid things!" I always said. "Nothing in their heads but -football and tobacco smoke. Women," I said, "are only their -playthings. And when they do grow up and get a little intellagence -they use it in making money." - -There has been a story in the school--I got it from one of the -little girls--that I was disapointed in love in early youth, the -object of my atachment having been the Tener in our Church choir at -home. I daresay I should have denied the soft impeachment, but I -did not. It was, although not appearing so at the time, my first -downward step on the path that leads to destruction. - -"The way of the Transgresser is hard"--Bible. - -I come now to the momentous day of my return to my dear home for -Christmas. Father and my sister Leila, who from now on I will term "Sis," -met me at the station. Sis was very elegantly dressed, and she said: - -"Hello, Kid," and turned her cheek for me to kiss. - -She is, as I have stated, but 2O months older than I, and depends -altogether on her clothes for her beauty. In the morning she is -plain, although having a good skin. She was trimmed up with a -bouquet of violets as large as a dishpan, and she covered them with -her hands when I kissed her. - -She was waved and powdered, and she had on a perfectly new Outfit. -And I was shabby. That is the exact word. Shabby. If you have to -hang your entire Wardrobe in a closet ten inches deep, and put it -over you on cold nights, with the steam heat shut off at ten -o'clock, it does not make it look any better. - -My father has always been my favorite member of the family, and he -was very glad to see me. He has a great deal of tact, also, and -later on he slipped ten dollars in my purse in the motor. I needed -it very much, as after I had paid the porter and bought luncheon, -I had only three dollars left and an I. O. U. from one of the girls -for seventy-five cents, which this may remind her, if it is read in -class, she has forgoten. - -"Good heavens, Barbara," Sis said, while I hugged father, "you -certainly need to be pressed." - -"I daresay I'll be the better for a hot iron," I retorted, "but at least -I shan't need it on my hair." My hair is curly while hers is straight. - -"Boarding school wit!" she said, and stocked to the motor. - -Mother was in the car and glad to see me, but as usual she managed -to restrain her enthusiasm. She put her hands over some Orkids she -was wearing when I kissed her. She and Sis were on their way to -something or other. - -"Trimmed up like Easter hats, you two!" I said. - -"School has not changed you, I fear, Barbara," mother observed. "I -hope you are studying hard." - -"Exactly as hard as I have to. No more, no less," I regret to confess -that I replied. And I saw Sis and mother exchange glances of signifacance. - -We dropped them at the Reception and father went to his office and -I went on home alone. And all at once I began to be embittered. Sis -had everything, and what had I? And when I got home, and saw that -Sis had had her room done over, and ivory toilet things on her -dressing table, and two perfectly huge boxes of candy on a stand -and a Ball Gown laid out on the bed, I almost wept. - -My own room was just as I had left it. It had been the night -nursery, and there was still the dent in the mantel where I had -thrown a hair brush at Sis, and the ink spot on the carpet at the -foot of the bed, and everything. - -Mademoiselle had gone, and Hannah, mother's maid, came to help me -off with my things. I slammed the door in her face, and sat down on -the bed and RAGED. - -They still thought I was a little girl. They PATRONIZED me. I would -hardly have been surprised If they had sent up a bread and milk -supper on a tray. It was then and there that I made up my mind to -show them that I was no longer a mere child. That the time was gone -when they could shut me up in the nursery and forget me. I was -seventeen years and eleven days old, and Juliet, in Shakspeare, was -only sixteen when she had her well-known affair with Romeo. - -I had no plan then. It was not until the next afternoon that the -thing sprung (sprang?) full-pannoplied from the head of Jove. - -The evening was rather dreary. The family was going out, but not -until nine thirty, and mother and Leila went over my clothes. They -sat, Sis in pink chiffon and mother in black and silver, and Hannah -took out my things and held them up. I was obliged to silently sit -by, while my rags and misery were exposed. - -"Why this open humiliation?" I demanded at last. "I am the family -Cinderella, I admit it. But it isn't necessary to lay so much -emphacis on it, is it?" - -"Don't be sarcastic, Barbara," said mother. "You are still only a -Child, and a very untidy Child at that. What do you do with your -elbows to rub them through so? It must have taken patience and -aplication." - -"Mother" I said, "am I to have the party dresses?" - -"Two. Very simple." - -"Low in the neck?" - -"Certainly not. A small v, perhaps." - -"I've got a good neck." She rose impressively. - -"You amaze and shock me, Barbara," she said coldly. - -"I shouldn't have to wear tulle around my shoulders to hide the -bones!" I retorted. "Sis is rather thin." - -"You are a very sharp-tongued little girl," mother said, looking up -at me. I am two inches taller than she is. - -"Unless you learn to curb yourself, there will be no parties for -you, and no party dresses." - -This was the speach that broke the Camel's back. I could endure no more. - -"I think," I said, "that I shall get married and end everything." - -Need I explain that I had no serious intention of taking the fatal -step? But it was not deliberate mendasity. It was Despair. - -Mother actually went white. She cluched me by the arm and shook me. - -"What are you saying?" she demanded. - -"I think you heard me, mother" I said, very politely. I was -however thinking hard. - -"Marry whom? Barbara, answer me." - -"I don't know. Anybody." - -"She's trying to frighten you, mother" Sis said. "There isn't -anybody. Don't let her fool you." - -"Oh, isn't there?" I said in a dark and portentious manner. - -Mother gave me a long look, and went out. I heard her go into -father's dressing-room. But Sis sat on my bed and watched me. - -"Who is it, Bab?" she asked. "The dancing teacher? Or your riding -master? Or the school plumber?" - -"Guess again." - -"You're just enough of a little Simpleton to get tied up to some -wreched creature and disgrace us all." - -I wish to state here that until that moment I had no intention of -going any further with the miserable business. I am naturaly truthful, -and Deception is hateful to me. But when my sister uttered the above -dispariging remark I saw that, to preserve my own dignaty, which I -value above precious stones, I would be compelled to go on. - -"I'm perfectly mad about him," I said. "And he's crazy about me." - -"I'd like very much to know," Sis said, as she stood up and stared -at me, "how much you are making up and how much is true." - -None the less, I saw that she was terrafied. The family Kitten, to -speak in allegory, had become a Lion and showed its clause. - -When she had gone out I tried to think of some one to hang a love -affair to. But there seemed to be nobody. They knew perfectly well -that the dancing master had one eye and three children, and that -the clergyman at school was elderly, with two wives. One dead. - -I searched my Past, but it was blameless. It was empty and bare, -and as I looked back and saw how little there had been in it but -imbibing wisdom and playing basket-ball and tennis, and typhoid -fever when I was fourteen and almost having to have my head shaved, -a great wave of bitterness agatated me. - -"Never again," I observed to myself with firmness. "Never again, If -I have to invent a member of the Other Sex." - -At that time, however, owing to the appearance of Hannah with a -mending basket, I got no further than his name. - -It was Harold. I decided to have him dark, with a very small black -mustache, and Passionate eyes. I felt, too, that he would be -jealous. The eyes would be of the smouldering type, showing the -green-eyed monster beneath. - -I was very much cheered up. At least they could not ignore me any -more, and I felt that they would see the point. If I was old enough -to have a lover--especialy a jealous one with the aformentioned -eyes--I was old enough to have the necks of my frocks cut out. - -While they were getting their wraps on in the lower hall, I counted -my money. I had thirteen dollars. It was enough for a Plan I was -beginning to have in mind. - -"Go to bed early, Barbara," mother said when they were ready to go out. - -"You don't mind if I write a letter, do you?" - -"To whom?" - -"Oh, just a letter," I said, and she stared at me coldly. - -"I daresay you will write it, whether I consent or not. Leave it on -the hall table, and it will go out with the morning mail." - -"I may run out to the box with it." - -"I forbid your doing anything of the sort." - -"Oh, very well," I responded meekly. - -"If there is such haste about it, give it to Hannah to mail." - -"Very well," I said. - -She made an excuse to see Hannah before she left, and I knew THAT -I WAS BEING WATCHED. I was greatly excited, and happier than I had -been for weeks. But when I had settled myself in the Library, with -the paper in front of me, I could not think of anything to say in -a letter. So I wrote a poem instead. - - - "To H---- - "Dear love: you seem so far away, - I would that you were near. - I do so long to hear you say - Again, `I love you, dear.' - - "Here all is cold and drear and strange - With none who with me tarry, - I hope that soon we can arrange - To run away and marry." - - -The last verse did not scan, exactly, but I wished to use the word -"marry" if possible. It would show, I felt, that things were really -serious and impending. A love affair is only a love affair, but -Marriage is Marriage, and the end of everything. - -It was at that moment, 10 o'clock, that the Strange Thing occurred -which did not seem strange at all at the time, but which developed -into so great a mystery later on. Which was to actualy threaten my -reason and which, flying on winged feet, was to send me back here -to school the day after Christmas and put my seed pearl necklace in -the safe deposit vault. Which was very unfair, for what had my -necklace to do with it? And just now, when I need comfort, it--the -necklace--would help to releive my exile. - -Hannah brought me in a cup of hot milk, with a Valentine's malted -milk tablet dissolved in it. - -As I stirred it around, it occurred to me that Valentine would be -a good name for Harold. On the spot I named him Harold Valentine, -and I wrote the name on the envelope that had the poem inside, and -addressed it to the town where this school gets its mail. - -It looked well written out. "Valentine," also, is a word that -naturaly connects itself with AFFAIRS DE COUR. And I felt that I -was safe, for as there was no Harold Valentine, he could not call -for the letter at the post office, and would therefore not be able -to cause me any trouble, under any circumstances. And, furthermore. -I knew that Hannah would not mail the letter anyhow, but would give -it to mother. So, even if there was a Harold Valentine, he would -never get it. - -Comforted by these reflections, I drank my malted milk, ignorant of -the fact that Destiny, "which never swerves, nor yields to men the -helm"--Emerson, was stocking at my heels. - -Between sips, as the expression goes, I addressed the envelope to -Harold Valentine, and gave it to Hannah. She went out the front -door with it, as I had expected, but I watched from a window, and -she turned right around and went in the area way. So THAT was all right. - -It had worked like a Charm. I could tear my hair now when I think -how well it worked. I ought to have been suspicious for that very -reason. When things go very well with me at the start, it is a sure -sign that they are going to blow up eventualy. - -Mother and Sis slept late the next morning, and I went out -stealthily and did some shopping. First I bought myself a bunch of -violets, with a white rose in the center, and I printed on the card: - -"My love is like a white, white rose. H." And sent it to myself. - -It was deception, I acknowledge, but having put my hand to the -Plow, I did not intend to steer a crooked course. I would go -straight to the end. I am like that in everything I do. But, on -delibarating things over, I felt that Violets, alone and -unsuported, were not enough. I felt that If I had a photograph, it -would make everything more real. After all, what is a love affair -without a picture of the Beloved Object? - -So I bought a photograph. It was hard to find what I wanted, but I -got it at last in a stationer's shop, a young man in a checked suit -with a small mustache--the young man, of course, not the suit. -Unluckaly, he was rather blonde, and had a dimple in his chin. But -he looked exactly as though his name ought to be Harold. - -I may say here that I chose "Harold," not because it is a favorite -name of mine, but because it is romantic in sound. Also because I -had never known any one named Harold and it seemed only discrete. - -I took it home in my muff and put it under my pillow where Hannah -would find it and probably take it to mother. I wanted to buy a -ring too, to hang on a ribbon around my neck. But the violets had -made a fearful hole in my thirteen dollars. - -I borrowed a stub pen at the stationer's and I wrote on the -photograph, in large, sprawling letters, "To YOU from ME." - -"There," I said to myself, when I put it under the pillow. "You -look like a photograph, but you are really a bomb-shell." - -As things eventuated, it was. More so, indeed. - -Mother sent for me when I came in. She was sitting in front of her -mirror, having the vibrater used on her hair, and her manner was -changed. I guessed that there had been a family Counsel over the -poem, and that they had decided to try kindness. - -"Sit down, Barbara," she said. "I hope you were not lonely last night?" - -"I am never lonely, mother. I always have things to think about." - -I said this in a very pathetic tone. - -"What sort of things?" mother asked, rather sharply. - -"Oh--things," I said vaguely. "Life is such a mess, isn't it?" - -"Certainly not. Unless one makes it so." - -"But it is so difficult. Things come up and--and it's hard to -know what to do. The only way, I suppose, is to be true to one's -beleif in one's self." - -"Take that thing off my head and go out, Hannah," mother snapped. -"Now then, Barbara, what in the world has come over you?" - -"Over me? Nothing." - -"You are being a silly child." - -"I am no longer a child, mother. I am seventeen. And at seventeen -there are problems. After all, one's life is one's own. One must -decide----" - -"Now, Barbara, I am not going to have any nonsense. You must put -that man out of your head." - -"Man? What man?" - -"You think you are in love with some drivelling young Fool. I'm not -blind, or an idot. And I won't have it." - -"I have not said that there is anyone, have I?" I said in a gentle -voice. "But if there was, just what would you propose to do, mother?" - -"If you were three years younger I'd propose to spank you." Then I -think she saw that she was taking the wrong method, for she changed -her Tactics. "It's the fault of that Silly School," she said. -(Note: These are my mother's words, not mine.) "They are hotbeds of -sickley sentamentality. They----" - -And just then the violets came, addressed to me. Mother opened them -herself, her mouth set. "My love is like a white, white rose," she -said. "Barbara, do you know who sent these?" - -"Yes, mother," I said meekly. This was quite true. I did. - -I am indeed sorry to record that here my mother lost her temper, -and there was no end of a fuss. It ended by mother offering me a -string of seed pearls for Christmas, and my party dresses cut V -front and back, if I would, as she phrazed it, "put him out of my -silly head." - -"I shall have to write one letter, mother," I said, "to--to break -things off. I cannot tear myself out of another's Life without a word." - -She sniffed. - -"Very well," she said. "One letter. I trust you to make it only one." - -I come now to the next day. How true it is, that "Man's life is but -a jest, a dream, a shadow, bubble, air, a vapour at the best!" - -I spent the morning with mother at the dressmakers and she chose -two perfectly spiffing things, one of white chiffon over silk, made -modafied Empire, with little bunches of roses here and there on it, -and when she and the dressmaker were hagling over the roses, I took -the scizzors and cut the neck of the lining two inches lower in -front. The effect was posatively impressive. The other was blue -over orkid, a perfectly passionate combination. - -When we got home some of the girls had dropped in, and Carter -Brooks and Sis were having tea in the den. I am perfectly sure that -Sis threw a cigarette in the fire when I went in. When I think of -my sitting here alone, when I have done NOTHING, and Sis playing -around and smoking cigarettes, and nothing said, all for a -difference of 2O months, it makes me furious. - -"Let's go in and play with the children, Leila," he said. "I'm -feeling young today." - -Which was perfectly silly. He is not Methuzala. Although thinking -himself so, or almost. - -Well, they went into the drawing room. Elaine Adams was there -waiting for me, and Betty Anderson and Jane Raleigh. And I hadn't -been in the room five minutes before I knew that they all knew. It -turned out later that Hannah was engaged to the Adams's butler, and -she had told him, and he had told Elaine's governess, who is still -there and does the ordering, and Elaine sends her stockings home -for her to darn. - -Sis had told Carter, too, I saw that, and among them they had -rather a good time. Carter sat down at the piano and struck a few -chords, chanting "My Love is like a white, white rose." - -"Only you know" he said, turning to me, "that's wrong. It ought to -be a `red, red rose.'" - -"Certainly not. The word is `white.'" - -"Oh, is it?" he said, with his head on one side. "Strange that both -you and Harold should have got it wrong." - -I confess to a feeling of uneasiness at that moment. - -Tea came, and Carter insisted on pouring. - -"I do so love to pour!" he said. "Really, after a long day's -shopping, tea is the only thing that keeps me going until dinner. -Cream or lemon, Leila dear?" - -"Both," Sis said in an absent manner, with her eyes on me. "Barbara, -come into the den a moment. I want to show you mother's Xmas gift." - -She stocked in ahead of me, and lifted a book from the table. Under -it was the photograph. - -"You wretched child!" she said. "Where did you get that?" - -"That's not your affair, is it?" - -"I'm going to make it my affair. Did he give it to you?" - -"Have you read what's written on it?" - -"Where did you meet him?" - -I hesitated because I am by nature truthfull. But at last I said: - -"At school." - -"Oh," she said slowly. "So you met him at school! What was he doing -there? Teaching elocution?" - -"Elocution!" - -"This is Harold, is it?" - -"Certainly." Well, he WAS Harold, if I chose to call him that, -wasn't he? Sis gave a little sigh. - -"You're quite hopeless, Bab. And, although I'm perfectly sure you -want me to take the thing to mother, I'll do nothing of the sort." - -SHE FLUNG IT INTO THE FIRE. I was raging. It had cost me a dollar. -It was quite brown when I got it out, and a corner was burned off. -But I got it. - -"I'll thank you to burn your own things," I said with dignaty. And -I went back to the drawing room. - -The girls and Carter Brooks were talking in an undertone when I got -there. I knew it was about me. And Jane came over to me and put her -arm around me. - -"You poor thing!" she said. "Just fight it out. We're all with you." - -"I'm so helpless, Jane." I put all the despair I could into my -voice. For after all, if they were going to talk about my private -Affairs behind my back, I felt that they might as well have -something to talk about. As Jane's second couzin once removed is in -this school and as Jane will probably write her all about it, I -hope this Theme is read aloud in class, so she will get it all -straight. Jane is imaginative and may have a wrong idea of things. - -"Don't give in. Let them bully you. They can't really do anything. -And they're scared. Leila is positively sick." - -"I've promised to write and break it off," I said in a tence tone. - -"If he really loves you," said Jane, "the letter won't matter." -There was a thrill in her voice. Had I not been uneasy at my -deciet, I to would have thrilled. - -Some fresh muffins came in just then and I was starveing. But I -waved them away, and stood staring at the fire. - -I am writing all of this as truthfully as I can. I am not defending -myself. What I did I was driven to, as any one can see. It takes a -real shock to make the average Familey wake up to the fact that the -youngest daughter is not the Familey baby at seventeen. All I was -doing was furnishing the shock. If things turned out badly, as they -did, it was because I rather overdid the thing. That is all. My -motives were perfectly ireproachible. - -Well, they fell on the muffins like pigs, and I could hardly stand -it. So I wandered into the den, and it occurred to me to write the -letter then. I felt that they all expected me to do something anyhow. - -If I had never written the wretched letter things would be better -now. As I say, I overdid. But everything had gone so smoothly all -day that I was decieved. But the real reason was a new set of furs. -I had secured the dresses and the promise of the necklace on a Poem -and a Photograph, and I thought that a good love letter might bring -a muff. It all shows that it does not do to be grasping. - -HAD I NOT WRITTEN THE LETTER, THERE WOULD HAVE BEEN NO TRADGEDY. - -But I wrote it and if I do say it, it was a LETTER. I commenced it -"Darling," and I said I was mad to see him, and that I would always -love him. But I told him that the Familey objected to him, and that -this was to end everything between us. They had started the -phonograph in the library, and were playing "The Rosary." So I -ended with a verse from that. It was really a most affecting -letter. I almost wept over it myself, because, if there had been a -Harold, it would have broken his Heart. - -Of course I meant to give it to Hannah to mail, and she would give -it to mother. Then, after the family had read it and it had got in -its work, including the set of furs, they were welcome to mail it. -It would go to the Dead Letter Office, since there was no Harold. -It could not come back to me, for I had only signed it "Barbara." -I had it all figured out carefully. It looked as if I had -everything to gain, including the furs, and nothing to lose. Alas, -how little I knew! - -"The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft aglay." Burns. - -Carter Brooks ambled into the room just as I sealed it and stood -gazing down at me. - -"You're quite a Person these days, Bab," he said. "I suppose all the -customary Xmas kisses are being saved this year for what's his name." - -"I don't understand you." - -"For Harold. You know, Bab, I think I could bear up better if his -name wasn't Harold." - -"I don't see how it concerns you," I responded. - -"Don't you? With me crazy about you for lo, these many years! First -as a baby, then as a sub-sub-deb, and now as a sub-deb. Next year, -when you are a real Debutante----" - -"You've concealed your infatuation bravely." - -"It's been eating me inside. A green and yellow melancholly--hello! -A letter to him!" - -"Why, so it is," I said in a scornfull tone. - -He picked it up, and looked at it. Then he started and stared at me. - -"No!" he said. "It isn't possible! It isn't old Valentine!" - -Positively, my knees got cold. I never had such a shock. - -"It--it certainly is Harold Valentine," I said feebly. - -"Old Hal!" he muttered. "Well, who would have thought it! And not -a word to me about it, the secretive old duffer!" He held out his -hand to me. "Congratulations, Barbara," he said heartily. "Since -you absolutely refuse me, you couldn't do better. He's the finest -chap I know. If it's Valentine the Familey is kicking up such a row -about, you leave it to me. I'll tell them a few things." - -I was stunned. Would anybody have beleived it? To pick a name out -of the air, so to speak, and off a malted milk tablet, and then to -find that it actualy belonged to some one--was sickning. - -"It may not be the one you know" I said desperately. "It--it's a -common name. There must be plenty of Valentines." - -"Sure there are, lace paper and Cupids--lots of that sort. But -there's only one Harold Valentine, and now you've got him pinned to -the wall! I'll tell you what I'll do, Barbara. I'm a real friend of -yours. Always have been. Always will be. The chances are against -the Familey letting him get this letter. I'll give it to him." - -"GIVE it to him?" - -"Why, he's here. You know that, don't you? He's in town over -the holadays." - -"Oh, no!" I said in a gasping Voice. - -"Sorry," he said. "Probably meant it as a surprize to you. Yes, -he's here, with bells on." - -He then put the letter in his pocket before my very eyes, and sat -down on the corner of the writing table! - -"You don't know how all this has releived my mind," he said. "The -poor chap's been looking down. Not interested in anything. Of -course this explains it. He' s the sort to take Love hard. At college -he took everything hard--like to have died once with German meazles." - -He picked up a book, and the charred picture was underneath. He -pounced on it. "Pounced" is exactly the right word. - -"Hello!" he said. "Familey again, I suppose. Yes, it's Hal, all -right. Well, who would have thought it!" - -My last hope died. Then and there I had a nervous chill. I was -compelled to prop my chin on my hand to keep my teeth from chattering. - -"Tell you what I'll do," he said, in a perfectly cheerfull tone -that made me cold all over. "I'll be the Cupid for your Valentine. -See? Far be it from me to see Love's young dream wiped out by a -hardhearted Familey. I'm going to see this thing through. You count -on me, Barbara. I'll arrange that you get a chance to see each -other, Familey or no Familey. Old Hal has been looking down his -nose long enough. When's your first party?" - -"Tomorrow night," I gasped out. - -"Very well. Tomorrow night it is. It's the Adams's, isn't it, at -the Club?" - -I could only nod. I was beyond speaking. I saw it all clearly. I -had been wicked in decieving my dear Familey and now I was to pay -the Penalty. He would know at once that I had made him up, or -rather he did not know me and therefore could not possibly be in -Love with me. And what then? - -"But look here," he said, "if I take him there as Valentine, the -Familey will be on, you know. We'd better call him something else. -Got any choice as to a name?" - -"Carter" I said franticaly. "I think I'd better tell you. I----" - -"How about calling him Grosvenor?". he babbled on. "Grosvenor's a -good name. Ted Grosvenor--that ought to hit them between the eyes. -It's going to be rather a lark, Miss Bab!" - -And of course just then mother came in, and the Brooks idiot went -in and poured her a cup of tea, with his little finger stuck out at -a right angel, and every time he had a chance he winked at me. - -I wanted to die. - -When they had all gone home it seemed like a bad dream, the whole -thing. It could not be true. I went upstairs and manacured my -nails, which usually comforts me, and put my hair up like Leila's. - -But nothing could calm me. I had made my own Fate, and must lie in -it. And just then Hannah slipped in with a box in her hands and her -eyes frightened. - -"Oh, Miss Barbara!" she said. "If your mother sees this!" - -I dropped my manacure scizzors, I was so alarmed. But I opened the -box, and clutched the envelope inside. It said "from H----." Then -Carter was right. There was an H after all! - -Hannah was rolling her hands in her apron and her eyes were poping -out of her head. - -"I just happened to see the boy at the door," she said, with her -silly teeth chattering. "Oh, Miss Barbara, if Patrick had answered -the bell! What shall we do with them?" - -"You take them right down the back stairs," I said. "As if it was -an empty box. And put it outside with the waist papers. Quick." - -She gathered the thing up, but of course mother had to come in just -then and they met in the doorway. She saw it all in one glance, and -she snatched the card out of my hand. - -"From H----!" she read. "Take them out, Hannah, and throw them -away. No, don't do that. Put them on the Servant's table." Then, -when the door had closed, she turned to me. "Just one more -ridiculous Episode of this kind, Barbara," she said, "and you go -back to school--Xmas or no Xmas." - -I will say this. If she had shown the faintest softness, I'd have -told her the whole thing. But she did not. She looked exactly as -gentle as a macadam pavment. I am one who has to be handled with -Gentleness. A kind word will do anything with me, but harsh -treatment only makes me determined. I then become inflexable as iron. - -That is what happened then. Mother took the wrong course and -threatened, which as I have stated is fatal, as far as I am -concerned. I refused to yeild an inch, and it ended in my having my -dinner in my room, and mother threatening to keep me home from the -Party the next night. It was not a threat, if she had only known it. - -But when the next day went by, with no more flowers, and nothing -aparently wrong except that mother was very dignafied with me, I -began to feel better. Sis was out all day, and in the afternoon -Jane called me up. - -"How are you?" she said. - -"Oh, I'm all right." - -"Everything smooth?" - -"Well, smooth enough." - -"Oh, Bab," she said. "I'm just crazy about it. All the girls are." - -"I knew they were crazy about something." - -"You poor thing, no wonder you are bitter," she said. "Somebody's -coming. I'll have to ring off. But don't you give in, Bab. Not an -inch. Marry your Heart's Desire, no matter who butts in." - -Well, you can see how it was. Even then I could have told father -and mother, and got out of it somehow. But all the girls knew about -it, and there was nothing to do but go on. - -All that day every time I thought of the Party my heart missed a -beat. But as I would not lie and say that I was ill--I am naturaly -truthful, as far as possible--I was compelled to go, although my -heart was breaking. - -I am not going to write much about the party, except a slight -discription, which properly belongs in every Theme. - -All Parties for the school set are alike. The boys range from -knickerbockers to college men in their Freshmen year, and one is -likely to dance half the evening with youngsters that one saw last -in their perambulaters. It is rather startling to have about six -feet of black trouser legs and white shirt front come and ask one -to dance and then to get one's eyes raised as far as the top of -what looks like a particularly thin pair of tree trunks and see a -little boy's face. - -As this Theme is to contain discription I shall discribe the ball -room of the club where the eventful party occurred. - -The ball room is white, with red hangings, and looks like a -Charlotte Russe with maraschino cherries. Over the fireplace they -had put "Merry Christmas," in electric lights, and the chandaliers -were made into Christmas trees and hung with colored balls. One of -the balls fell off during the Cotillion, and went down the back of -one of the girl's dresses, and they were compelled to up-end her -and shake her out in the dressing room. - -The favors were insignifacant, as usual. It is not considered good -taste to have elaberate things for the school crowd. But when I -think of the silver things Sis always brought home, and remember -that I took away about six Christmas Stockings, a toy Baloon, four -Whistles, a wooden Canary in a cage and a box of Talcum Powder, I -feel that things are not fair in this World. - -Hannah went with me, and in the motor she said: - -"Oh, Miss Barbara, do be careful. The Familey is that upset." - -"Don't be a silly," I said. "And if the Familey is half as upset as -I am, it is throwing a fit at this minute." - -We were early, of course. My mother beleives in being on time, and -besides, she and Sis wanted the motor later. And while Hannah was -on her knees taking off my carriage boots, I suddenly decided that -I could not go down. Hannah turned quite pale when I told her. - -"What'll your mother say?" she said." And you with your new dress -and all! It's as much as my life is worth to take you back home -now, Miss Barbara." - -Well, that was true enough. There would be a Riot if I went home, -and I knew it. - -"I'll see the Stuard and get you a cup of tea," Hannah said. "Tea -sets me up like anything when I'm nervous. Now please be a good -girl, Miss Barbara, and don't run off, or do anything foolish." - -She wanted me to promise, but I would not, although I could not -have run anywhere. My legs were entirely numb. - -In a half hour at the utmost I knew all would be known, and very -likely I would be a homless wanderer on the earth. For I felt that -never, never could I return to my Dear Ones, when my terrable -actions became known. - -Jane came in while I was sipping the tea and she stood off and eyed -me with sympathy. - -"I don't wonder, Bab!" she said. "The idea of your Familey acting -so outragously! And look here" She bent over me and whispered it. -"Don't trust Carter too much. He is perfectly in fatuated with -Leila, and he will play into the hands of the enemy. BE CAREFUL." - -"Loathesome creature!" was my response. "As for trusting him, I -trust no one, these days." - -"I don't wonder your Faith is gone," she observed. But she was -talking with one eye on a mirror. - -"Pink makes me pale," she said. "I'll bet the maid has a drawer full -of rouge. I'm going to see. How about a touch for you? You look gastly." - -"I don't care how I look," I said, recklessly. "I think I'll sprain -my ankle and go home. Anyhow I am not allowed to use rouge." - -"Not allowed!" she observed. "What has that got to do with it? I -don't understand you, Bab; you are totaly changed." - -"I am suffering," I said. I was to. - -Just then the maid brought me a folded note. Hannah was hanging up -my wraps, and did not see it. Jane's eyes fairly bulged. - -"I hope you have saved the Cotillion for me," it said. And it was -signed. H----! - -"Good gracious," Jane said breathlessly."Don't tell me he is here, -and that that's from him!" - -I had to swallow twice before I could speak. Then I said, solemnly: - -"He is here, Jane. He has followed me. I am going to dance the -Cotillion with him although I shall probably be disinherited and -thrown out into the World, as a result." - -I have no recollection whatever of going down the staircase and -into the ballroom. Although I am considered rather brave, and once -saved one of the smaller girls from drowning, as I need not remind -the school, when she was skating on thin ice, I was frightened. I -remember that, inside the door, Jane said "Courage!" in a low tence -voice, and that I stepped on somebody's foot and said "Certainly" -instead of apologizing. The shock of that brought me around -somewhat, and I managed to find Mrs. Adams and Elaine, and not -disgrace myself. Then somebody at my elbow said: - -"All right, Barbara. Everything's fixed." - -It was Carter. - -"He's waiting in the corner over there," he said. "We'd better go -through the formalaty of an introduction. He's positively -twittering with excitement." - -"Carter" I said desparately. "I want to tell you somthing first. -I've got myself in an awful mess. I----" - -"Sure you have," he said. "That's why I'm here, to help you out. -Now you be calm, and there's no reason why you two can't have the -evening of your young lives. I wish ~I~ could fall in Love. It must -be bully." - -"Carter----!" - -"Got his note, didn't you?" - -"Yes, I----" - -"Here we are," said Carter. "Miss Archibald, I would like to -present Mr. Grosvenor." - -Somebody bowed in front of me, and then straightened up and looked -down at me. IT WAS THE MAN OF THE PICTURE, LITTLE MUSTACHE AND ALL. -My mouth went perfectly dry. - -It is all very well to talk about Romance and Love, and all that -sort of thing. But I have concluded that amorus experiences are not -always agreeable. And I have discovered something else. The moment -anybody is crazy about me I begin to hate him. It is curious, but -I am like that. I only care as long as they, or he, is far away. -And the moment I touched H's white kid glove, I knew I loathed him. - -"Now go to it, you to," Carter said in cautious tone. "Don't be -conspicuous. That's all." - -And he left us. - -"Suppose we dance this. Shall we?" said H. And the next moment we -were gliding off. He danced very well. I will say that. But at the -time I was too much occupied with hateing him to care about -dancing, or anything. But I was compelled by my pride to see things -through. We are a very proud Familey and never show our troubles, -though our hearts be torn with anguish. - -"Think," he said, when we had got away from the band, "think of our -being together like this!" - -"It's not so surprizing, is it? We've got to be together if we are -dancing." - -"Not that. Do you know, I never knew so long a day as this has -been. The thought of meeting you--er--again, and all that." - -"You needn't rave for my benefit," I said freesingly. "You know -perfectly well that you never saw me before." - -"Barbara! With your dear little Letter in my breast pocket -at this moment!" - -"I didn't know men had breast pockets in their evening clothes." - -"Oh well, have it your own way. I'm too happy to quarrel," he said. -"How well you dance--only, let me lead, won't you? How strange it -is to think that we have never danced together before!" - -"We must have a talk," I said desparately. "Can't we go somwhere, -away from the noise?" - -"That would be conspicuous, wouldn't it, under the circumstances? -If we are to overcome the Familey objection to me, we'll have to be -cautious, Barbara." - -"Don't call me Barbara," I snapped. "I know perfectly well what you -think of me, and I----" - -"I think you are wonderful," he said. "Words fail me when I try to -tell you what I am thinking. You've saved the Cotillion for me, -haven't you? If not, I'm going to claim it anyhow. IT IS MY RIGHT." - -He said it in the most determined manner, as if everything was settled. -I felt like a rat in a trap, and Carter, watching from a corner, -looked exactly like a cat. If he had taken his hand in its white glove - and washed his face with it, I would hardly have been surprized. - -The music stopped, and somebody claimed me for the next. Jane came -up, too, and cluched my arm. - -"You lucky thing!" she said. "He's perfectly handsome. And oh, Bab, -he's wild about you. I can see it in his eyes." - -"Don't pinch, Jane," I said coldly. "And don't rave. He's an idiot." - -She looked at me with her mouth open. - -"Well, if you don't want him, pass him on to me," she said, and -walked away. - -It was too silly, after everything that had happened, to dance the -next dance with Willie Graham, who is still in knickerbockers, and -a full head shorter than I am. But that's the way with a Party for -the school crowd, as I've said before. They ask all ages, from -perambulaters up, and of course the little boys all want to dance -with the older girls. It is deadly stupid. - -But H seemed to be having a good time. He danced a lot with Jane, -who is a wreched dancer, with no sense of time whatever. Jane is not -pretty, but she has nice eyes, and I am not afraid, second couzin -once removed or no second couzin once removed, to say she used them. - -Altogether, it was a terrible evening. I danced three dances out of -four with knickerbockers, and one with old Mr. Adams, who is fat -and rotates his partner at the corners by swinging her on his -waistcoat. Carter did not dance at all, and every time I tried to -speak to him he was taking a crowd of the little girls to the -fruit-punch bowl. - -I determined to have things out with H during the Cotillion, and -tell him that I would never marry him, that I would Die first. But -I was favored a great deal, and when we did have a chance the music -was making such a noise that I would have had to shout. Our chairs -were next to the band. - -But at last we had a minute, and I went out to the verandah, which -was closed in with awnings. He had to follow, of course, and I -turned and faced him. - -"Now" I said, "this has got to stop." - -"I don't understand you, Bab." - -"You do, perfectly well," I stormed. "I can't stand it. I am going crazy." - -"Oh," he said slowly. "I see. I've been dancing too much with the -little girl with the eyes! Honestly, Bab, I was only doing it to -disarm suspicion. MY EVERY THOUGHT IS OF YOU." - -"I mean," I said, as firmly as I could, "that this whole thing has -got to stop. I can't stand it." - -"Am I to understand," he said solemnly, "that you intend -to end everything?" - -I felt perfectly wild and helpless. - -"After that Letter!" he went on. "After that sweet Letter! You -said, you know, that you were mad to see me, and that--it is almost -too sacred to repeat, even to YOU--that you would always love me. -After that Confession I refuse to agree that all is over. It can -NEVER be over." - -"I daresay I am losing my mind," I said. "It all sounds perfectly -natural. But it doesn't mean anything. There CAN'T be any Harold -Valentine; because I made him up. But there is, so there must be. -And I am going crazy." - -"Look here," he stormed, suddenly quite raving, and throwing out -his right hand. It would have been terrably dramatic, only he had -a glass of punch in it. "I am not going to be played with. And you -are not going to jilt me without a reason. Do you mean to deny -everything? Are you going to say, for instance, that I never sent -you any violets? Or gave you my Photograph, with an--er--touching -inscription on it?" Then, appealingly, "You can't mean to deny that -Photograph, Bab!" - -And then that lanky wretch of an Eddie Perkins brought me a toy -Baloon, and I had to dance, with my heart crushed. - -Nevertheless, I ate a fair supper. I felt that I needed Strength. -It was quite a grown-up supper, with boullion and creamed chicken -and baked ham and sandwitches, among other things. But of course -they had to show it was a `kid' party, after all. For instead of -coffee we had milk. - -Milk! When I was going through a tradgedy. For if it is not a -tradgedy to be engaged to a man one never saw before, what is it? - -All through the refreshments I could feel that his eyes were on me. -And I hated him. It was all well enough for Jane to say he was -handsome. She wasn't going to have to marry him. I detest dimples -in chins. I always have. And anybody could see that it was his -first mustache, and soft, and that he took it round like a mother -pushing a new baby in a perambulater. It was sickning. - -I left just after supper. He did not see me when I went upstairs, -but he had missed me, for when Hannah and I came down, he was at -the door, waiting. Hannah was loaded down with silly favors, and -lagged behind, which gave him a chance to speak to me. I eyed him -coldly and tried to pass him, but I had no chance. - -"I'll see you tomorrow, DEAREST," he whispered. - -"Not if I can help it," I said, looking straight ahead. Hannah had -dropped a stocking--not her own. One of the Xmas favors--and was -fumbling about for it. - -"You are tired and unerved to-night, Bab. When I have seen your -father tomorrow, and talked to him----" - -"Don't you dare to see my father." - -"----and when he has agreed to what I propose," he went on, without -paying any atention to what I had said, "you will be calmer. We can -plan things." - -Hannah came puffing up then, and he helped us into the motor. He -was very careful to see that we were covered with the robes, and he -tucked Hannah's feet in. She was awfully flattered. Old Fool! And -she babbled about him until I wanted to slap her. - -"He's a nice young man. Miss Bab," she said. "That is, if he's the -One. And he has nice manners. So considerate. Many a party I've -taken your sister to, and never before----" - -"I wish you'd shut up, Hannah," I said. "He's a Pig, and I hate him." - -She sulked after that, and helped me out of my things at home -without a word. When I was in bed, however, and she was hanging up -my clothes, she said: - -"I don't know what's got into you, Miss Barbara. You are that cross -that there's no living with you." - -"Oh, go away," I said. - -"And what's more," she added, "I don't know but what your mother -ought to know about these goingson. You're only a little girl, with -all your high and mightiness, and there's going to be no scandal in -this Familey if I can help it." - -I put the bedclothes over my head, and she went out. - -But of course I could not sleep. Sis was not home yet, or mother, -and I went into Sis's room and got a novel from her table. It was -the story of a woman who had married a man in a hurry, and without -really loving him, and when she had been married a year, and hated -the very way her husband drank his coffee and cut the ends off his -cigars, she found some one she really loved with her Whole Heart. -And it was too late. But she wrote him one Letter, the other man, -you know, and it caused a lot of trouble. So she said--I remember -the very words-- - -"Half the troubles in the world are caused by Letters. Emotions are -changable things"--this was after she had found that she really -loved her husband after all, but he had had to shoot himself before -she found it out, although not fataly--"but the written word does -not change. It remains always, embodying a dead truth and giving it -apparent life. No woman should ever put her thoughts on paper." - -She got the Letter back, but she had to steal it. And it turned out -that the other man had really only wanted her money all the time. - -That story was a real ilumination to me. I shall have a great deal -of money when I am of age, from my grandmother. I saw it all. It -was a trap sure enough. And if I was to get out I would have to -have the letter. - -IT WAS THE LETTER THAT PUT ME IN HIS POWER. - -The next day was Xmas. I got a lot of things, including the -necklace, and a mending basket from Sis, with the hope that it -would make me tidey, and father had bought me a set of Silver Fox, -which mother did not approve of, it being too expencive for a young -girl to wear, according to her. I must say that for an hour or two -I was happy enough. - -But the afternoon was terrable. We keep open house on Xmas -afternoon, and father makes a champagne punch, and somebody pours -tea, although nobody drinks it, and there are little cakes from the -Club, and the house is decorated with poin--(Memo: Not in the -Dictionery and I cannot spell it, although not usualy troubled as -to spelling.) - -At eleven o'clock the mail came in, and mother sorted it over, -while father took a gold piece out to the post-man. - -There were about a million cards, and mother glanced at the -addresses and passed them round. But suddenly she frowned. There -was a small parcel, addressed to me. - -"This looks like a Gift, Barbara," she said. And proceded to open it. - -My heart skipped two beats, and then hamered. Mother's mouth was -set as she tore off the paper and opened the box. There was a card, -which she glanced at, and underneath, was a book of poems. - -"Love Lyrics," said mother, in a terrable voice. "To Barbara, from H----" - -"Mother----" I began, in an ernest tone. - -"A child of mine recieving such a book from a man!" she went on. -"Barbara, I am speachless." - -But she was not speachless. If she was speachless for the next half -hour, I would hate to hear her really converse. And all that I -could do was to bear it. For I had made a Frankenstein--see the -book read last term by the Literary Society--not out of grave-yard -fragments, but from malted milk tablets, so to speak, and now it -was pursuing me to an early grave. For I felt that I simply could -not continue to live. - -"Now--where does he live?" - -"I--don't know, mother." - -"You sent him a Letter." - -"I don't know where he lives, anyhow." - -"Leila," mother said, "will you ask Hannah to bring my smelling salts?" - -"Aren't you going to give me the book?" I asked. "It--it -sounds interesting." - -"You are shameless," mother said, and threw the thing into the -fire. A good many of my things seemed to be going into the fire at -that time. I cannot help wondering what they would have done if it -had all happened in the summer, and no fires burning. They would -have felt quite helpless, I imagine. - -Father came back just then, but he did not see the Book, which was -then blazing with a very hot red flame. I expected mother to tell -him, and I daresay I should not have been surprised to see my furs -follow the book. I had got into the way of expecting to see things -burning that do not belong in a fireplace. But mother did not tell him. - - -I have thought over this a great deal, and I beleive that now I -understand. Mother was unjustly putting the blame for everything on -this School, and mother had chosen the School. My father had not -been much impressed by the catalogue. "Too much dancing room and -not enough tennis courts," he had said. This, of course, is my -father's opinion. Not mine. - -The real reason, then, for mother's silence was that she disliked -confessing that she made a mistake in her choice of a School. - -I ate very little Luncheon and my only comfort was my seed pearls. -I was wearing them, for fear the door-bell would ring, and a Letter -or flowers would arrive from H. In that case I felt quite sure that -someone, in a frenzy, would burn the Pearls also. - -The afternoon was terrable. It rained solid sheets, and Patrick, -the butler, gave notice three hours after he had recieved his Xmas -presents, on account of not being let off for early mass. - -But my father's punch is famous, and people came, and stood around -and buzzed, and told me I had grown and was almost a young lady. -And Tommy Gray got out of his cradle and came to call on me, and -coughed all the time, with a whoop. He developed the whooping cough -later. He had on his first long trousers, and a pair of lavender -Socks and a Tie to match. He said they were not exactly the same -shade, but he did not think it would be noticed. Hateful child! - -At half past five, when the place was jamed, I happened to look up. -Carter Brooks was in the hall, and behind him was H. He had seen me -before I saw him, and he had a sort of sickley grin, meant to -denote joy. I was talking to our Bishop at the time, and he was -asking me what sort of services we had in the school chapel. - -I meant to say "non-sectarian," but in my surprize and horror I -regret to say that I said, "vegetarian." Carter Brooks came over to -me like a cat to a saucer of milk, and pulled me off into a corner. - -"It's all right," he said. "I 'phoned mama, and she said to bring -him. He's known as Grosvenor here, of course. They'll never suspect -a thing. Now, do I get a small `thank you'?" - -"I won't see him." - -"Now look here, Bab," he protested, "you two have got to make this -thing up You are a pair of Idiots, quarreling over nothing. Poor -old Hal is all broken up. He's sensative. You've got to remember -how sensative he is." - -"Go, away" I cried, in broken tones. "Go away, and take him with you." - -"Not until he had spoken to your Father," he observed, setting his -jaw. "He's here for that, and you know it. You can't play fast and -loose with a man, you know." - -"Don't you dare to let him speak to father!" - -He shrugged his shoulders. - -"That's between you to, of course," he said. "It's not up to me. -Tell him yourself, if you've changed your mind. I don't intend," he -went on, impressively, "to have any share in ruining his life." - -"Oh piffle," I said. I am aware that this is slang, and does not -belong in a Theme. But I was driven to saying it. - -I got through the crowd by using my elbows. I am afraid I gave the -Bishop quite a prod, and I caught Mr. Andrews on his rotateing -waistcoat. But I was desparate. - -Alas, I was too late. - -The caterer's man, who had taken Patrick's place in a hurry, was at -the punch bowl, and father was gone. I was just in time to see him -take H. into his library and close the door. - -Here words fail me. I knew perfectly well that beyond that door H, -whom I had invented and who therefore simply did not exist, was -asking for my Hand. I made up my mind at once to run away and go on -the stage, and I had even got part way up the stairs, when I -remembered that, with a dollar for the picture and five dollars for -the violets and three dollars for the hat pin I had given Sis, and -two dollars and a quarter for mother's handkercheif case, I had -exactly a dollar and seventy-five cents in the world. - -I WAS TRAPPED. - -I went up to my room, and sat and waited. Would father be violent, -and throw H. out and then come upstairs, pale with fury and -disinherit me? Or would the whole Familey conspire together, when -the people had gone, and send me to a convent? I made up my mind, -if it was the convent, to take the veil and be a nun. I would go to -nurse lepers, or something, and then, when it was too late, they -would be sorry. - -The stage or the convent, nun or actress? Which? - -I left the door open, but there was only the sound of revelry -below. I felt then that it was to be the convent. I pinned a towel -around my face, the way the nuns wear whatever they call them, and -from the side it was very becoming. I really did look like Julia -Marlowe, especialy as my face was very sad and tradgic. - -At something before seven every one had gone, and I heard Sis and -mother come upstairs to dress for dinner. I sat and waited, and -when I heard father I got cold all over. But he went on by, and I -heard him go into mother's room and close the door. Well, I knew I -had to go through with it, although my life was blasted. So I -dressed and went downstairs. - -Father was the first down. HE CAME DOWN WHISTLING. - -It is perfectly true. I could not beleive my ears. - -He approached me with a smileing face. - -"Well, Bab," he said, exactly as if nothing had happened, "have you -had a nice day?" - -He had the eyes of a bacilisk, that creature of Fable. - -"I've had a lovely day, Father," I replied. I could be bacilisk-ish also. - -There is a mirror over the drawing room mantle, and he turned me -around until we both faced it. - -"Up to my ears," he said, referring to my heighth." And Lovers -already! Well, I daresay we must make up our minds to lose you." - -"I won't be lost," I declared, almost violently. "Of course, if you -intend to shove me off your hands, to the first Idiot who comes -along and pretends a lot of stuff, I----" - -"My dear child!" said father, looking surprised. "Such an outburst! -All I was trying to say, before your mother comes down, is that -I--well, that I understand and that I shall not make my little girl -unhappy by--er--by breaking her Heart." - -"Just what do you mean by that, father?" - -He looked rather uncomfortable, being one who hates to talk sentament. - -"It's like this, Barbara," he said. "If you want to marry this -young man--and you have made it very clear that you do--I am going -to see that you do it. You are young, of course, but after all your -dear mother was not much older than you are when I married her." - -"Father!" I cried, from an over-flowing heart. - -"I have noticed that you are not happy, Barbara," he said. "And I -shall not thwart you, or allow you to be thwarted. In affairs of -the Heart, you are to have your own way." - -"I want to tell you something!" I cried. "I will NOT be -cast off! I----" - -"Tut, tut," said Father. "Who is casting you off? I tell you that -I like the young man, and give you my blessing, or what is the -present-day equivelent for it, and you look like a figure of Tradgedy!" - -But I could endure no more. My own father had turned on me and was -rending me, so to speak. With a breaking heart and streaming eyes -I flew to my Chamber. - -There, for hours I paced the floor. - -Never, I determined, would I marry H. Better death, by far. He was -a scheming Fortune-hunter, but to tell the family that was to -confess all. And I would never confess. I would run away before I -gave Sis such a chance at me. I would run away, but first I would -kill Carter Brooks. - -Yes, I was driven to thoughts of murder. It shows how the first -false step leads down and down, to crime and even to death. Oh -never, never, gentle reader, take that first False Step. Who knows -to what it may lead! - -"One false Step is never retreived." Gray--On a Favorite Cat. - -I reflected also on how the woman in the book had ruined her life -with a letter. "The written word does not change," she had said. "It -remains always, embodying a dead truth and giving it apparent life." - -"Apparent life" was exactly what my letter had given to H. -Frankenstein. That was what I called him, in my agony. I felt that -if only I had never written the Letter there would have been no -trouble. And another awful thought came to me: Was there an H after -all? Could there be an H? - -Once the French teacher had taken us to the theater in New York, -and a woman sitting on a chair and covered with a sheet, had -brought a man out of a perfectly empty Cabinet, by simply willing -to do it. The Cabinet was empty, for four respectible looking men -went up and examined it, and one even measured it with a Tape-measure. - -She had materialised him, out of nothing. - -And while I had had no Cabinet, there are many things in this world -"that we do not dream of in our Philosophy." Was H. a real person, -or a creature of my disordered brain? In plain and simple language, -COULD THERE BE SUCH A PERSON? - -I feared not. - -And If there was no H, really, and I married him, where would I be? - -There was a ball at the Club that night, and the Familey all went. -No one came to say good-night to me, and by half past ten I was -alone with my misery. I knew Carter Brooks would be at the ball, -and H also, very likely, dancing around as agreably as if he really -existed, and I had not made him up. - -I got the book from Sis's room again, and re-read it. The woman in -it had been in great trouble, too, with her husband cleaning his -revolver and making his will. And at last she had gone to the -apartments of the man who had her letters, in a taxicab covered -with a heavy veil, and had got them back. He had shot himself when -she returned--the husband--but she burned the letters and then called -a Doctor, and he was saved. Not the doctor, of course. The husband. - -The villain's only hold on her had been the letters, so he went to South -Africa and was gored by an elephant, thus passing out of her life. - -Then and there I knew that I would have to get my letter back from -H. Without it he was powerless. The trouble was that I did not know -where he was staying. Even if he came out of a Cabinet, the Cabinet -would have to be somewhere, would it not? - -I felt that I would have to meet gile with gile. And to steal one's -own letter is not really stealing. Of course if he was visiting any -one and pretending to be a real person, I had no chance in the -world. But if he was stopping at a hotel I thought I could manage. -The man in the book had had an apartment, with a Japanese servant, -who went away and drew plans of American Forts in the kitchen and -left the woman alone with the desk containing the Letter. But I daresay -that was unusualy lucky and not the sort of thing to look forward to. - -With me, to think is to act. Hannah was out, it being Xmas and her -brother-in-law having a wake, being dead, so I was free to do -anything I wanted to. - -First I called the Club and got Carter Brooks on the telephone. - -"Carter," I said, "I--I am writing a letter. Where is-- -where does H. stay?" - -"Who?" - -"H.--Mr. Grosvenor." - -"Why, bless your ardent little Heart! Writing, are you? It's -sublime, Bab!" - -"Where does he live?" - -"And is it all alone you are, on Xmas Night!" he burbled. (This is -a word from Alice in WonderLand, and although not in the -dictionery, is quite expressive.) - -"Yes," I replied, bitterly. "I am old enough to be married off -without my consent, but I am not old enough for a real Ball. It -makes me sick." - -"I can smuggle him here, if you want to talk to him." - -"Smuggle!" I said, with scorn. "There is no need to smuggle him. -The Familey is crazy about him. They are flinging me at him." - -"Well, that's nice," he said. "Who'd have thought it! Shall I bring -him to the 'phone?" - -"I don't want to talk to him. I hate him." - -"Look here," he observed, "if you keep that up, he'll begin to -beleive you. Don't take these little quarrels too hard, Barbara. -He's so happy to-night in the thought that you----" - -"Does he live in a Cabinet, or where?" - -"In a what? I don't get that word." - -"Don't bother. Where shall I send his letter?" - -Well, it seemed he had an apartment at the Arcade, and I rang off. -It was after eleven by that time, and by the time I had got into my -school mackintosh and found a heavy veil of mother's and put it on, -it was almost half past. - -The house was quiet, and as Patrick had gone, there was no one -around in the lower Hall. I slipped out and closed the door behind -me, and looked for a taxicab, but the veil was so heavy that I -hailed our own limousine, and Smith had drawn up at the curb before -I knew him. - -"Where to, lady?" he said. "This is a private car, but I'll take -you anywhere in the city for a dollar." - -A flush of just indignation rose to my cheek, at the knowledge that -Smith was using our car for a taxicab! And just as I was about to -speak to him severely, and threaten to tell father, I remembered, -and walked away. - -"Make it seventy-five cents," he called after me. But I went on. It -was terrable to think that Smith could go on renting our car to all -sorts of people, covered with germs and everything, and that I -could never report it to the Familey. - -I got a real taxi at last, and got out at the Arcade, giving the -man a quarter, although ten cents would have been plenty as a tip. - -I looked at him, and I felt that he could be trusted. - -"This," I said, holding up the money, "is the price of Silence." - -But If he was trustworthy he was not subtile, and he said: - -"The what, miss?" - -"If any one asks if you have driven me here, YOU HAVE NOT" I -explained, in an impressive manner. - -He examined the quarter, even striking a match to look at it. Then -he replied: "I have not!" and drove away. - -Concealing my nervousness as best I could, I entered the doomed -Building. There was only a hall boy there, asleep in the elevator, -and I looked at the thing with the names on it. "Mr. Grosvenor" was -on the fourth floor. - -I wakened the boy, and he yawned and took me to the fourth floor. -My hands were stiff with nervousness by that time, but the boy was -half asleep, and evadently he took me for some one who belonged -there, for he said "Goodnight" to me, and went on down. There was -a square landing with two doors, and "Grosvenor" was on one. I -tried it gently. It was unlocked. - -"FACILUS DESCENSUS IN AVERNU." - -I am not defending myself. What I did was the result of -desparation. But I cannot even write of my sensations as I stepped -through that fatal portal, without a sinking of the heart. I had, -however, had suficient forsight to prepare an alabi. In case there -was some one present in the apartment I intended to tell a falshood, -I regret to confess, and to say that I had got off at the wrong floor. - -There was a sort of hall, with a clock and a table, and a shaded -electric lamp, and beyond that the door was open into a sitting room. - -There was a small light burning there, and the remains of a wood -fire in the fireplace. There was no Cabinet however. - -Everything was perfectly quiet, and I went over to the fire and -warmed my hands. My nails were quite blue, but I was strangly calm. -I took off mother's veil, and my mackintosh, so I would be free to -work, and I then looked around the room. There were a number of -photographs of rather smart looking girls, and I curled my lip -scornfully. He might have fooled them but he could not decieve me. -And it added to my bitterness to think that at that moment the -villain was dancing--and flirting probably--while I was driven to -actual theft to secure the Letter that placed me in his power. - -When I had stopped shivering I went to his desk. There were a lot -of letters on the top, all addressed to him as Grosvenor. It struck -me suddenly as strange that if he was only visiting, under an assumed -name, in order to see me, that so many people should be writing to -him as Mr. Grosvenor. And it did not look like the room of a man -who was visiting, unless he took a freight car with him on his travels. - -THERE WAS A MYSTERY. All at once I knew it. - -My letter was not on the desk, so I opened the top drawer. It -seemed to be full of bills, and so was the one below it. I had just -started on the third drawer, when a terrable thing happened. - -"Hello!" said some one behind me. - -I turned my head slowly, and my heart stopped. - -THE PORTERES INTO THE PASSAGE HAD OPENED, AND A GENTLEMAN IN HIS -EVENING CLOTHES WAS STANDING THERE. - -"Just sit still, please," he said, in a perfectly cold voice. And -he turned and locked the door into the hall. I was absolutely -unable to speak. I tried once, but my tongue hit the roof of my -mouth like the clapper of a bell. - -"Now," he said, when he had turned around. "I wish you would tell -me some good reason why I should not hand you over to the Police." - -"Oh, please don't!" I said. - -"That's eloquent. But not a reason. I'll sit down and give you a -little time. I take it, you did not expect to find me here." - -"I'm in the wrong apartment. That's all," I said. "Maybe you'll -think that's an excuse and not a reason. I can't help it if you do." - -"Well," he said, "that explains some things. It's pretty well -known, I fancy, that I have little worth stealing, except my good name." - -"I was not stealing," I replied in a sulky manner. - -"I beg your pardon," he said. "It IS an ugly word. We will strike -it from the record. Would you mind telling me whose apartment you -intended to--er--investigate? If this is the wrong one, you know." - -"I was looking for a Letter." - -"Letters, letters!" he said. "When will you women learn not to -write letters. Although"--he looked at me closely--"you look rather -young for that sort of thing." He sighed. "It's born in you, I -daresay," he said. - -Well, for all his patronizing ways, he was not very old himself. - -"Of course," he said, "if you are telling the truth--and it sounds -fishy, I must say--it's hardly a Police matter, is it? It's rather -one for diplomasy. But can you prove what you say?" - -"My word should be suficient," I replied stiffly. "How do I know -that YOU belong here?" - -"Well, you don't, as a matter of fact. Suppose you take my word for -that, and I agree to beleive what you say about the wrong -apartment, Even then it's rather unusual. I find a pale and -determined looking young lady going through my desk in a -business-like manner. She says she has come for a Letter. Now the -question is, is there a Letter? If so, what Letter?" - -"It is a love letter," I said. - -"Don't blush over such a confession," he said. "If it is true, be -proud of it. Love is a wonderful thing. Never be ashamed of being -in love, my child." - -"I am not in love," I cried with bitter furey. - -"Ah! Then it is not YOUR letter!" - -"I wrote it." - -"But to simulate a passion that does not exist--that is -sackrilege. It is----" - -"Oh, stop talking," I cried, in a hunted tone. "I can't bear it. If -you are going to arrest me, get it over." - -"I'd rather NOT arrest you, if we can find a way out. You look so -young, so new to Crime! Even your excuse for being here is so -naive, that I--won't you tell me why you wrote a love letter, if -you are not in love? And whom you sent it to? That's important, you -see, as it bears on the case. I intend," he said, "to be -judgdicial, unimpassioned, and quite fair." - -"I wrote a love letter" I explained, feeling rather cheered, "but -it was not intended for any one, Do you see? It was just a love letter." - -"Oh," he said. "Of course. It is often done. And after that?" - -"Well, it had to go somewhere. At least I felt that way about it. -So I made up a name from some malted milk tablets----" - -"Malted milk tablets!" he said, looking bewildered. - -"Just as I was thinking up a name to send it to," I explained, -"Hannah--that's mother's maid, you know--brought in some hot milk -and some malted milk tablets, and I took the name from them." - -"Look here," he said, "I'm unpredjudiced and quite calm, but isn't -the `mother's maid' rather piling it on?" - -"Hannah is mother's maid, and she brought in the milk and the -tablets, I should think," I said, growing sarcastic, "that so far -it is clear to the dullest mind." - -"Go on," he said, leaning back and closing his eyes. "You named the -letter for your mother's maid--I mean for the malted milk. Although -you have not yet stated the name you chose; I never heard of any -one named Milk, and as to the other, while I have known some rather -thoroughly malted people--however, let that go." - -"Valentine's tablets," I said. "Of Course, you understand," I said, -bending forward, "there was no such Person. I made him up. The -Harold was made up too--Harold Valentine." - -"I see. Not clearly, perhaps, but I have a gleam of intellagence." - -"But, after all, there was such a person. That's clear, isn't it? And -now he considers that we are engaged, and--and he insists on marrying me." - -"That," he said, "is realy easy to understand. I don't blame him at -all. He is clearly a person of diszernment." - -"Of course," I said bitterly, "you would be on HIS side. Every one is." - -"But the point is this," he went on. "If you made him up out of the -whole cloth, as it were, and there was no such Person, how can -there be such a Person? I am merely asking to get it all clear in -my head. It sounds so reasonable when you say it, but there seems -to be something left out." - -"I don't know how he can be, but he is," I said, hopelessly. "And -he is exactly like his picture." - -"Well, that's not unusual, you know." - -"It is in this case. Because I bought the picture in a shop, and -just pretended it was him. (He?) And it WAS." - -He got up and paced the floor. - -"It's a very strange case," he said. "Do you mind if I light a -cigarette? It helps to clear my brain. What was the name you gave him?" - -"Harold Valentine. But he is here under another name, because of my -Familey. They think I am a mere child, you see, and so of course he -took a NOM DE PLUME." - -"A NOM DE PLUME? Oh I see! What is it?" - -"Grosvenor," I said. "The same as yours." - -"There's another Grosvenor in the building, That's where the -trouble came in, I suppose, Now let me get this straight. You wrote -a letter, and somehow or other he got it, and now you want it back. -Stripped of the things that baffle my intellagence, that's it, isn't it?" - -I rose in excitement. - -"Then, if he lives in the building, the letter is probably here. -Why can't you go and get it for me?" - -"Very neat! And let you slip away while I am gone?" - -I saw that he was still uncertain that I was telling him the truth. -It was maddening. And only the Letter itself could convince him. - -"Oh, please try to get it," I cried, almost weeping. "You can lock -me in here, if you are afraid I will run away. And he is out. I -know he is. He is at the Club ball." - -"Naturaly," he said "the fact that you are asking me to compound a -felony, commit larceny, and be an accessery after the fact does not -trouble you. As I told you before, all I have left is my good name, -and now----!" - -"Please!" I said. - -He stared down at me. - -"Certainly," he said. "Asked in that tone, Murder would be one of -the easiest things I do. But I shall lock you in." - -"Very well," I said meekly. And after I had described it--the -Letter--to him he went out. - -I had won, but my triumph was but sackcloth and ashes in my mouth. -I had won, but at what a cost! Ah, how I wished that I might live -again the past few days! That I might never have started on my Path -of Deception! Or that, since my intentions at the start had been so -inocent, I had taken another photograph at the shop, which I had -fancied considerably but had heartlessly rejected because of no mustache. - -He was gone for a long time, and I sat and palpatated. For what if -H. had returned early and found him and called in the Police? - -But the latter had not occurred, for at ten minutes after one he -came back, eutering by the window from a fire-escape, and much -streaked with dirt. - -"Narrow escape, dear child!" he observed, locking the window and -drawing the shade. "Just as I got it, your--er--gentleman friend -returned and fitted his key in the lock. I am not at all sure," he -said, wiping his hands with his handkerchief, "that he will not -regard the open window as a suspicious circumstance. He may be of -a low turn of mind. However, all's well that ends here in this -room. Here it is." - -I took it, and my heart gave a great leap of joy. I was saved. - -"Now," he said, "we'll order a taxicab and get you home. And while -it is coming suppose you tell me the thing over again. It's not as -clear to me as it ought to be, even now." - -So then I told him--about not being out yet, and Sis having flowers -sent her, and her room done over, and never getting to bed until -dawn. And that they treated me like a mere Child, which was the -reason for everything, and about the Poem, which he considered -quite good. And then about the Letter. - -"I get the whole thing a bit clearer now," he said. "Of course, it -is still cloudy in places. The making up somebody to write to is -understandable, under the circumstances. But it is odd to have had -the very Person materialise, so to speak. It makes me wonder--well, -how about burning the Letter, now we've got it? It would be better, -I think. The way things have been going with you, if we don't -destroy it, it is likely to walk off into somebody else's pocket -and cause more trouble." - -So we burned it, and then the telephone rang and said the taxi was there. - -"I'll get my coat and be ready in a jiffey," he said, "and maybe we -can smuggle you into the house and no one the wiser. We'll try anyhow." - -He went into the other room and I sat by the fire and thought. You -remember that when I was planning Harold Valentine, I had imagined -him with a small, dark mustache, and deep, passionate eyes? Well, -this Mr. Grosvenor had both, or rather, all three. And he had the -loveliest smile, with no dimple. He was, I felt, exactly the sort -of man I could die for. - -It was too tradgic that, with all the world to choose from, I had -not taken him instead of H. - -We walked downstairs, so as not to give the elevator boy a chance -to talk, he said. But he was asleep again, and we got to the street -and to the taxicab without being seen. - -Oh, I was very cheerful. When I think of it--but I might have -known, all along. Nothing went right with me that week. - -Just before we got to the house he said: - -"Goodnight and goodbye, little Barbara. I'll never forget you and this -evening. And save me a dance at your coming-out party. I'll be there." - -I held out my hand, and he took it and kissed it. It was all -perfectly thrilling. And then we drew up in front of the house and -he helped me out, and my entire Familey had just got out of the -motor and was lined up on the pavment staring at us! - -"All right, are you?" he said, as coolly as if they had not been -anywhere in sight. "Well, good night and good luck!" And he got -into the taxicab and drove away, leaving me in the hands of the Enemy. - -The next morning I was sent back to school. They never gave me a -chance to explain, for mother went into hysterics, after accusing -me of having men dangling around waiting at every corner. They had -to have a doctor, and things were awful. - -The only person who said anything was Sis. She came to my room that -night when I was in bed, and stood looking down at me. She was very -angry, but there was a sort of awe in her eyes. - -"My hat's off to you, Barbara," she said. "Where in the world do you -pick them all up? Things must have changed at school since I was there." - -"I'm sick to death of the Other Sex," I replied languidley. "It's no -punishment to send me away. I need a little piece and quiet." And I did. - - -CONCLUSION: - -All this holaday week, while the girls are away, I have been -writing this Theme, for Literature class. To-day is New Years and -I am putting in the finishing touches. I intend to have it tiped in -the village and to send a copy to father, who I think will -understand, and another copy, but with a few lines cut, to Mr. -Grosvenor. The nice one. There were some things he did not quite -understand, and this will explain. - -I shall also send a copy to Carter Brooks, who came out handsomly -with an apoligy this morning in a letter and a ten pound box of Candy. - -His letter explains everything. H. is a real person and did not -come out of a Cabinet. Carter recognized the photograph as being -one of a Mr. Grosvenor he went to college with, who had gone on the -stage and was playing in a stock company at home. Only they were -not playing Xmas week, as business, he says, is rotten then. When -he saw me writing the letter he felt that it was all a bluff, -especialy as he had seen me sending myself the violets at the florists. - -So he got Mr. Grosvenor, the blonde one, to pretend he was Harold -Valentine. Only things slipped up. I quote from Carter's letter: - - -"He's a bully chap, Bab, and he went into it for a lark, roses and -poems and all. But when he saw that you took it rather hard, he -felt it wasn't square. He went to your father to explain and -apologized, but your father seemed to think you needed a lesson. -He's a pretty good Sport, your father. And he said to let it go on -for a day or two. A little worry wouldn't hurt you." - - -However, I do not call it being a good sport to see one's daughter -perfectly wreched and do nothing to help. And more than that, to -willfully permit one's child to suffer, and enjoy it. - -But it was father, after all, who got the Jolt, I think, when he -saw me get out of the taxicab. - -Therefore I will not explain, for a time. A little worry will not -hurt him either. - -I will not send him his copy for a week. - -Perhaps, after all, I will give him somthing to worry about -eventually. For I have recieved a box of roses, with no card, but -a pen and ink drawing of a Gentleman in evening clothes crawling -onto a fire-escape through an open window. He has dropped his -Heart, and it is two floors below. - -My narative has now come to a conclusion, and I will close with a -few reflections drawin from my own sad and tradgic Experience. I -trust the Girls of this School will ponder and reflect. - -Deception is a very sad thing. It starts very easy, and without -Warning, and everything seems to be going all right, and No Rocks -ahead. When suddenly the Breakers loom up, and your frail Vessel sinks, -with you on board, and maybe your dear Ones, dragged down with you. - - Oh, what a tangeled Web we wieve, - When first we practice to decieve. - Sir Walter Scott. - - - -CHAPTER II - -THEME: THE CELEBRITY - -WE have been requested to write, during this vacation, a true and -varacious account of a meeting with any Celebrity we happened to -meet during the summer. If no Celebrity, any interesting character -would do, excepting one's own Familey. - -But as one's own Familey is neither celebrated nor interesting, -there is no temptation to write about it. - -As I met Mr. Reginald Beecher this summer, I have chosen -him as my Subject. - -Brief history of the Subject: He was born in 1890 at Woodbury, N. -J. Attended public and High Schools, and in 1910 graduated from -Princeton University. - -Following year produced first Play in New York, called Her Soul. -Followed this by the Soul Mate, and this by The Divorce. - -Description of Subject. Mr. Beecher is tall and slender, and wears -a very small dark Mustache. Although but twenty-six years of age, -his hair on close inspection reveals here and there a Silver -Thread. His teeth are good, and his eyes amber, with small flecks -of brown in them. He has been vacinated twice. - -It has alwavs been one of my chief ambitions to meet a Celebrity. -On one or two occasions we have had them at school, but they never -sit at the Junior's table. Also, they are seldom connected with -either the Drama or The Movies (a slang term but aparently taking -a place in our Literature). - -It was my intention, on being given this subject for my midsummer -theme, to seek out Mrs. Bainbridge, a lady Author who has a cottage -across the bay from ours, and to ask the privelege of sitting at -her feet for a few hours, basking in the sunshine of her presence, -and learning from her own lips her favorite Flower, her favorite -Poem and the favorite child of her Brain. - - Of all those arts in which the wise excel, - Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well. - Duke of Buckingham - - -I had meant to write my Theme on her, but I learned in time that -she was forty years of age. Her work is therefore done. She has -passed her active years, and I consider that it is not the past of -American Letters which is at stake, but the future. Besides, I was -more interested in the Drama than in Literature. - -Posibly it is owing to the fact that the girls think I resemhle -Julia Marlowe, that from my earliest years my mind has been turned -toward the Stage. I am very determined and fixed in my ways, and -with me to decide to do a thing is to decide to do it. I am not of -a romantic Nature, however, and as I learned of the dangers of the -theater, I drew back. Even a strong nature, such as mine is, on -occassions, can be influenced. I therefore decided to change my -plans, and to write Plays instead of acting in them. - -At first I meant to write Comedies, but as I realized the graveity -of life, and its bitterness and disapointments, I turned naturaly -to Tradgedy. Surely, as dear Shakspeare says: - - The world is a stage - Where every man must play a part, - And mine a sad one. - - -This explains my sinsere interest in Mr. Beecher. His Works were -all realistic and sad. I remember that I saw the first one three -years ago, when a mere Child, and became violently ill from crying -and had to be taken home. - -The school will recall that last year I wrote a Play, patterned on -The Divorce, and that only a certain narowness of view on the part -of the faculty prevented it being the Class Play. If I may be -permited to express an opinion, we of the class of 1917 are not -children, and should not be treated as such. - -Encouraged by the Aplause of my class-mates, and feeling that I was -of a more serious turn of mind than most of them, who seem to think -of pleasure only, I decided to write a play during the summer. I -would thus be improving my Vacation hours, and, I considered, -keeping out of mischeif. It was pure idleness which had caused my -Trouble during the last Christmas holidays. How true it is that the -Devil finds work for idle Hands! - -With a Play and this Theme I beleived that the Devil would give me -up as a totle loss, and go elsewhere. - -How little we can read the Future! - -I now proceed to an account of my meeting and acquaintence with Mr. -Beecher. It is my intention to conceal nothing. I can only comfort -myself with the thought that my Motives were inocent, and that I -was obeying orders and secureing material for a theme. I consider -that the atitude of my Familey is wrong and cruel, and that my -sister Leila, being only 2O months older, although out in Society, -has no need to write me the sort of letters she has been writing. -Twenty months is twenty months, and not two years, although she -seems to think it is. - -I returned home full of happy plans for my vacation. When I look -back it seems strange that the gay and inocent young girl of the -train can have heen I. So much that is tradgic has since happened. -If I had not had a cinder in my eye things would have been -diferent. But why repine? Fate frequently hangs thus on a single -hair--an eye-lash, as one may say. - -Father met me at the train. I had got the aformentioned cinder in -my eye, and a very nice young man had taken it out for me. I still -cannot see what harm there was in our chating together after that, -especialy as we said nothing to object to. But father looked very -disagreeable about it, and the young man went away in a hurry. But -it started us off wrong, although I got him--father--to promise not -to tell mother. - -"I do wish you would be more careful, Bab," he said with a sort of sigh. - -"Careful!" I said. "Then it's not doing Things, but being found -out, that matters!" - -"Careful in your conduct, Bab." - -"He was a beautiful young man, father," I observed, sliping my arm -through his. - -"Barbara, Barbara! Your poor mother----" - -"Now look here, father" I said. "If it was mother who was -interested in him it might be troublesome. But it is only me. And -I warn you, here and now, that I expect to be thrilled at the sight -of a Nice Young Man right along. It goes up my back and out the -roots of my hair." - -Well, my father is a real Person, so he told me to talk sense, and -gave me twenty dollars, and agreed to say nothing about the young -man to mother, if I would root for Canada against the Adirondacks -for the summer, because of the Fishing. - -Mother was waiting in the hall for me, but she held me off with -both hands. - -"Not until you have bathed and changed your clothing, Barbara," she -said. "I have never had it." - -She meant the whooping cough. The school will recall the epademic -which ravaged us last June, and changed us from a peaceful -institution to what sounded like a dog show. - -Well, I got the same old room, not much fixed up, but they had put -up diferent curtains anyhow, thank goodness. I had been hinting all -spring for new Furnature, but my Familey does not take a hint -unless it is cloroformed first, and I found the same old stuff there. - -They beleive in waiting until a girl makes her Debut before giving -her anything but the necessarys of life. - -Sis was off for a week-end, but Hannah was there, and I kissed her. -Not that I'm so fond of her, but I had to kiss sombody. - -"Well, Miss Barbara!" she said. "How you've grown!" - -That made me rather sore, because I am not a child any longer, but they -all talk to me as if I were but six years old, and small for my age. - -"I've stopped growing, Hannah," I said, with dignaty." At least, -almost. But I see I still draw the nursery." - -Hannah was opening my suitcase, and she looked up and said: "I -tried to get you the Blue room, Miss Bab. But Miss Leila said she -needed it for house Parties." - -"Never mind," I said. "I don't care anything about Furnature. I -have other things to think about, Hannah; I want the school room -Desk up here." - -"Desk!" she said, with her jaw drooping. - -"I am writing now," I said. "I need a lot of ink, and paper, and a -good Lamp. Let them keep the Blue room, Hannah, for their selfish -purposes. I shall be happy in my work. I need nothing more." - -"Writing!" said Hannah. "Is it a book you're writing?" - -"A Play." - -"Listen to the child! A Play!" - -I sat on the edge of the bed. - -"Listen, Hannah," I said. "It is not what is outside of us that -matters. It is what is inside. It is what we are, not what we eat, -or look like, or wear. I have given up everything, Hannah, to my Career." - -"You're young yet," said Hannah. "You used to be fond enough of the Boys." - -Hannah has been with us for years, so she gets rather talkey at -times, and has to be sat upon. - -"I care nothing whatever for the Other Sex," I replied hautily. - -She was opening my suitcase at the time, and I was surveying the chamber -which was to be the seen of my Literary Life, at least for some time. - -"Now and then," I said to Hannah, "I shall read you parts of it. -Only you mustn't run and tell mother." - -"Why not?" said she, pearing into the Suitcase. - -"Because I intend to deal with Life," I said. "I shall deal with -real Things, and not the way we think them. I am young, but I have -thought a great deal. I shall minse nothing." - -"Look here, Miss Barbara," Hannah said, all at once, "what are you -doing with this whiskey Flask? And these socks? And--you come right -here, and tell me where you got the things in this Suitcase." I stocked -over to the bed, and my blood frose in my vains. IT WAS NOT MINE. - -Words cannot fully express how I felt. While fully convinsed that -there had been a mistake, I knew not when or how. Hannah was -staring at me with cold and accusing eyes. - -"You're a very young Lady, Miss Barbara," she said, with her eyes -full of Suspicion, "to be carrying a Flask about with you." I was as -puzzled as she was, but I remained calm and to all apearances Spartan. - -"I am young in years," I remarked. "But I have seen Life, Hannah." - -Now I meant nothing by this at the time. But it was getting on my -nerves to be put in the infant class all the time. The Xmas before -they had done it, and I had had my revenge. Although it had hurt me -more than it hurt them, and if I gave them a fright I gave myself -a worse one. As I said at that time: - - Oh, what a tangeled web we weive, - When first we practice to decieve. - Sir Walter Scott. - - -Hannah gave me a horrafied Glare, and dipped into the Suitcase -again. She brought up a tin box of Cigarettes, and I thought she -was going to have delerium tremens at once. - -Well, at first I thought the girls at school had played a Trick on -me, and a low down mean Trick at that. There are always those who -think it is funny to do that sort of thing, but they are the first -to squeel when anything is done to them. Once I put a small garter -Snake in a girl's muff, and it went up her sleave, which is nothing -to some of the things she had done to me. And you would have -thought the School was on fire. - -Anyhow, I said to myself that some Smarty was trying to get me into -trouble, and Hannah would run to the Familey, and they'd never -beleive me. All at once I saw all my cherished plans for the summer -gone, and me in the Country somewhere with Mademoiselle, and -walking through the pasture with a botany in one hand and a folding -Cup in the other, in case we found a spring a cow had not stepped -in. Mademoiselle was once my Governess, but has retired to private -life, except in cases of emergency. - -I am naturaly very quick in mind. The Archibalds are all like that, -and when once we decide on a Course we stick to it through thick -and thin. But we do not lie. It is rediculous for Hannah to say I -said the cigarettes were mine. All I said was: - -"I suppose you are going to tell the Familey. You'd better run, or -you'll burst." - -"Oh, Miss Barbara, Miss Barbara!" she said." And you so young to be -so wild!" - -This was unjust, and I am one to resent injustice. I had returned -home with my mind fixed on serious Things, and now I was being told -I was wild. - -"If I tell your mother she'll have a fit," Hannah said, evadently -drawn hither and thither by emotion. "Now see here, Miss Bab, -you've just come Home, and there was trouble at your last vacation -that I'm like to remember to my dieing day. You tell me how those -things got there, like a good girl, and I'll say nothing about them." - -I am naturaly sweet in disposition, but to call me a good girl and -remind me of last Xmas holadays was too much. My natural firmness -came to the front. - -"Certainly NOT," I said. - -"You needn't stick your lip out at me, Miss Bab, that was only -giving you a chance, and forgetting my Duty to help you, not to -mention probably losing my place when the Familey finds out." - -"Finds out what?" - -"What you've been up to, the stage, and writing plays, and now -liquor and tobacco!" - -Now I may be at fault in the Narative that follows. But I ask the -school if this was fair treatment. I had returned to my home full -of high Ideals, only to see them crushed beneath the heal of -domestic tyranny. - - -Necessity is the argument of tyrants; it is the creed of slaves. - William Pitt. - - -How true are these immortal words. - -It was with a firm countenance but a sinking heart that I saw -Hannah leave the room. I had come home inspired with lofty Ambition, -and it had ended thus. Heart-broken, I wandered to the bedside, and -let my eyes fall on the Suitcase, the container of all my woe. - -Well, I was surprised, all right. It was not and never had been -mine. Instead of my blue serge sailor suit and my ROBE DE NUIT and -kimona etc., it contained a checked gentleman's suit, a mussed -shirt and a cap. At first I was merely astonished. Then a sense of -loss overpowered me. I suffered. I was prostrated with grief. Not -that I cared a Rap for the clothes I'd lost, being most of them to -small and patched here and there. But I had lost the plot of my -Play. My Career was gone. - -I was undone. - -It may be asked what has this Recitle to do with the account of -meeting a Celebrity. I reply that it has a great deal to do with -it. A bare recitle of a meeting may be News, but it is not Art. - -A theme consists of Introduction, Body and Conclusion. - -This is still the Introduction. - -When I was at last revived enough to think I knew what had -happened. The young man who took the Cinder out of my eye had come -to sit beside me, which I consider was merely kindness on his part -and nothing like Flirting, and he had brought his Suitcase over, -and they had got mixed up. But I knew the Familey would call it -Flirting, and not listen to a word I said. - -A madness siezed me. Now that everything is over, I realize that it -was madness. But "there is a divinity that shapes our ends etc." It -was to be. It was Karma, or Kismet, or whatever the word is. It was -written in the Book of Fate that I was to go ahead, and wreck my -life, and generaly ruin everything. - -I locked the door behind Hannah, and stood with tradgic feet, -"where the brook and river meet." What was I to do? How hide this -evadence of my (presumed) duplicaty? I was inocent, but I looked -gilty. This, as everyone knows, is worse than gilt. - -I unpacked the Suitcase as fast as I could, therfore, and being -just about destracted, I bundled the things up and put them all -together in the toy Closet, where all Sis's dolls and mine are, -mine being mostly pretty badly gone, as I was always hard on dolls. - -How far removed were those Inocent Years when I played with dolls! - -Well, I knew Hannah pretty well, and therfore was not surprised -when, having hidden the trowsers under a doll buggy, I heard -mother's voice at the door. - -"Let me in, Barbara," she said. - -I closed the closet door, and said: "What is it, mother?" - -"Let me in." - -So I let her in, and pretended I expected her to kiss me, which she -had not yet, on account of the whooping cough. But she seemed to -have forgotten that. Also the Kiss. - -"Barbara," she said, in the meanest voice, "how long -have you been smoking?" - -Now I must pause to explain this. Had mother aproached me in a -sweet and maternal manner, I would have been softened, and would -have told the Whole Story. But she did not. She was, as you might -say, steeming with Rage. And seeing that I was misunderstood, I -hardened. I can be as hard as adamant when necessary. - -"What do you mean, mother?" - -"Don't anser one question with another." - -"How can I anser when I don't understand you?" - -She simply twiched with fury. - -"You--a mere Child!" she raved. "And I can hardly bring myself to -mention it--the idea of your owning a Flask, and bringing it into -this house--it is--it is----" - -Well, I was growing cold and more hauty every moment, so I said: "I -don't see why the mere mention of a Flask upsets you so. It isn't -because you aren't used to one, especialy when traveling. And since -I was a mere baby I have been acustomed to intoxicants." - -"Barbara!" she intergected, in the most dreadful tone. - -"I mean, in the Familey," I said. "I have seen wine on our table -ever since I can remember. I knew to put salt on a claret stain -before I could talk." - -Well, you know how it is to see an Enemy on the run, and although -I regret to refer to my dear mother as an Enemy, still at that -moment she was such and no less. And she was beating it. It was the -referance to my youth that had aroused me, and I was like a wounded -lion. Besides, I knew well enough that if they refused to see that -I was practicaly grown up, if not entirely, I would get a lot of -Sis's clothes, fixed up with new ribbons. Faded old things! I'd had -them for years. - -Better to be considered a bad woman than an unformed child. - -"However, mother," I finished, "if it is any comfort to you, I did -not buy that Flask. And I am not a confirmed alcoholic. By no means." - -"This settles it," she said, in a melancoly tone. "When I think of -the comfort Leila has been to me, and the anxiety you have caused, -I wonder where you get your--your DEVILTRY from. I am posatively faint." - -I was alarmed, for she did look queer, with her face all white -around the Rouge. So I reached for the Flask. - -"I'll give you a swig of this," I said. "It will pull you -around in no time." - -But she held me off feircely. - -"Never!" she said. "Never again. I shall emty the wine cellar. -There will be nothing to drink in this house from now on. I do not -know what we are coming to." - -She walked into the bathroom, and I heard her emptying the Flask -down the drain pipe. It was a very handsome Flask, silver with gold -stripes, and all at once I knew the young man would want it back. -So I said: - -"Mother, please leave the Flask here anyhow." - -"Certainly not." - -"It's not mine, mother." - -"Whose is it?" - -"It--a friend of mine loned it to me." - -"Who?" - -"I can't tell you." - -"You can't TELL me! Barbara, I am utterly bewildered. I sent you -away a simple child, and you return to me--what?" - -Well, we had about an hour's fight over it, and we ended in a -compromise. I gave up the Flask, and promised not to smoke and so -forth, and I was to have some new dresses and a silk Sweater, and -to be allowed to stay up until ten o'clock, and to have a desk in -my room for my work. - -"Work!" mother said. "Career! What next? Why can't you be like -Leila, and settle down to haveing a good time?" - -"Leila and I are diferent," I said loftily, for I resented her -tone. "Leila is a child of the moment. Life for her is one grand, -sweet Song. For me it is a serious matter. `Life is real, life is -earnest, and the Grave is not its goal,'" I quoted in impasioned tones. - -(Because that is the way I feel. How can the Grave be its goal? -THERE MUST BE SOMETHING BEYOND. I have thought it all out, and I -beleive in a world beyond, but not in a hell. Hell, I beleive, is -the state of mind one gets into in this world as a result of one's -wicked Acts or one's wicked Thoughts, and is in one's self.) - -As I have said, the other side of the Compromise was that I was not -to carry Flasks with me, or drink any punch at parties if it had a -stick in it, and you can generally find out by the taste. For if it -is what Carter Brooks calls "loaded" it stings your tongue. Or if -it tastes like cider it's probably Champane. And I was not to smoke -any cigarettes. - -Mother was holding out on the Sweater at that time, saying that Sis -had a perfectly good one from Miami, and why not wear that? So I -put up a strong protest about the cigarettes, although I have never -smoked but once as I think the School knows, and that only half -through, owing to getting dizzy. I said that Sis smoked now and -then, because she thought it looked smart; but that, if I was to -have a Career, I felt that the sootheing influence of tobaco would -help a lot. - -So I got the new Sweater, and everything looked smooth again, and -mother kissed me on the way out, and said she had not meant to be -harsch, but that my great uncle Putnam had been a notorious -drunkard, and I looked like him, although of a more refined tipe. - -There was a dreadful row that night, however, when father came -home. We were all dressed for dinner, and waiting in the drawing -room, and Leila was complaining about me, as usual. - -"She looks older than I do now, mother," she said. "If she goes to -the seashore with us I'll have her always taging at my heals. I -don't see why I can't have my first summer in peace." Oh, yes, we -were going to the shore, after all. Sis wanted it, and everybody -does what she wants, regardless of what they prefer, even Fishing. - -"First summer!" I exclaimed. "One would think you were a teething baby!" - -"I was speaking to mother, Barbara. Everyone knows that a Debutante -only has one year nowadays, and if she doesn't go off in that year -she's swept away by the flood of new Girls the next fall. We might -as well be frank. And while Barbara's not a beauty, as soon as the -bones in her neck get a little flesh on them she won't be hopeless, -and she has a flipant manner that Men like." - -"I intend to keep Barbara under my eyes this summer," mother said -firmly. "After last Xmas's happenings, and our Discovery today, I -shall keep her with me. She need not, however, interfere with you, -Leila. Her Hours are mostly diferent, and I will see that her -friends are the younger boys." - -I said nothing, but I knew perfectly well she had in mind Eddie -Perkins and Willie Graham, and a lot of other little kids that hang -around the fruit Punch at parties, and throw the peas from the -Croquettes at each other when the footmen are not near, and pretend -they are allowed to smoke, but have sworn off for the summer. - -I was naturaly indignant at Sis's words, which were not filial, to -my mind, but I replied as sweetly as possable: - -"I shall not be in your way, Leila. I ask nothing but Food and -Shelter, and that perhaps not for long." - -"Why? Do you intend to die?" she demanded. - -"I intend to work," I said. "It's more interesting than dieing, and -will be a novelty in this House." - -Father came in just then, and he said: - -"I'll not wait to dress, Clara. Hello, children. I'll just change -my coller while you ring for the Cocktails." - -Mother got up and faced him with Magesty. - -"We are not going to have, any" she said. - -"Any what?" said father from the doorway. - -"I have had some fruit juice prepared with a dash of bitters. It is -quite nice. And I'll ask you, James, not to explode before the -servants. I will explain later." - -Father has a very nice disposition but I could see that mother's -manner got on his Nerves, as it got on mine. Anyhow there was a -terific fuss, with Sis playing the Piano so that the servants would -not hear, and in the end father had a Cocktail. Mother waited until -he had had it, and was quieter, and then she told him about me, and -my having a Flask in my Suitcase. Of course I could have explained, -but if they persisted in mis-understanding me, why not let them do -so, and be miserable? - -"It's a very strange thing, Bab," he said, looking at me, "that -everything in this House is quiet until you come home, and then we -get as lively as kittens in a frying pan. We'll have to marry you -off pretty soon, to save our piece of mind." - -"James!" said my mother. "Remember last winter, please." - -There was no Claret or anything with dinner, and father ordered -mineral water, and criticised the food, and fussed about Sis's -dressmaker's bill. And the second man gave notice immediately after -we left the dining room. When mother reported that, as we were -having coffee in the drawing room, father said: - -"Humph! Well, what can you expect? Those fellows have been getting -the best half of a bottle of Claret every night since they've been -here, and now it's cut off. Damed if I wouldn't like to leave myself." - -From that time on I knew that I was watched. It made little or no -diference to me. I had my Work, and it filled my life. There were -times when my Soul was so filled with joy that I could hardly bare -it. I had one act done in two days. I wrote out the Love seens in -full, because I wanted to be sure of what they would say to each -other. How I thrilled as each marvelous burst of Fantacy flowed -from my pen! But the dialogue of less interesting parts I left for -the actors to fill in themselves. I consider this the best way, as -it gives them a chance to be original, and not to have to say the -same thing over and over. - -Jane Raleigh came over to see me the day after I came home, and I -read her some of the Love seens. She posatively wept with excitement. - -"Bab," she said, "if any man, no matter who, ever said those things -to me, I'd go straight into his arms. I couldn't help it. Whose -going to act in it?" - -"I think I'll have Robert Edeson, or Richard Mansfield." - -"Mansfield's dead," said Jane. - -"Honestly?" - -"Honest he is. Why don't you get some of these moveing picture actors? -They never have a chance in the Movies, only acting and not talking." - -Well, that sounded logicle. And then I read her the place where the -cruel first husband comes back and finds her married again and -happy, and takes the Children out to drown them, only he can't -because they can swim, and they pull him in instead. The curtain -goes down on nothing but a few bubbles rising to mark his watery Grave. - -Jane was crying. - -"It is too touching for words, Bab!" she said. "It has broken my -heart. I can just close my eyes aud see the Theater dark, and the -stage almost dark, and just those bubbles coming up and breaking. -Would you have to have a tank?" - -"I darsay," I replied dreamily. "Let the other people worry about -that. I can only give them the material, and hope that they have -intellagence enough to grasp it." - -I think Sis must have told Carter Brooks something about the -trouble I was in, for he brought me a box of Candy one afternoon, -and winked at me when mother was not looking. - -"Don't open it here," he whispered. - -So I was forced to controll my impatience, though passionately fond -of Candy. And when I got to my room later, the box was full of -cigarettes. I could have screamed. It just gave me one more thing -to hide, as if a man's suit and shirt and so on was not suficient. - -But Carter paid more attention to me than he ever had before, and -at a tea dance sombody had at the Country Club he took me to one -side and gave me a good talking to. - -"You're being rather a bad child, aren't you?" he said. - -"Certainly not." - -"Well, not bad, but--er--naughty. Now see here, Bab, I'm fond of -you, and you're growing into a mightey pretty girl. But your whole -Social Life is at stake. For heaven's sake, at least until you're -married, cut out the cigarettes and booze." - -That cut me to the heart, but what could I say? - -Well, July came, and we had rented a house at Little Hampton and -everywhere one went one fell over an open trunk or a barrell -containing Silver or Linen. - -Mother went around with her lips moving as if in prayer, but she -was realy repeating lists, such as sowing basket, table candles, -headache tablets, black silk stockings and tennis rackets. - -Sis got some lovely Clothes, mostly imported, but they had a woman -come in and sow for me. Hannah and she used to interupt my most -precious Moments at my desk by running a tape measure around me, or -pinning a paper pattern to me. The sowing woman always had her -mouth full of Pins, and once, owing to my remarking that I wished -I had been illagitimate, so I could go away and live my own life, -she swallowed one. It caused a grate deal of excitement, with -Hannah blaming me and giving her vinigar to swallow to soften the -pin. Well, it turned out all right, for she kept on living, but she -pretended to have sharp pains all over her here and there, and if -the pin had been as lively as a tadpole and wriggled from spot to -spot, it could not have hurt in so many Places. - -Of course they blamed me, and I shut myself up more and more in my -Sanctuery. There I lived with the creatures of my dreams, and -forgot for a while that I was only a Sub-Deb, and that Leila's last -year's tennis clothes were being fixed over for me. - -But how true what dear Shakspeare says: - - - dreams, - Which are the children of an idle brain. - Begot of nothing but vain fantasy. - - -I loved my dreams, but alas, they were not enough. After a tortured -hour or two at my desk, living in myself the agonies of my -characters, suffering the pangs of the wife with two husbands and -both living, struggling in the water with the children, fruit of -the first union, dying with number two and blowing my last Bubbles -heavenward--after all these emotions, I was done out. - -Jane came in one day and found me prostrate on my couch, with a -light of sufering in my eyes. - -"Dearest!" cried Jane, and gliding to my side, fell on her knees. - -"Jane!" - -"What is it? You are ill?" - -I could hardly more than whisper. In a low tone I said: - -"He is dead." - -"Dearest!" - -"Drowned!" - -At first she thought I meant a member of my Familey. But when she -understood she looked serious. - -"You are too intence, Bab," she said solemly. "You suffer too much. -You are wearing yourself out." - -"There is no other way," I replied in broken tones. - -Jane went to the Mirror and looked at herself. Then she -turned to me. - -"Others don't do it." - -"I must work out my own Salvation, Jane," I observed firmly. But -she had roused me from my apathy, and I went into Sis's room, -returning with a box of candy some one had sent her. "I must feel, -Jane, or I cannot write." - -"Pooh! Loads of writers get fat on it. Why don't you try Comedy? -It pays well." - -"Oh--MONEY!" I said, in a disgusted tone. - -"Your FORTE, of course, is Love," she said. "Probably that's -because you've had so much experience." Owing to certain reasons it -is generaly supposed that I have experienced the gentle Passion. -But not so, alas! "Bab," Jane said, suddenly, "I have been your -friend for a long time. I have never betrayed you. You can trust me -with your Life. Why don't you tell me?" - -"Tell you what?" - -"Somthing has happened. I see it in your eyes. No girl who is happy -and has not a tradgic story stays at home shut up at a messy desk -when everyone is out at the Club playing tennis. Don't talk to me -about a Career. A girl's Career is a man and nothing else. And -especialy after last winter, Bab. Is--is it the same one?" - -Here I made my fatal error. I should have said at once that there -was no one, just as there had been no one last Winter. But she -looked so intence, sitting there, and after all, why should I not -have an amorus experience? I am not ugly, and can dance well, -although inclined to lead because of dansing with other girls all -winter at school. So I lay back on my pillow and stared at the ceiling. - -"No. It is not the same man." - -"What is he like? Bab, I'm so excited I can't sit still." - -"It--it hurts to talk about him," I observed faintly. - -Now I intended to let it go at that, and should have, had not Jane -kept on asking Questions. Because I had had a good lesson the -winter before, and did not intend to decieve again. And this I will -say--I realy told Jane Raleigh nothing. She jumped to her own -conclusions. And as for her people saying she cannot chum with me -any more, I will only say this: If Jane Raleigh smokes she did not -learn it from me. - -Well, I had gone as far as I meant to. I was not realy in love with -anyone, although I liked Carter Brooks, and would posibly have -loved him with all the depth of my Nature if Sis had not kept an -eye on me most of the time. However---- - -Jane seemed to be expecting somthing, and I tried to think of some -way to satisfy her and not make any trouble. And then I thought of -the Suitcase. So I locked the door and made her promise not to -tell, and got the whole thing out of the Toy Closet. - -"Wha--what is it?" asked Jane. - -I said nothing, but opened it all up. The Flask was gone, but the -rest was there, and Carter's box too. Jane leaned down and lifted -the trowsers. and poked around somewhat. Then she straitened and said: - -"You have run away and got married, Bab." - -"Jane!" - -She looked at me peircingly. - -"Don't lie to me," she said accusingly. "Or else what are you doing -with a man's whole Outfit, including his dirty coller? Bab, I just -can't bare it." - -Well, I saw that I had gone to far, and was about to tell Jane the -truth when I heard the sowing Woman in the hall. I had all I could -do to get the things put away, and with Jane looking like death I -had to stand there and be fitted for one of Sis's chiffon frocks, -with the low neck filled in with net. - -"You must remember, Miss Bab," said the human Pin cushon, "that you -are still a very young girl, and not out yet." - -Jane got up off the bed suddenly. - -"I--I guess I'll go, Bab," she said. "I don't feel very well." - -As she went out she stopped in the Doorway and crossed her Heart, -meaning that she would die before she would tell anything. But I -was not comfortable. It is not a pleasant thought that your best -friend considers you married and gone beyond recall, when in truth -you are not, or even thinking about it, except in idle moments. - -The seen now changes. Life is nothing but such changes. No sooner -do we alight on one Branch, and begin to sip the honey from it, but -we are taken up and carried elsewhere, perhaps to the Mountains or -to the Sea-shore, and there left to make new friends and find new -methods of Enjoyment. - -The flight--or journey--was in itself an anxious time. For on my -otherwise clear conscience rested the weight of that strange -Suitcase. Fortunately Hannah was so busy that I was left to pack my -belongings myself, and thus for a time my gilty secret was safe. I -put my things in on top of the masculine articles, not daring to -leave any of them in the closet, owing to house-cleaning, which is -always done before our return in the fall. - -On the train I had a very unpleasant experience, due to Sis opening -my Suitcase to look for a magazine, and drawing out a soiled -gentleman's coller. She gave me a very peircing Glance, but said -nothing and at the next opportunity I threw it out of a window, -concealed in a newspaper. - -We now approach the Catastrofe. My book on playwriting divides -plays into Introduction, Development, Crisis, Denouement and -Catastrofe. And so one may devide life. In my case the Cinder -proved the Introduction, as there was none other. I consider that -the Suitcase was the Development, my showing it to Jane Raleigh was -the Crisis, and the Denouement or Catastrofe occured later on. - -Let us then procede to the Catastrofe. - -Jane Raleigh came to see me off at the train. Her Familey was -coming the next day. And instead of Flowers, she put a small bundel -into my hands. "Keep it hiden, Bab," she said, "and tear up the card." - -I looked when I got a chance, and she had crocheted me a wash -cloth, with a pink edge. "For your linen Chest," the card said, -"and I'm doing a bath towle to match." - -I tore up the Card, but I put the wash cloth with the other things -I was trying to hide, because it is bad luck to throw a Gift away. -But I hoped, as I seemed to be getting more things to conceal all -the time, that she would make me a small bath towle, and not the -sort as big as a bed spread. - -Father went with us to get us settled, and we had a long talk while -mother and Sis made out lists for Dinners and so forth. - -"Look here, Bab," he said, "somthing's wrong with you. I seem to -have lost my only boy, and have got instead a sort of tear-y young -person I don't recognize." - -"I'm growing up, father" I said. I did not mean to rebuke him, but -ye gods! Was I the only one to see that I was no longer a Child? - -"Somtimes I think you are not very happy with us." - -"Happy?" I pondered. "Well, after all, what is happiness?" - -He took a spell of coughing then, and when it was over he put his -arms around me and was quite afectionate. - -"What a queer little rat it is!" he said. - -I only repeat this to show how even my father, with all his -afection and good qualities, did not understand and never would -understand. My Heart was full of a longing to be understood. I -wanted to tell him my yearnings for better things, my aspirations -to make my life a great and glorious thing. AND HE DID NOT UNDERSTAND. - -He gave me five dollars instead. Think of the Tradgedy of it! - -As we went along, and he pulled my ear and finaly went asleep with -a hand on my shoulder, the bareness of my Life came to me. I shook -with sobs. And outside somewhere Sis and mother made Dinner lists. -Then and there I made up my mind to work hard and acheive, to -become great and powerful, to write things that would ring the -Hearts of men--and women, to, of course--and to come back to them -some day, famous and beautiful, and when they sued for my love, to -be kind and hauty, but cold. I felt that I would always be cold, -although gracious. - -I decided then to be a writer of plays first, and then later on to -act in them. I would thus be able to say what came into my head, as -it was my own play. Also to arrange the seens so as to wear a -variety of gowns, including evening things. I spent the rest of the -afternoon manacuring my nails in our state room. - -Well, we got there at last. It was a large house, but everything was -to thin about it. The School will understand this, the same being the -condition of the new Freshman dormitory. The walls were to thin, and -so were the floors. The Doors shivered in the wind, and palpatated -if you slamed them. Also you could hear every Sound everywhere. - -I looked around me in dispair. Where, oh where, was I to find my -cherished solatude? Where? - -On account of Hannah hating a new place, and considering the house -an insult to the Servants, especialy only one bathroom for the lot -of them, she let me unpack alone, and so far I was safe. But where -was I to work? Fate settled that for me however. - - There is no armour against fate; - Death lays his icy hand on Kings. - - J. Shirley; Dirge. - - -Previously, however, mother and I had had a talk. She sailed into -my room one evening, dressed for dinner, and found me in my ROBE DE -NUIT, curled up in the window seat admiring the view of the ocean. - -"Well!" she said. "Is this the way you intend going to dinner?" - -"I do not care for any dinner," I replied. Then, seeing she did not -understand, I said coldly. "How can I care for food, mother, when -the Sea looks like a dying ople?" - -"Dying pussycat!" mother said, in a very nasty way. "I don't know -what has come over you, Barbara. You used to be a normle Child, and -there was some accounting for what you were going to do. But now! -Take off that nightgown, and I'll have Tanney hold off dinner for -half an hour." - -Tanney was the butler who had taken Patrick's place. - -"If you insist," I said coldly. "But I shall not eat." - -"Why not?" - -"You wouldn't understand, mother." - -"Oh, I wouldn't? Well, suppose I try," she said, and sat down. "I -am not very intellagent, but if you put it clearly I may grasp it. -Perhaps you'd better speak slowly, also." - -So, sitting there in my room, while the sea throbed in tireless -beats against the shore, while the light faded and the stars -issued, one by one, like a rash on the Face of the sky, I told -mother of my dreams. I intended, I said, to write Life as it realy -is, and not as supposed to be. - -"It may in places be, ugly" I said, "but Truth is my banner. The -Truth is never ugly, because it is real. It is, for instance, not -ugly if a man is in love with the wife of another, if it is real -love, and not the passing fansy of a moment." - -Mother opened her mouth, but did not say anything. - -"There was a time," I said, "when I longed for things that now have -no value whatever to me. I cared for clothes and even for the -attentions of the Other Sex. But that has passed away, mother. I -have now no thought but for my Career." - -I watched her face, and soon the dreadfull understanding came to -me. She, to, did not understand. My literary Aspirations were as -nothing to her! - -Oh, the bitterness of that moment. My mother, who had cared for me -as a child, and obeyed my slightest wish, no longer understood me. -And sadest of all, there was no way out. None. Once, in my Youth, -I had beleived that I was not the child of my parents at all, but -an adopted one--perhaps of rank and kept out of my inheritance by -those who had selfish motives. But now I knew that I had no rank or -Inheritance, save what I should carve out for myself. There was no -way out. None. - -Mother rose slowly, stareing at me with perfectly fixed and glassy -Eyes. - -"I am absolutely sure," she said, "that you are on the edge of -somthing. It may be tiphoid, or it may be an elopement. But one -thing is certain. You are not normle." - -With this she left me to my Thoughts. But she did not neglect me. -Sis came up after Dinner, and I saw mother's fine hand in that. -Although not hungry in the usual sense of the word, I had begun to -grow rather empty, and was nibling out of a box of Chocolates when -Sis came. - -She got very little out of me. To one with softness and tenderness -I would have told all, but Sis is not that sort. And at last she -showed her clause. - -"Don't fool yourself for a minute," she said. "This literary pose -has not fooled anybody. Either you're doing it to apear Interesting, -or you've done somthing you're scared about. Which is it?" - -I refused to reply. - -"Because if it's the first, and you're trying to look literary, you -are going about it wrong," she said. "Real Literary People don't go -round mooning and talking about the ople sea." - -I saw mother had been talking, and I drew myself up. - -"They look and act like other people," said Leila, going to the -bureau and spilling Powder all over the place. "Look at Beecher." - -"Beecher!" I cried, with a thrill that started inside my elbows. (I -have read this to one or two of the girls, and they say there is no -such thrill. But not all people act alike under the influence of -emotion, and mine is in my Arms, as stated.) - -"The playwright," Sis said. "He's staying next door. And if he does -any languishing it is not by himself." - -There may be some who have for a long time had an Ideal, but -without hoping ever to meet him, and then suddenly learning that he -is nearby, with indeed but a wall or two between, can be calm and -cool. But I am not like that. Although long supression has taught -me to disemble at times, where my Heart is concerned I am powerless. - -For it was at last my heart that was touched. I, who had scorned -the Other Sex and felt that I was born cold and always would be -cold, that day I discovered the truth. Reginald Beecher was my ideal. -I had never spoken to him, nor indeed seen him, except for his -pictures. But the very mention of his name brought a lump to my Throat. - -Feeling better imediately, I got Sis out of the room and coaxed -Hannah to bring me some dinner. While she was sneaking it out of -the Pantrey I was dressing, and soon, as a new being, I was out on -the stone bench at the foot of the lawn, gazing with wrapt -eyes at the sea. - -But Fate was against me. Eddie Perkins saw me there and came over. -He had but recently been put in long trowsers, and those not his -best ones but only white flannels. He was never sure of his -garters, and was always looking to see if his socks were coming -down. Well, he came over just as I was sure I saw Reginald Beecher -next door on the veranda, and made himself a nusance right away, -trying all sorts of kid tricks, such as snaping a rubber Band at -me, and pulling out Hairpins. - -But I felt that I must talk to somone. So I said: - -"Eddie, if you had your choice of love or a Career, which would it be?" - -"Why not both," he said, hiching the rubber band onto one of his -front teeth and playing on it. "Niether ought to take up all a -fellow's time. Say, listen to this! Talk about a eukelele!" - -"A woman can never have both." - -He played a while, struming with one finger until the hand sliped -off and stung him on the lip. - -"Once," I said, "I dreamed of a Career. But I beleive love's the -most important." - -Well, I shall pass lightly over what followed. Why is it that a -girl cannot speak of Love without every member of the Other Sex -present, no matter how young, thinking it is he? And as for mother -maintaining that I kissed that wreched Child, and they saw me from -the drawing-room, it is not true and never was true. It was but one -more Misunderstanding which convinced the Familey that I was -carrying on all manner of afairs. - -Carter Brooks had arrived that day, and was staying at the Perkins' -cottage. I got rid of the Perkins' baby, as his Nose was -bleeding--but I had not slaped him hard at all, and felt little or -no compunction--when I heard Carter coming down the walk. He had -called to see Leila, but she had gone to a beech dance and left him -alone. He never paid any attention to me when she was around, and -I recieved him cooly. - -"Hello!" he said. - -"Well?" I replied. - -"Is that the way you greet me, Bab?" - -"It's the way I would greet most any Left-over," I said. "I eat -hash at school, but I don't have to pretend to like it." - -"I came to see YOU." - -"How youthfull of you!" I replied, in stinging tones. - -He sat down on a Bench and stared at me. - -"What's got into you lately?" he said. "Just as you're geting to be -the prettiest girl around, and I'm strong for you, you--you turn -into a regular Rattlesnake." - -The kindness of his tone upset me considerably, to who so few kind -Words had come recently. I am compeled to confess that I wept, -although I had not expected to, and indeed shed few tears, although -bitter ones. - -How could I posibly know that the chaste Salute of Eddie Perkins -and my head on Carter Brooks' shoulder were both plainly visable -against the rising moon? But this was the Case, especialy from the -house next door. - -But I digress. - -Suddenly Carter held me off and shook me somewhat. - -"Sit up here and tell me about it," he said. "I'm geting more -scared every minute. You are such an impulsive little Beast, and -you turn the fellows' heads so--look here, is Jane Raleigh lying, -or did you run away and get married to somone?" - -I am aware that I should have said, then and there, No. But it -seemed a shame to spoil Things just as they were geting -interesting. So I said, through my tears: - -"Nobody understands me. Nobody. And I'm so lonely." - -"And of course you haven't run away with anyone, have you?" - -"Not--exactly." - -"Bless you, Bab!" he said. And I might as well say that he kissed -me, because he did, although unexpectedly. Sombody just then moved -a Chair on the porch next door and coughed rather loudly, so Carter -drew a long breath and got up. - -"There's somthing about you lately, Bab, that I don't understand," -he said. "You--you're mysterious. That's the word. In a couple of -Years you'll be the real thing." - -"Come and see me then," I said in a demure manner. And he went away. - -So I sat on my Bench and looked at the sea and dreamed. It seemed -to me that Centuries must have passed since I was a light-hearted -girl, running up and down that beech, paddling, and so forth, with -no thought of the future farther away than my next meal. - -Once I lived to eat. Now I merely ate to live, and hardly that. The -fires of Genius must be fed, but no more. - -Sitting there, I suddenly made a discovery. The boat house was near -me, and I realize that upstairs, above the Bath-houses, et cetera, -there must be a room or two. The very thought intriged me (a new -word for interest, but coming into use, and sounding well). - -Solatude--how I craved it for my work. And here it was, or would be -when I had got the Place fixed up. True, the next door boat-house -was close, but a boat-house is a quiet place, generaly, and I knew -that nowhere, aside from the dessert, is there perfect Silence. - -I investagated at once, but found the place locked and the boatman -gone. However, there was a latice, and I climbed up that and got -in. I had a Fright there, as it seemed to be full of people, but I -soon saw it was only the Familey bathing suits hung up to dry. -Aside from the odor of drying things it was a fine study, and I -decided to take a small table there, and the various tools of my -Profession. - -Climbing down, however, I had a surprise. For a man was just below, -and I nearly put my foot on his shoulder in the darkness. - -"Hello!" he said. "So it's YOU." - -I was quite speachless. It was Mr. Beecher himself, in his dinner -clothes and bareheaded. - -Oh flutering Heart, be still. Oh Pen, move steadily. OH TEMPORA O MORES! - -"Let me down," I said. I was still hanging to the latice. - -"In a moment," he said. "I have an idea that the instant I do -you'll vanish. And I have somthing to tell you." - -I could hardly beleive my ears. - -"You see," he went on, "I think you must move that Bench." - -"Bench?" - -"You seem to be so very popular," he Said." And of course I'm only -a transient and don't matter. But some evening one of the admirers -may be on the Patten's porch, while another is with you on the -bench. And--the Moon rises beyond it." - -I was silent with horor. So that was what he thought of me. Like -all the others, he, to, did not understand. He considered me a Flirt, -when my only Thoughts were serious ones, of imortality and so on. - -"You'd better come down now," he said. "I was afraid to warn you -until I saw you climbing the latice. Then I knew you were still -young enough to take a friendly word of Advise." - -I got down then and stood before him. He was magnifacent. Is there -anything more beautiful than a tall man with a gleaming expance of -dress shirt? I think not. - -But he was staring at me. - -"Look here," he said. "I'm afraid I've made a mistake after all. I -thought you were a little girl." - -"That needn't worry you. Everybody does," I replied. "I'm -seventeen, but I shall be a mere Child until I come out." - -"Oh!" he said. - -"One day I am a Child in the nursery," I said. "And the next I'm -grown up and ready to be sold to the highest Bider." - -"I beg your pardon, I----" - -"But I am as grown up now as I will ever be," I said. "And indeed -more so. I think a great deal now, because I have plenty of Time. -But my sister never thinks at all. She is to busy." - -"Suppose we sit on the Bench. The moon is to high to be a menace, -and besides, I am not dangerous. Now, what do you think about?" - -"About Life, mostly. But of course there is Death, which is -beautiful but cold. And--one always thinks of Love, doesn't one?" - -"Does one?" he asked. I could see he was much interested. As for -me, I dared not consider whom it was who sat beside me, almost -touching. That way lay madness. - -"Don't you ever," he said, "reflect on just ordinary things, like -Clothes and so forth?" - -I shruged my shoulders. - -"I don't get enough new clothes to worry about. Mostly I think -of my Work." - -"Work?" - -"I am a writer" I said in a low, ernest tone. - -"No! How--how amazing. What do you write?" - -"I'm on a play now." - -"A Comedy?" - -"No. A Tradgedy. How can I write a Comedy when a play must always -end in a catastrofe? The book says all plays end in Crisis, -Denouement and Catastrofe." - -"I can't beleive it," he said. "But, to tell you a Secret, I never -read any books about Plays." - -"We are not all gifted from berth, as you are," I observed, not to -merely please him, but because I considered it the simple Truth. - -He pulled out his watch and looked at it in the moonlight. - -"All this reminds me," he said, "that I have promised to go to work -tonight. But this is so--er--thrilling that I guess the work can -wait. Well--now go on." - -Oh, the Joy of that night! How can I describe it? To be at last in -the company of one who understood, who--as he himself had said in -"Her Soul"--spoke my own languidge! Except for the occasional -mosquitoe, there was no sound save the turgescent sea and his Voice. - -Often since that time I have sat and listened to conversation. How -flat it sounds to listen to father prozing about Gold, or Sis about -Clothes, or even to the young men who come to call, and always talk -about themselves. - -We were at last interupted in a strange manner. Mr. Patten came -down their walk and crossed to us, walking very fast. He stopped -right in front of us and said: - -"Look here, Reg, this is about all I can stand." - -"Oh, go away, and sing, or do somthing," said Mr. Beecher sharply. - -"You gave me your word of Honor" said the Patten man. "I can only -remind you of that. Also of the expence I'm incuring, and all the -rest of it. I've shown all sorts of patience, but this is the limit." - -He turned on his Heal, but came back for a last word or two. - -"Now see here," he said, "we have everything fixed the way you said -You wanted it. And I'll give you ten minutes. That's all." - -He stocked away, and Mr. Beecher looked at me. - -"Ten minutes of Heaven," he said, "and then perdetion with that -bunch. Look here," he said, "I--I'm awfully interested in what you -are telling me. Let's cut off up the beech and talk." - -Oh night of Nights! Oh moon of Moons! - -Our talk was strictly business. He asked me my Plot, and although -I had been warned not to do so, even to David Belasco, I gave it to -him fully. And even now, when all is over, I am not sorry. Let him -use it if he will. I can think of plenty of Plots. - -The real tradgedy is that we met father. He had been ordered to -give up smoking, and I considered had done so, mother feeling that -I should be encouraged in leaving off cigarettes. So when I saw the -cigar I was sure it was not father. It proved to be, however, and -although he passed with nothing worse than a Glare, I knew I was in -more trouble. - -At last we reached the Bench again, and I said good night. Our -relations continued business-like to the last. He said: - -"Good night, little authoress, and let's have some more talks." - -"I'm afraid I've board you," I said. - -"Board me!" he said. "I haven't spent such an evening for years!" - -The Familey acted perfectly absurd about it. Seeing that they were -going to make a fuss, I refused to say with whom I had been -walking. You'd have thought I had committed a crime. - -"It has come to this, Barbara," mother said, pacing the floor. "You -cannot be trusted out of our sight. Where do you meet all these men? -If this is how things are now, what will it be when given your Liberty?" - -Well, it is to painful to record. I was told not to leave the place -for three days, although allowed the boat-house. And of course Sis -had to chime in that she'd heard a roomer I had run away and got -married, and although of course she knew it wasn't true, owing to -no time to do so, still where there was Smoke there was Fire. - -But I felt that their confidence in me was going, and that night, after -all were in the Land of Dreams, I took that wreched suit of clothes and -so on to the boathouse, and hid them in the rafters upstairs. - -I come now to the strange Event of the next day, and its sequel. - -The Patten place and ours are close together, and no other house -near. Mother had been very cool about the Pattens, owing to nobody -knowing them that we knew. Although I must say they had the most -interesting people all the time, and Sis was crazy to call and meet -some of them. - -Jane came that day to visit her aunt, and she ran down to see me -first thing. - -"Come and have a ride," she said. "I've got the Runabout, and after -that we'll bathe and have a real time." - -But I shook my head. - -"I'm a prisoner, Jane," I said. - -"Honestly! Is it the Play, or somthing else?" - -"Somthing else, Jane," I said. "I can tell you nothing more. I am -simply in trouble, as usual." - -"But why make you a prisoner, unless----" She stopped suddenly and -stared at me. - -"He has claimed you!" she said. "He is here, somwhere about this -Place, and now, having had time to think it over, you do not Want -to go to him. Don't deny it. I see it in your face. Oh, Bab, my -heart aches for you." - -It sounded so like a play that I kept it up. Alas, with what results! - -"What else can I do, Jane?" I said. - -"You can refuse, if you do not love him. Oh Bab, I did not say it -before, thinking you loved him. But no man who wears clothes like -those could ever win my heart. At least, not permanently." - -Well, she did most of the talking. She had finished the bath towle, -which was a large size, after all, and monogramed, and she made me -promise never to let my husband use it. When she went away she left -it with me, and I carried it out and put it on the rafters, with -the other things--I seemed to be getting more to hide every day. - -Things went all wrong the next day. Sis was in a bad temper, and as -much as said I was flirting with Carter Brooks, although she never -intends to marry him herself, owing to his not having money and -never having asked her. - -I spent the morning in fixing up a Studio in the boat-house, and -felt better by noon. I took two boards on trestles and made a desk, -and brought a Dictionery and some pens and ink out. I use a -Dictionery because now and then I am uncertain how to spell a word. - -Events now moved swiftly and terrably. I did not do much work, -being exhausted by my efforts to fix up the studio, and besides, -feeling that nothing much was worth while when one's Familey did -not and never would understand. At eleven o'clock Sis and Carter -and Jane and some others went in bathing from our dock. Jane called -up to me, but I pretended not to hear. They had a good time judging -by the noise, although I should think Jane would cover her arms and -neck in the water, being very thin. Legs one can do nothing with, -although I should think stripes going around would help. But arms -can have sleaves. - -However--the people next door went in to, and I thrilled to the -core when Mr. Beecher left the bath-house and went down to the -beech. What a physic! What shoulders, all brown and muscular! And -to think that, strong as they were, they wrote the tender Love -seens of his plays. Strong and tender--what descriptive words they -are! It was then that I saw he had been vacinated twice. - -To resume. All the Pattens went in, and a new girl with them, in a -One-peace Suit. I do not deny that she was pretty. I only say that she -was not modest, and that the way she stood on the Patten's dock and -pozed for Mr. Beecher's benafit was unecessary and well, not respectable. - -She was nothing to me, nor I to her. But I watched her closely. I -confess that I was interested in Mr. Beecher. Why not? He was a -Public Character, and entitled to respect. Nay, even to love. But -I maintain and will to my dying day, that such love is diferent from -that ordinaraly born to the Other Sex, and a thing to be proud of. - -Well, I was seeing a drama and did not even know it. After the rest -had gone, Mr. Patten came to the door into Mr. Beecher's room in -the bath-house--they are all in a row, with doors opening on the -sand--and he had a box in his hand. He looked around, and no one -was looking except me, and he did not see me. He looked very Feirce -and Glum, and shortly after he carried in a chair and a folding card -table. I thought this was very strange, but imagine how I felt when he -came out carrying Mr. Beecher's clothes! He brought them all, going -on his tiptoes and watching every minute. I felt like screaming. - -However, I considered that it was a practicle Joke, and I am no -spoil sport. So I sat still and waited. They staid in the water a -long time, and the girl with the Figure was always crawling out on -the dock and then diving in to show off. Leila and the rest got -sick of her actions and came in to Lunch. They called up to me, but -I said I was not hungry. - -"I don't know what's come over Bab," I heard Sis say to Carter -Brooks. "She's crazy, I think." - -"She's seventeen," he said. "That's all. They get over it mostly, -but she has it hard." - -I lothed him. - -Pretty soon the other crowd came up, and I could see every one knew -the joke but Mr. Beecher. They all scuttled into their doorways, -and Mr. Patten waited till Mr. Beecher was inside and had thrown out -the shirt of his bathing Suit. Then he locked the door from the outside. - -There was a silence for a minute. Then Mr. Beecher said in a -terrable voice. - -"So that's the Game, is it?" - -"Now listen, Reg," Mr. Patten said, in a soothing voice. "I've -tried everything but Force, and now I'm driven to that. I've got to -have that third Act. The company's got the first two acts well -under way, and I'm getting wires about every hour. I've got to have -that script." - -"You go to Hell!" said Mr. Beecher. You could hear him plainly -through the window, high up in the wall. And although I do not -approve of an oath, there are times when it eases the tortured Soul. - -"Now be reasonable, Reg," Mr. Patten pleaded. "I've put a fortune -in this thing, and you're lying down on the job. You could do it in -four hours if you'd put your mind to it." - -There was no anser to this. And he went on: - -"I'll send out food or anything. But nothing to drink. There's -Champane on the ice for you when you've finished, however. And -you'll find pens and ink and paper on the table." - -The anser to this was Mr. Beecher's full weight against the door. -But it held, even against the full force of his fine physic. - -"Even if you do break it open," Mr. Patten said, "you can't go very -far the way you are. Now be a good fellow, and let's get this thing done. -It's for your good as well as mine. You'll make a Fortune out of it." - -Then he went into his own door, and soon came out, looking like a -gentleman, unless one knew, as I did, that he was a Whited Sepulcher. - -How long I sat there, paralized with emotion, I do not know. Hannah -came out and roused me from my Trance of grief. She is a kindly -soul, although to afraid of mother to be helpful. - -"Come in like a good girl, Miss Bab," she said. "There's that fruit -salad that cook prides herself on, and I'll ask her to brown a bit -of sweetbread for you." - -"Hannah," I said in a low voice, "there is a Crime being committed -in this neighborhood, and you talk to me of food." - -"Good gracious, Miss Bab!" - -"I cannot tell you any more than that, Hannah," I said gently, -"because it is only being done now, and I cannot make up my Mind -about it. But of course I do not want any food." - -As I say, I was perfectly gentle with her, and I do not understand -why she burst into tears and went away. - -I sat and thought it all over. I could not leave, under the -circumstances. But yet, what was I to do? It was hardly a Police -matter, being between friends, as one may say, and yet I simply -could not bare to leave my Ideal there in that damp bath-house -without either food or, as one may say, raiment. - -About the middle of the afternoon it occurred to me to try to find -a key for the lock of the bath-house. I therfore left my Studio and -proceded to the house. I passed close by the fatal building, but -there was no sound from it. - -I found a number of trunk-keys in a drawer in the library, and was -about to escape with them, when father came in. He gave me a long -look, and said: - -"Bee still buzzing?" - -I had hoped for some understanding from him, but my Spirits fell at -this speach. - -"I am still working, father," I said, in a firm if nervous tone. "I -am not doing as good work as I would if things were diferent, -but--I am at least content, if not happy." - -He stared at me, and then came over to me. - -"Put out your tongue," he said. - -Even against this crowning infamey I was silent. - -"That's all right," he said. "Now see here, Chicken, get into your -riding togs and we'll order the horses. I don't intend to let this -play-acting upset your health." - -But I refused. "Unless, of course, you insist," I finished. He only -shook his head, however, and left the room. I felt that I had lost -my Last Friend. - -I did not try the keys myself, but instead stood off a short -distance and through them through the window. I learned later that -they struck Mr. Beecher on the head. Not knowing, of course, that -I had flung them, and that my reason was pure Friendliness and -Idealizm, he through them out again with a violent exclamation. -They fell at my feet, and lay there, useless, regected, tradgic. - -At last I summoned courage to speak. - -"Can't I do somthing to help?" I said, in a quaking voice, to the window. - -There was no anser, but I could hear a pen scraching on paper. - -"I do so want to help you," I said, in a louder tone. - -"Go, away" said his voice, rather abstracted than angry. - -"May I try the keys?" I asked. Be still, my Heart! For the -scraching had ceased. - -"Who's that?" asked the beloved voice. I say `beloved' because an -Ideal is always beloved. The voice was beloved, but sharp. - -"It's me." - -I heard him mutter somthing, and I think he came to the Door. - -"Look here," he said. "Go away. Do you understand? I want to work. -And don't come near here again until seven o'clock." - -"Very well," I said faintly. - -"And then come without fail," he said. - -"Yes, Mr. Beecher," I replied. How commanding he was! Strong but tender! - -"And if anyone comes around making a noise, before that, you shoot -them for me, will you?" - -"SHOOT them?" - -"Drive them off, or use a Bean-shooter. Anything. But don't yell at -them. It distracts me." - -It was a Sacred trust. I, and only I, stood between him and his MAGNUM -OPUM. I sat down on the steps of our bath-house, and took up my vigel. - -It was about five o'clock when I heard Jane approaching. I knew it -was Jane, because she always wears tight shoes, and limps when -unobserved. Although having the reputation of the smallest foot of -any girl in our set in the city, I prefer Comfort and Ease, -unhampered by heals--French or otherwise. No man will ever marry a -girl because she wears a small shoe, and catches her heals in holes -in the Boardwalk, and has to soak her feet at night before she can -sleep. However---- - -Jane came on, and found me croutched on the doorstep, in a lowly -attatude, and holding my finger to my lips. - -She stopped and stared at me. - -"Hello," she said. "What do you think you are? A Statue?" - -"Hush, Jane," I said, in a low tone. "I can only ask you to be -quiet and speak in Whispers. I cannot give the reason." - -"Good heavens!" she whispered. "What has happened, Bab?" - -"It is happening now, but I cannot explain." - -"WHAT is happening?" - -"Jane," I whispered, ernestly, "you have known me a long time and -I have always been Trustworthy, have I not?" - -She nodded. She is never exactly pretty, and now she had opened her -mouth and forgot to close it. - -"Then ask No Questions. Trust me, as I am trusting you." It seemed -to me that Mr. Beecher through his pen at the door, and began to -pace the bath-house. Owing of course to his being in his bare feet, -I was not certain. Jane heard somthing, to, for she clutched my arm. - -"Bab," she said, in intence tones, "if you don't explain I shall -lose my mind. I feel now that I am going to shreik." - -She looked at me searchingly. - -"Sombody is a Prisoner. That's all." - -It was the truth, was it not? And was there any reasons for Jane -Raleigh to jump to conclusions as she did, and even to repeat later -in Public that I had told her that my lover had come for me, and -that father had locked him up to prevent my running away with him, -imuring him in the Patten's bath-house? Certainly not. - -Just then I saw the boatman coming who looks after our motor boat, -and I tiptoed to him and asked him to go away, and not to come back -unless he had quieter boats and would not whistel. He acted very -ugly about it, I must say, but he went. - -When I came back, Jane was sitting thinking, with her forhead -all puckered. - -"What I don't understand, Bab," she said, "is, why no noise?" - -"Because he is writing," I explained. "Although his clothing has -been taken away, he is writing. I don't think I told you, Jane, but -that is his business. He is a Writer. And if I tell you his name -you will faint with surprise." - -She looked at me searchingly. - -"Locked up--and writing, and his clothing gone! What's he writing, -Bab? His Will?" - -"He is doing his duty to the end, Jane," I said softly. "He is -writing the last Act of a Play. The Company is rehearsing the first -two Acts, and he has to get this one ready, though the Heavens fall." - -But to my surprise, she got up and said to me, in a firm voice: - -"Either you are crazy, Barbara Archibald, or you think I am. You've -been stuffing me for about a week, and I don't beleive a Word of -it. And you'll apologize to me or I'll never speak to you again." - -She said this loudly, and then went away, And Mr. Beecher said, -through the door. - -"What the Devil's the row about?" - -Perhaps my nerves were going, or possably it was no luncheon and -probably no dinner. But I said, just as if he had been an ordinary -person: - -"Go on and write and get through. I can't stew on these steps all day." - -"I thought you were an amiable Child." - -"I'm not amiable and I'm not a Child." - -"Don't spoil your pretty face with frowns." - -"It's MY face. And you can't see it anyhow," I replied, venting in -femanine fashion, my anger at Jane on the nearest object. - -"Look here," he said, through the door, "you've been my good Angel. -I'm doing more work than I've done in two months, although it was -a dirty, low-down way to make me do it. You're not going back on me -now, are you?" - -Well, I was mollafied, as who would not be? So I said: - -"Well?" - -"What did Patten do with my clothes?" - -"He took them with him." He was silent, except for a muttered word. - -"You might throw those Keys back again," he said. "Let me know -first, however. You're the most acurate Thrower I've ever seen." - -So I through them through the window and I beleive hit the ink -bottle. But no matter. And he tried them, but none availed. - -So he gave up, and went back to Work, having saved enough ink to -finish with. But a few minutes later he called to me again, and I -moved to the Doorstep, where I sat listening, while aparently -admiring the sea. He explained that having been thus forced, he had -almost finished the last Act, and it was a corker. And he said if -he had his clothes and some money, and a key to get out, he'd go -right back to Town with it and put it in rehearsle. And at the same -time he would give the Pattens something to worry about over night. -Because, play or no play, it was a Rotten thing to lock a man in a -bath-house and take his clothes away. - -"But of course I can't get my clothes," he said. "They'll take -cussed good care of that. And there's the Key too. We're up against -it, Little Sister." - -Although excited by his calling me thus, I retained my faculties, -and said: - -"I have a suit of Clothes you can have." - -"Thanks awfully," he said. "But from the slight acquaintance we -have had, I don't beleive they would fit me." - -"Gentleman's Clothes," I said fridgidly. - -"You have?" - -"In my Studio," I said. "I can bring them, if you like. They look -quite good, although Creased." - -"You know" he said, after a moment's silence, "I can't quite -beleive this is realy happening to me! Go and bring the suit of -clothes, and--you don't happen to have a cigar, I suppose,?" - -"I have a large box of Cigarettes." - -"It is true," I heard him say through the door. "It is all true. I -am here, locked in. The Play is almost done. And a very young lady -on the doorstep is offering me a suit of Clothes and Tobaco. I -pinch myself. I am awake." - -Alas! Mingled with my joy at serving my Ideal there was also greif. -My idle had feet of clay. He was a slave, like the rest of us, to -his body. He required clothes and tobaco. I felt that, before long, -he might even ask for an apple, or something to stay the pangs of -hunger. This I felt I could not bare. - -Perhaps I would better pass over quickly the events of the next -hour. I got the suit and the cigarettes, and even Jane's bath -towle, and through them in to him. Also I beleive he took a shower, -as I heard the water running, At about seven o'clock he said he had -finished the play. He put on the Clothes which he observed almost -fitted him, although gayer than he usually wore, and said that if -I would give him a hair pin he thought he could pick the Lock. But -he did not succeed. - -Being now dressed, however, he drew a chair to the window and we -talked together. It seemed like a dream that I should be there, on -such intimate terms with a great Playwright, who had just, even if -under compulsion, finished a last Act, I bared my very soul to him, -such as about resembling Julia Marlowe, and no one understanding my -craveing to acheive a Place in the World of Art. We were once -interupted by Hannah looking for me for dinner. But I hid in a -bath-house, and she went away. - -What was Food to me compared with such a Conversation? - -When Hannah had disappeared, he said suddenly: - -"It's rather unusual, isn't it, your having a suit of clothes and -everything in your--er--studio?" - -But I did not explain fully, merely saving that it was a painful story. - -At half past seven I saw mother on the veranda looking for me, and -I ducked out of sight, I was by this time very hungry, although I -did not like to mention the fact, But Mr. Beecher made a -suggestion, which was this: that the Pattens were evadently going -to let him starve until he got through work, and that he would see -them in perdetion before he would be the Butt for their funny -remarks when they freed him. He therfore tried to escape out the -window, but stuck fast, and finaly gave it up. - -At last he said: - -"Look here, you're a curious child, but a nervy one. How'd you like -to see if you can get the Key? If you do we'll go to a hotel and -have a real meal, and we can talk about your Career." - -Although quivering with Terror, I consented. How could I do -otherwise, with such a prospect? For now I began to see that all -other Emotions previously felt were as nothing to this one. I -confess, without shame, that I felt the stiring of the Tender -Passion in my breast. Ah me, that it should have died ere it had -hardly lived! - -"Where is the key?" I asked, in a wrapt but anxious tone. - -He thought a while. - -"Generaly," he said, "it hangs on a nail at the back entry. But the -chances are that Patten took it up to his room this time, for -safety, You'd know it if you saw it. It has some buttons off -sombody's batheing suit tied to it." - -Here it was necessary to hide again, as father came stocking out, -calling me in an angry tone. But shortly afterwards I was on my way -to the Patten's house, on shaking Knees. It was by now twilight, -that beautiful period of Romanse, although the dinner hour also. -Through the dusk I sped, toward what? I knew not. - -The Pattens and the one-peace lady were at dinner, and having a -very good time, in spite of having locked a Guest in the -bath-house. Being used to servants and prowling around, since at -one time when younger I had a habit of taking things from the -pantrey, I was quickly able to see that the Key was not in the -entry. I therfore went around to the front Door and went in, being -prepared, if discovered, to say that somone was in their bath-house -and they ought to know it. But I was not heard among their sounds -of revelry, and was able to proceed upstairs, which I did. - -But not having asked which was Mr. Patten's room, I was at a loss -and almost discovered by a maid who was turning down the beds--much -to early, also, and not allowed in the best houses until -nine-thirty, since otherwise the rooms look undressed and informle. - -I had but Time to duck into another chamber, and from there to a closet. - -I REMAINED IN THAT CLOSET ALL NIGHT. - -I will explain. No sooner had the maid gone than a Woman came into -the room and closed the door. I heard her moving around and I -suddenly felt that she was going to bed, and might get her ROBE DE -NUIT out of the closet. I was petrafied. But it seems, while she -really WAS undressing at that early hour, the maid had laid her -night clothes out, and I was saved. - -Very soon a knock came to the door, and somhody came in, like Mrs. -Patten's voice and said: "You're not going to bed, surely!" - -"I'm going to pretend to have a sick headache," said the other -Person, and I knew it was the One-peace Lady. "He's going to come -back in a frenzey, and he'll take it out on me, unless I'm -prepared." - -"Poor Reggie!" said Mrs. Patten, "To think of him locked in there -alone, and no Clothes or anything. It's too funny for words." - -"You're not married to him." - -My heart stopped beating. Was SHE married to him? She was indeed. -My dream was over. And the worst part of it was that for a married -man I had done without Food or exercise and now stood in a hot -closet in danger of a terrable fuss. - -"No, thank Heaven!" said Mrs. Patten. "But it was the only way to -make him work. He is a lazy dog. But don't worry. We'll feed him -before he sees you. He's always rather tractible after he's fed." - -Were ALL my dreams to go? Would they leave nothing to my shattered -ilusions? Alas, no. - -"Jolly him a little, to," said----can I write it?--Mrs. Beecher. -"Tell him he's the greatest thing in the World. That will help -some. He's vain, you know, awfully vain. I expect he's written a -lot of piffle." - -Had they listened they would have heard a low, dry sob, wrung from -my tortured heart. But Mrs. Beecher had started a vibrater, and my -anguished cry was lost. - -"Well," said Mrs. Patten, "Will has gone down to let him out, I -expect he'll attack him. He's got a vile Temper. I'll sit with you -till he comes back, if you don't mind. I'm feeling nervous." - -It was indeed painful to recall the next half hour. I must tell the -truth however. They discussed us, especialy mother, who had not -called. They said that we thought we were the whole summer Colony, -although every one was afraid of mother's tongue, and nobody would -marry Leila, except Carter Brooks, and he was poor and no -prospects. And that I was an incorrigable, and carried on somthing -gastly, and was going to be put in a convent. I became justly -furious and was about to step out and tell them a few plain Facts, -when sombody hammered at the door and then came in. It was Mr. -Patten. - -"He's gone!" he said. - -"Well, he won't go far, in bathing trunks," said Mrs. Beecher. - -"That's just it. His bathing trunks are there." - -"Well, he won't go far WITHOUT them!" - -"He's gone so far I can't locate him." - -I heard Mrs. Beecher get up. - -"Are you in ernest, Will?" she said. "Do you mean that he has gone -without a Stich of clothes, and can't be found?" - -Mrs. Patten gave a sort of screach. - -"You don't think--oh Will, he's so tempermental. You don't think -he's drowned himself?" - -"No such luck," said Mrs. Beecher, in a cold tone. I hated her for -it. True, he had decieved me. He was not as I had thought him. In -our to conversations he had not mentioned his wife, leaveing me to -beleive him free to love "where he listed," as the poet says. - -"There are a few clues," said Mr. Patten. "He got out by means of -a wire hairpin, for one thing. And he took the manuscript with him, -which he'd hardly have done if he meant to drown himself. Or even -if, as we fear, he had no Pockets. He has smoked a lot of -cigarettes out of a candy box, which I did not supply him, and he -left behind a bath towle that does not, I think, belong to us." - -"I should think he would have worn it," said Mrs. Beecher, in a -scornfull tone. - -"Here's the bath towle," Mr. Patten went on. "You may recognize the -initials. I don't." - -"B. P. A.," said Mrs. Beecher. "Look here, don't they call -that--that fliberty-gibbet next door `Barbara'?" - -"The little devil!" said Mr. Patten, in a raging tone. "She let him -out, and of course he's done no work on the Play or anything. I'd -like to choke her." - -Nobody spoke then, and my heart beat fast and hard. I leave it to -anybody, how they'd like to be shut in a closet and threatened with -a violent Death from without. Would or would they not ever be the -same person afterwards? - -"I'll tell you what I'd do," said the Beecher woman. "I'd climb up -the back of father, next door, and tell him what his little -Daughter has done, Because I know she's mixed up in it, towle or no -towle. Reg is always sappy when they're seventeen. And she's been -looking moon-eyed at him for days." - -Well, the Pattens went away, and Mrs. Beecher manacured her Nails,-- -I could hear her fileing them--and sang around and was not much -concerned, although for all she knew he was in the briney deep, a -corpse. How true it is that "the paths of glory lead but to the grave." - -I got very tired and much hoter, and I sat down on the floor. After -what seemed like hours, Mrs. Patten came back, all breathless, and -she said: - -"The girl's gone to, Clare." - -"What girl?" - -"Next door. If you want Excitement, they've got it. The mother is -in hysterics and there's a party searching the beech for her body, -The truth is, of course, if that towle means anything" - -"That Reg has run away with her, of course," said Mrs. Beecher, in -a resined tone. "I wish he would grow up and learn somthing. He's -becoming a nusance. And when there are so many Interesting People -to run away with, to choose that chit!" - -Yes, she said that, And in my retreat I could but sit and listen, -and of course perspire, which I did freely. Mrs. Patten went away, -after talking about the "scandle" for some time. And I sat and -thought of the beech being searched for my Body, a thought which -filled my Eyes with tears of pity for what might have been, I still -hoped Mrs. Beecher would go to bed, but she did not. Through the -key hole I could see her with a Book, reading, and not caring at -all that Mr. Beecher's body, and mine to, might be washing about in -the cruel Sea, or have eloped to New York. - -I lothed her. - -At last I must have slept, for a bell rang, and there I was still -in the closet, and she was ansering it. - -"Arrested?" she said, "Well, I should think he'd better be, If what -you say about clothing is true.... Well, then--what's he arrested -for?... Oh, kidnaping! Well, if I'm any judge, they ought to arrest -the Archibald girl for kidnaping HIM. No, don't bother me with it -tonight. I'll try to read myself to sleep." - -So this was Marriage! Did she flee to her unjustly acused husband's -side and comfort him? Not she. She went to bed. - -At daylight, being about smotherd, I opened the closet door and -drew a breath of fresh air. Also I looked at her, and she was -asleep, with her hair in patent wavers. Ye gods! - -The wife of Reginald Beecher thus to distort her looks at night! I -could not bare it. - -I averted my eyes, and on my tiptoes made for the Window. - -My sufferings were over. In a short time I had slid down and was -making my way through the dewey morn toward my home. Before the sun -was up, or more than starting, I had climbed to my casement by -means of a wire trellis, and put on my ROBE DE NUIT. But before I -settled to sleep I went to the pantrey and there satisfied the -pangs of nothing since Breakfast the day before. All the lights -seemed to be on, on the lower floor, which I considered wastful of -Tanney, the butler. But being sleepy, gave it no further thought. -And so to bed, as the great English dairy-keeper, Pepys, had said -in his dairy. - -It seemed but a few moments later that I heard a scream, and -opening my eyes, saw Leila in the doorway. She screamed again, and -mother came and stood beside her. Although very drowsy, I saw that -they still wore their dinner clothes. - -They stared as if transfixed, and then mother gave a low moan, and -said to Sis: - -"That unfortunate man has been in Jail all night." - -And Sis said: "Jane Raleigh is crazy. That's all." Then they looked -at me, and mother burst into tears. But Sis said: - -"You little imp! Don't tell me you've been in that bed all night. -I KNOW BETTER." - -I closed my eyes. They were not of the understanding sort, and -never would be. - -"If that's the way you feel I shall tell you nothing," I said wearily. - -"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" mother said, in a slow and dreadful voice. - -Well, I saw then that a part of the Truth must be disclosed, -especialy since she has for some time considered sending me to a -convent, although without cause, and has not done so for fear of my -taking the veil. So I told her this. I said: - -"I spent the night shut in a clothes closet, but where is not my -secret. I cannot tell you." - -"Barbara! You MUST tell me." - -"It is not my secret alone, mother." - -She caught at the foot of the bed. - -"Who was shut with you in that closet?" she demanded in a shaking -voice. "Barbara, there is another wreched Man in all this. It could -not have been Mr. Beecher, because he has been in the Station House -all night." - -I sat up, leaning on one elbow, and looked at her ernestly. - -"Mother" I said, "you have done enough damage, interfering with -Careers--not only mine, but another's imperiled now by not haveing -a last Act. I can tell you no More, except"--here my voice took on -a deep and intence fiber--"that I have done nothing to be ashamed -of, although unconventional." - -Mother put her hands to her Face, and emited a low, despairing cry. - -"Come," Leila said to her, as to a troubled child. "Come, and -Hannah can use the vibrater on your spine." - -So she went, but before she left she said: - -"Barbara, if you will only promise to be a good girl, and give us -a chance to live this Scandle down, I will give you anything you -ask for." - -"Mother!" Sis said, in an angry tone. - -"What can I do, Leila?" mother said. "The girl is atractive, and -probably men will always be following her and making trouble. Think -of last Winter. I know it is Bribery, but it is better than Scandle." - -"I want nothing, mother," I said, in a low, heartstricken tone, -"save to be allowed to live my own life and to have a Career." - -"My Heavens," mother said, "if I hear that word again, I'll go crazy." - -So she went away, and Sis came over and looked down at me. - -"Well!" she said. "What's happened anyhow? Of course you've been up -to some Mischeif, but I don't suppose anybody will ever know the -Truth of it. I was hopeing you'd make it this time and get married, -and stop worrying us." - -"Go away, please, and let me Sleep," I said. "As to getting -married, under no circumstances did I expect to marry him. He has -a Wife already. Personally, I think she's a totle loss. She wears -patent wavers at night, and sleeps with her Mouth open. But who am -I to interfere with the marriage bond? I never have and never will." - -But Sis only gave me a wild look and went away. - - -This, dear readers and schoolmates, is the true story of my meeting -with and parting from Reginald Beecher, the playwright. Whatever -the papers may say, it is not true, except the Fact that he was -recognized by Jane Raleigh, who knew the suit he wore, when in the -act of pawning his ring to get money to escape from his captors (I. -E., The Pattens) with. It was the necktie which struck her first, -and also his gilty expression. As I was missing by that time, Jane -put two and two together and made an Elopement. - -Sometimes I sit and think things over, my fingers wandering "over the -ivory keys" of the typewriter they gave me to promise not to elope -with anybody--although such a thing is far from my mind--and the -World seems a cruel and unjust place, especialy to those with ambition. - -For Reginald Beecher is no longer my ideal, my Night of the pen. I -will tell about that in a few words. - -Jane Raleigh and I went to a matinee late in September before -returning to our institutions of learning. Jane cluched my arm as -we looked at our programs and pointed to something. - -How my heart beat! For whatever had come between us, I was still -loyal to him. - -This was a new play by him! - -"Ah," my heart seemed to say, "now again you will hear his dear -words, although spoken by alien mouths. - -The love seens----" - -I could not finish. Although married and forever beyond me, I could -still hear his manly tones as issueing from the door of the -Bath-house. I thrilled with excitement. As the curtain rose I -closed my eyes in ecstacy. - -"Bab!" Jane said, in a quavering tone. - -I looked. What did I see? The bath-house itself, the very one. And -as I stared I saw a girl, wearing her hair as I wear mine, cross -the stage with a Bunch of Keys in her hand, and say to the -bath-house door. - -"Can't I do somthing to help? I do so want to help you." - -MY VERY WORDS. - -And a voice from beyond the bath-house door said: - -"Who's that?" - -HIS WORDS. - -I could bare no more. Heedless of Jane's Protests and Anguish, I -got up and went out, into the light of day. My body was bent with -misry. Because at last I knew that, like mother and all the rest, -HE TO DID NOT UNDERSTAND ME, AND NEVER WOULD. To him I was but -material, the stuff that plays are made of! - - - And now we know that he never could know, - And did not understand. - Kipling. - - -Ignoring Jane's observation that the tickets had cost two dollars -each, I gathered up the scattered Skeins of my life together, and fled. - - - -CHAPTER III - -HER DIARY: BEING THE DAILY JOURNAL OF THE SUB-DEB - -JANUARY 1st. I have today recieved this dairy from home, having -come back a few days early to make up a French Condition. - -Weather, clear and cold. - -New Year's dinner. Roast chicken (Turkey being very expencive), -mashed Turnips, sweet Potatos and minse Pie. - -It is my intention to record in this book the details of my Daily -Life, my thoughts which are to sacred for utterence, and my -ambitions. Because who is there to whom I can speak them? I am -surounded by those who exist for the mere Pleasures of the day, or -whose lives are bound up in Resitations. - -For instance, at dinner today, being mostly faculty and a few girls -who live in the Far West, the conversation was entirely on buying -a Phonograph for dancing because the music teacher has the meazles -and is quarentined in the infirmery. And on Miss Everett's couzin, -who has written a play. - -When one looks at Miss Everett, one recognises that no couzin of -hers could write a play. - -New Year's resolution--to help some one every day. Today helped -Mademoiselle to put on her rubers. - - -JANUARY 2ND. Today I wrote my French theme, beginning, "Les hommes -songent moins a leur AME QU A leur CORPS. Mademoiselle sent for me -and objected, saying that it was not a theme for a young girl, and -that I must write a new one, on the subject of pears. How is one to -develope in this atmosphere? - -Some of the girls are coming back. They stragle in, and put the -favers they got at Cotillions on the dresser, and their holaday -gifts, and each one relates some amorus experience while at home. -Dear dairy, is there somthing wrong with me, that Love has passed -me by? I have had offers of Devotion but none that apealed to me, -being mostly either to young or not atracting me by physicle charm. -I am not cold, although frequently acused of it, Beneath my fridgid -Exterior beats a warm heart. I intend to be honest in this dairy, -and so I admit it. But, except for passing Fansies--one being, -alas, for a married man--I remain without the Divine Passion. - -What must it be to thrill at the aproach of the loved Form? To -harken to each ring of the telephone bell, in the hope that, if it -is not the Idolised Voice, it is at least a message from it? To -waken in the morning and, looking around the familiar room, to -muze: "Today I may see him--on the way to the Post Office, or -rushing past in his racing car." And to know that at the same -moment HE to is muzing: "Today I may see her, as she exercises -herself at basket ball, or mounts her horse for a daily canter!" - -Although I have no horse. The school does not care for them, -considering walking the best exercise. - -Have flunked the French again, Mademoiselle not feeling well, and -marking off for the smallest Thing. - -Today's helpfull Deed--asisted one of the younger girls with her spelling. - - -JANUARY 4TH. Miss Everett's couzin's play is coming here. The -school is to have free tickets, as they are "trying it on the dog." -Which means seeing if it is good enough for the large cities. - -We have desided, if Everett marks us well in English from now on, to -aplaud it, but if she is unpleasent, to sit still and show no interest. - - -JANUARY 5TH, 6TH, 7TH, 8TH. Bad weather, which is depressing to one -of my Temperment. Also boil on noze. - -A few helpfull Deeds--nothing worth putting down. - - -JANUARY 9TH. Boil cut. - -Again I can face my Image in my mirror, and not shrink. - -Mademoiselle is sick and no French. MISERICORDE! - -Helpfull Deed--sent Mademoiselle some fudge, but this school does -not encourage kindness. Reprimanded for cooking in room. School -sympathises with me. We will go to Miss Everett's couzin's play, -but we will dam it with faint praise. - - -JANUARY 10TH. I have written this Date, and now I sit back and -regard it. As it is impressed on this white paper, so, Dear Dairy, -is it written on my Soul. To others it may be but the tenth of -January. To me it is the day of days. Oh, tenth of January! Oh, -Monday. Oh, day of my awakning! - -It is now late at night, and around me my schoolmates are sleeping -the sleep of the young and Heart free. Lights being off, I am -writing by the faint luminocity of a candle. Propped up in bed, my -mackinaw coat over my ROBE DE NUIT for warmth, I sit and dream. And -as I dream I still hear in my ears his final words: "My darling. My -woman!" - -How wonderfull to have them said to one Night after Night, the -while being in his embrase, his tender arms around one! I refer to -the heroine in the play, to whom he says the above raptureous words. - -Coming home from the theater tonight, still dazed with the -revelation of what I am capable of, once aroused, I asked Miss -Everett if her couzin had said anything about Mr. Egleston being in -love with the Leading Character. She observed: - -"No. But he may be. She is very pretty." - -"Possably," I remarked. "But I should like to see her in the -morning, when she gets up." - -All the girls were perfectly mad about Mr. Egleston, although -pretending merely to admire his Art. But I am being honest, as I -agreed at the start, and now I know, as I sit here with the soft, -although chilly breeses of the night blowing on my hot brow, now I -know that this thing that has come to me is Love. Morover, it is -the Love of my Life. He will never know it, but I am his. He is -exactly my Ideal, strong and tall and passionate. And clever, to. -He said some awfuly clever things. - -I beleive that he saw me. He looked in my direction. But what does -it matter? I am small, insignifacant. He probably thinks me a mere -child, although seventeen. - -What matters, oh Dairy, is that I am at last in Love. It is -hopeless. Just now, when I had written that word, I buried my face -in my hands. There is no hope. None. I shall never see him again. -He passed out of my life on the 11:45 train. But I love him. MON -DIEU, how I love him! - - -JANUARY 11TH. We are going home. WE ARE GOING HOME. WE ARE GOING -HOME. WE ARE GOING HOME! - -Mademoiselle has the meazles. - - -JANUARY 13TH. The Familey managed to restrain its ecstacy on seeing -me today. The house is full of people, as they are having a -Dinner-Dance tonight. Sis had moved into my room, to let one of the -visitors have hers, and she acted in a very unfilial manner when -she came home and found me in it. - -"Well!" she said. "Expelled at last?" - -"Not at all," I replied in a lofty manner. "I am here through no -fault of my own. And I'd thank you to have Hannah take your clothes -off my bed." - -She gave me a bitter glanse. - -"I never knew it to fail!" she said. "Just as everything is fixed, -and we're recovering from you're being here for the Holadays, you -come back and stir up a lot of trouble. What brought you, anyhow?" - -"Meazles." - -She snached up her ball gown. - -"Very well," she said. "I'll see that you're quarentined, Miss -Barbara, all right. And If you think you're going to slip -downstairs tonight after dinner and WORM yourself into this party, -I'll show you." - -She flounsed out, and shortly afterwards mother took a minute from -the Florest, and came upstairs. - -"I do hope you are not going to be troublesome, Barbara," she said. -"You are too young to understand, but I want everything to go well -tonight, and Leila ought not to be worried." - -"Can't I dance a little?" - -"You can sit on the stairs and watch." She looked fidgity. "I--I'll -send up a nice dinner, and you can put on your dark blue, with a -fresh collar, and--it ought to satisfy you, Barbara, that you are -at home and posibly have brought the meazles with you, without -making a lot of fuss. When you come out----" - -"Oh, very well," I murmured, in a resined tone. "I don't care -enough about it to want to dance with a lot of Souses anyhow." - -"Barbara!" said mother. - -"I suppose you have some one on the String for her," I said, with -the ABANDON of my thwarted Hopes. "Well, I hope she gets him. Because -if not I darsay I shall be kept in the Cradle for years to come." - -"You will come out when vou reach a proper Age," she said, "if your -Impertanence does not kill me off before my Time." - -Dear Dairy, I am fond of my mother, and I felt repentent and stricken. - -So I became more agreable, although feeling all the time that she -does not and never will understand my Temperment. I said: - -"I don't care about Society, and you know it, mother. If you'll -keep Leila out of this room, which isn't much but is my Castle -while here, I'll probably go to bed early." - -"Barbara, sometimes I think you have no afection for your Sister." - -I had agreed to honesty January first, so I replied. - -"I have, of course, mother. But I am fonder of her while at school -than at home. And I should be a better Sister if not condemed to -her old things, including hats which do not suit my Tipe." - -Mother moved over magestically to the door and shut it. Then she -came and stood over me. - -"I've come to the conclusion, Barbara," she said, "to appeal to -your better Nature. Do you wish Leila to be married and happy?" - -"I've just said, mother----" - -"Because a very interesting thing is happening," said mother, -trying to look playfull. "I--a chance any girl would jump at." - -So here I sit, Dear Dairy, while there are sounds of revelery -below, and Sis jumps at her chance, which is the Honorable Page -Beres ford, who is an Englishman visiting here because he has a -weak heart and can't fight. And father is away on business, and I -am all alone. - -I have been looking for a rash, but no luck. - -Ah me, how the strains of the orkestra recall that magic night in -the theater when Adrian Egleston looked down into my eyes and -although ostensably to an actress, said to my beating heart: "My -Darling! My Woman!" - - -3 A. M. I wonder if I can controll my hands to write. - -In mother's room across the hall I can hear furious Voices, and I -know that Leila is begging to have me sent to Switzerland. Let her -beg. Switzerland is not far from England, and in England---- - -Here I pause to reflect a moment. How is this thing possible? Can -I love to members of the Other Sex? And if such is the Case, how -can I go on with my Life? Better far to end it now, than to -perchance marry one, and find the other still in my heart. The -terrable thought has come to me that I am fickel. - -Fickel or polygamus--which? - -Dear Dairy, I have not been a good girl. My New Year's Resolutions -have gone to airey nothing. - -The way they went was this: I had settled down to a quiet evening, -spent with his beloved picture which I had clipped from a -newspaper. (Adrian's. I had not as yet met the other.) And, as I -sat in my chamber, I grew more and more desolate. I love Life, -although pessamistic at times. And it seemed hard that I should be -there, in exile, while my Sister, only 2O months older, was jumping -at her chance below. - -At last I decided to try on one of Sis's frocks and see how I -looked in it. I though, if it looked all right, I might hang over -the stairs and see what I then scornfully termed "His Nibs." Never -again shall I so call him. - -I got an evening gown from Sis's closet, and it fitted me quite -well, although tight at the waste for me, owing to Basket Ball. It -was also to low, so that when I had got it all hooked about four -inches of my LINGERIE showed. As it had been hard as anything to -hook, I was obliged to take the scizzors and cut off the said -LINGERIE. The result was good, although very DECOLLTE. I have no -bones in my neck, or practicaly so. - -And now came my moment of temptation. How easy to put my hair up on -my head, and then, by the servant's staircase, make my way to the -seen below! - -I, however, considered that I looked pale, although Mature. I -looked at least nineteen. So I went into Sis's room, which was full -of evening wraps but emty, and put on a touch of rouge. With that -and my eyebrows blackend, I would not have known myself, had I not -been certain it was I and no other. - -I then made my way down the Back Stairs. - -Ah me, Dear Dairy, was that but a few hours ago? Is it but a short -time since Mr. Beresford was sitting at my feet, thinking me a -DEBUTANTE, and staring soulfully into my very heart? Is it but a -matter of minutes since Leila found us there, and in a manner which -revealed the true feeling she has for me, ordered me to go upstairs -and take off Maidie Mackenzie's gown? - -(Yes, it was not Leila's after all. I had forgotten that Maidie had -taken her room. And except for pulling it somewhat at the waste, I -am sure I did not hurt the old thing.) - -I shall now go to bed and dream. Of which one I know not. My heart -is full. Romanse has come at last into my dull and dreary life. -Below, the revelers have gone. The flowers hang their herbacious -heads. The music has flowed away into the river of the past. I am -alone with my Heart. - - -JANUARY 14TH. How complacated my Life grows, Dear Dairy! How full -and yet how incomplete! How everything begins and nothing ends! - -HE is in town. - -I discovered it at breakfast. I knew I was in for it, and I got -down early, counting on mother breakfasting in bed. I would have -felt better if father had been at home, because he understands -somwhat the way They keep me down. But he was away about an order -for shells (not sea; war), and I was to bear my chiding alone. I -had eaten my fruit and serial, and was about to begin on sausage, -when mother came in, having risen early from her slumbers to take -the decorations to the Hospital. - -"So here you are, wreched child!" she said, giving me one of her coldest -looks. "Barbara, I wonder if you ever think whither you are tending." - -I ate a sausage. - -What, Dear Dairy, was there to say? - -"To disobey!" she went on. "To force yourself on the atention of -Mr. Beresford, in a borowed dress, with your eyelashes blackend and -your face painted----" - -"I should think, mother," I observed, "that if he wants to marry -into this family, and is not merely being dragged into it, that he -ought to see the worst at the start." She glired, without speaking. -"You know," I continued, "it would be a dreadfull thing to have the -Ceramony performed and everything to late to back out, and then -have ME Sprung on him. It wouldn't be honest, would it?" - -"Barbara!" she said in a terrable tone. "First disobedience, and -now sarcasm. If your father was only here! I feel so alone and helpless." - -Her tone cut me to the Heart. After all she was my own mother, or -at least maintained so, in spite of numerous questions enjendered -by our lack of resemblence, moral as well as physicle. But I did -not offer to embrase her, as she was at that moment poring out her -tea. I hid my misery behind the morning paper, and there I beheld -the fated vision. Had I felt any doubt as to the state of my -afections it was settled then. My Heart leaped in my bosom. My face -sufused. My hands trembled so that a piece of sausage slipped from -my fork. HIS PICTURE LOOKED OUT AT ME WITH THAT WELL REMEMBERED -GAZE FROM THE DEPTHS OF THE MORNING PAPER. - -Oh, Adrian, Adrian! - -Here in the same city as I, looking out over perchance the same newspaper -to perchance the same sun, wondering--ah, what was he wondering? - -I was not even then, in that first Rapture, foolish about him. I -knew that to him I was probably but a tender memory. I knew, to, -that he was but human and probably very concieted. On the other -hand, I pride myself on being a good judge of character, and he -carried Nobility in every linament. Even the obliteration of one -eye by the printer could only hamper but not destroy his dear face. - -"Barbara," mother said sharply. "I am speaking. Are you being sulkey?" - -"Pardon me, mother," I said in my gentlest tones. "I was but dreaming." -And as she made no reply, but rang the bell visciously, I went on, -pursuing my line of thought. "Mother, were you ever in Love?" - -"Love! What sort of Love?" - -I sat up and stared at her. - -"Is there more than one sort?" I demanded. - -"There is a very silly, schoolgirl Love," she said, eyeing me, -"that people outgrow and blush to look back on." - -"Do you?" - -"Do I what?" - -"Do you blush to look back on it?" - -Mother rose and made a sweeping gesture with her right arm. - -"I wash my hands of you!" she said. "You are impertanent and -indelacate. At your age I was an inocent child, not troubleing with -things that did not concern me. As for Love, I had never heard of -it until I came out." - -"Life must have burst on you like an explosion," I observed. "I -suppose you thought that babies----" - -"Silense!" mother shreiked. And seeing that she persisted in -ignoring the real things of Life while in my presence, I went out, -cluching the precious paper to my Heart. - - -JANUARY 15TH. I am alone in my BOUDOIR (which is realy the old -schoolroom, and used now for a sowing room). - -My very soul is sick, oh Dairy. How can I face the truth? How write -it out for my eyes to see? But I must. For SOMETHING MUST BE DONE. -The play is failing. - -The way I discovered it was this. Yesterday, being short of money, -I sold my amethist pin to Jane, one of the housemaids, for two -dollars, throwing in a lace coller when she seemed doubtful, as I -had a special purpose for useing funds. Had father been at home I -could have touched him, but mother is diferent. - -I then went out to buy a frame for his picture, which I had -repaired by drawing in the other eye, although licking the Fire and -passionate look of the originle. At the shop I was compeled to show -it, to buy a frame to fit. The clerk was almost overpowered. - -"Do you know him?" she asked, in a low and throbing tone. - -"Not intimitely," I replied. - -"Don't you love the Play?" she said. "I'm crazy about it. I've been -back three times. Parts of it I know off by heart. He's very -handsome. That picture don't do him justise." - -I gave her a searching glanse. Was it posible that, without any -acquaintance with him whatever, she had fallen in love with him? It -was indeed. She showed it in every line of her silly face. - -I drew myself up hautily. "I should think it would be very -expencive, going so often," I said, in a cool tone. - -"Not so very. You see, the play is a failure, and they give us -girls tickets to dress the house. Fill it up, you know. Half the -girls in the store are crazy about Mr. Egleston." - -My world shuddered about me. What--fail! That beautiful play, -ending "My darling, my woman"? It could not be. Fate would not be -cruel. Was there no apreciation of the best in Art? Was it indeed -true, as Miss Everett has complained, although not in these exact -words, that the Theater was only supported now by chorus girls' -legs, dancing about in uter ABANDON? - -With an expression of despair on my features, I left the store, -carrying the Frame under my arm. - -One thing is certain. I must see the play again, and judge it with -a criticle eye. IF IT IS WORTH SAVING, IT MUST BE SAVED. - - -JANUARY 16TH. Is it only a day since I saw you, Dear Dairy? Can so -much have happened in the single lapse of a few hours? I look in my -mirror, and I look much as before, only with perhaps a touch of -paller. Who would not be pale? - -I have seen HIM again, and there is no longer any doubt in my -heart. Page Beresford is atractive, and if it were not for -circumstances as they are I would not anser for the consequences. -But things ARE as they are. There is no changing that. And I have -reid my own heart. - -I am not fickel. On the contrary, I am true as steal. - -I have put his Picture under my mattress, and have given Jane my -gold cuff pins to say nothing when she makes my bed. And now, with -the house full of People downstairs acting in a flippent and noisy -maner, I shall record how it all happened. - -My finantial condition was not improved this morning, father having -not returned. But I knew that I must see the Play, as mentioned -above, even if it became necesary to borow from Hannah. At last, -seeing no other way, I tried this, but failed. - -"What for?" she said, in a suspicous way." - -"I need it terrably, Hannah," I said. - -"You'd ought to get it from your mother, then, Miss Barbara. The -last time I gave you some you paid it back in postage stamps, and -I haven't written a letter since. They're all stuck together now, -and a totle loss." - -"Very well," I said, fridgidly. "But the next time you break -anything----" - -"How much do you want?" she asked. - -I took a quick look at her, and I saw at once that she had desided -to lend it to me and then run and tell mother, beginning, "I think -you'd ought to know, Mrs. Archibald----" - -"Nothing doing, Hannah," I said, in a most dignafied manner. "But -I think you are an old Clam, and I don't mind saying so." - -I was now thrown on my own resourses, and very bitter. I seemed to -have no Friends, at a time when I needed them most, when I was, as -one may say, "standing with reluctent feet, where the brook and -river meet." - -Tonight I am no longer sick of Life, as I was then. My throws of -anguish have departed. But I was then uterly reckless, and even -considered running away and going on the stage myself. - -I have long desired a Career for mvself, anyhow. I have a good -mind, and learn easily, and I am not a Paracite. The idea of being -such has always been repugnent to me, while the idea of a few -dollars at a time doaled out to one of independant mind is galling. -And how is one to remember what one has done with one's Allowence, -when it is mostly eaten up by Small Lones, Carfare, Stamps, Church -Collection, Rose Water and Glicerine, and other Mild Cosmetics, and -the aditional Food necesary when one is still growing? - -To resume, Dear Dairy; having uterly failed with Hannah, and having -shortly after met Sis on the stairs, I said to her, in a sisterly -tone, intimite rather than fond: - -"I darsay you can lend me five dollars for a day or so." - -"I darsay I can. But I won't," was her cruel reply. - -"Oh, very well," I said breifly. But I could not refrain from -making a grimase at her back, and she saw me in a mirror. - -"When I think," she said heartlessly, "that that wreched school may -be closed for weeks, I could scream." - -"Well, scream!" I replied. "You'll scream harder if I've brought -the meazles home on me. And if you're laid up, you can say good-bye -to the Dishonorable. You've got him tide, maybe," I remarked, "but -not thrown as yet." - -(A remark I had learned from one of the girls, Trudie Mills, who -comes from Montana.) - -I was therfore compeled to dispose of my silver napkin ring from -school. Jane was bought up, she said, and I sold it to the cook for -fifty cents and half a minse pie although baked with our own materials. - -All my Fate, therfore, hung on a paltrey fifty cents. - -I was torn with anxiety. Was it enough? Could I, for fifty cents, -steel away from the sordid cares of life, and lose myself in -obliviousness, gazing only it his dear Face, listening to his dear -and softly modulited Voice, and wondering if, as his eyes swept the -audiance, they might perchance light on me and brighten with a -momentary gleam in their unfathomable Depths? Only this and nothing -more, was my expectation. - -How diferent was the reality! - -Having ascertained that there was a matinee, I departed at an early -hour after luncheon, wearing my blue velvet with my fox furs. White -gloves and white topped shoes completed my outfit, and, my own -CHAPEAU showing the effect of a rainstorm on the way home from -church while away at school, I took a chance on one of Sis's, a -perfectly madening one of rose-colored velvet. As the pink made me -look pale, I added a touch of rouge. - -I looked fully out, and indeed almost Second Season. I have a way -of assuming a serious and Mature manner, so that I am frequently -taken for older than I realy am. Then, taking a few roses left from -the decorations, and thrusting them carelessly into the belt of my -coat, I went out the back door, as Sis was getting ready for some -girls to Bridge, in the front of the house. - -Had I felt any greif at decieving my Familey, the bridge party -would have knocked them. For, as usual, I had not been asked, -although playing a good game myself, and having on more than one -occasion won most of the money in the Upper House at school. - -I was early at the theater. No one was there, and women were going -around taking covers off the seats. My fifty cents gave me a good -seat, from which I opined, alas, that the shop girl had been right -and busness was rotten. But at last, after hours of waiting, the -faint tuning of musicle instruments was heard. - -From that time I lived in a daze. I have never before felt so -strange. I have known and respected the Other Sex, and indeed once -or twise been kissed by it. But I had remained Cold. My Pulses had -never flutered. I was always conserned only with the fear that -others had overseen and would perhaps tell. But now--I did not care -who would see, if only Adrian would put his arms about me. Divine -shamlessness! Brave Rapture! For if one who he could not possably -love, being so close to her in her make-up, if one who was indeed -employed to be made Love to, could submit in public to his -embrases, why should not I, who would have died for him? - -These were my thoughts as the Play went on. The hours flew on -joyous feet. When Adrian came to the footlights and looking -aparently square at me, declaimed: "The World owes me a living. I -will have it," I almost swooned. His clothes were worn. He looked -hungry and ghaunt. But how true that - - -"Rags are royal raimant, when worn for virtue's sake." - - -(I shall stop here and go down to the Pantrey. I could eat no -dinner, being filled with emotion. But I must keep strong if I am -to help Adrian in his Trouble. The minse pie was excelent, but -after all pastrey does not take the place of solid food.) - - -LATER: I shall now go on with my recitle. As the theater was almost -emty, at the end of Act One I put on the pink hat and left it on as -though absent-minded. There was no one behind me. And, although -during Act One I had thought that he perhaps felt my presense, he -had not once looked directly at me. - -But the hat captured his erant gaze, as one may say. And, after -capture, it remained on my face, so much so that I flushed and a -woman. sitting near with a very plain girl in a Skunk Coller, observed: - -"Realy, it is outragous." - -Now came a moment which I thrill even to recolect. For Adrian -plucked a pink rose from a vase--he was in the Milionaire' s house, -and was starving in the midst of luxury--and held it to his lips. - -The rose, not the house, of course. Looking over it, he smiled -down at me. - - -LATER: It is midnight. I cannot sleep. Perchanse he to is lieing -awake. I am sitting at the window in my ROBE DE NUIT. Below, mother -and Sis have just come in, and Smith has slamed the door of the car -and gone back to the GARAGE. How puney is the life my Familey -leads! Nothing but eating and playing, with no Higher Thoughts. - -A man has just gone by. For a moment I thought I recognised the -footstep. But no, it was but the night watchman. - - -JANUARY 17TH. Father still away. No money, as mother absolutely -refuses on account of Maidie Mackenzie's gown, which she had to -send away to be repaired. - - -JANUARY 18TH. Father still away. The Hon. sent Sis a huge bunch of -orkids today. She refused me even one. She is always tight with -flowers and candy. - - -JANUARY 19TH. The paper says that Adrian's Play is going to close -the end of next week. No busness. How can I endure to know that he -is sufering, and that I cannot help, even to the extent of buying -one ticket? Matinee today, and no money. Father still away. - -I have tried to do a kind Deed today, feeling that perhaps it would -soften mother's heart and she would advance my Allowence. I offered -to manacure her nails for her, but she refused, saying that as -Hannah had done it for many years, she guessed she could manage now. - - -JANUARY 2OTH. Today I did a desparate thing, dear Dairy. - - -"The desparatest is the wisest course." Butler. - - -It is Sunday. I went to Church, and thought things over. What a -wonderfull thing it would be if I could save the play! Why should -I feel that my Sex is a handycap? - -The recter preached on "The Opportunaties of Women." The Sermon -gave me courage to go on. When he said, "Women today step in where -men are afraid to tred, and bring success out of failure," I felt -that it was meant for me. - -Had no money for the Plate, and mother atempted to smugle a half -dollar to me. I refused, however, as if I cannot give my own money -to the Heathen, I will give none. Mother turned pale, and the man -with the plate gave me a black look. What can he know of my reasons? - -Beresford lunched with us, and as I discouraged him entirely, he -was very atentive to Sis. Mother is planing a big Wedding, and I -found Sis in the store room yesterday looking up mother's wedding veil. - -No old stuff for me. - -I guess Beresford is trying to forget that he kissed my hand the -other night, for he called me "Little Miss Barbara" today, meaning -little in the sense of young. I gave him a stern glanse. - -"I am not any littler than the other night," I observed. - -"That was merely an afectionate diminutive," he said, looking -uncomfortable. - -"If you don't mind," I said coldly, "you might do as you have -hertofore--reserve vour afectionate advances until we are alone." - -"Barbara!" mother said. And began quickly to talk about a Lady -Somthing or other we'd met on a train in Switzerland. Because--they -can talk until they are black in the face, dear Dairy, but it is -true we do not know any of the British Nobilaty, except the -aforementioned and the man who comes once a year with flavering -extracts, who says he is the third son of a Barronet. - -Every one being out this afternoon, I suddenly had an inspiration, -and sent for Carter Brooks. I then put my hair up and put on my -blue silk, because while I do not beleive in Woman using her -femanine charm when talking busness, I do beleive that she should -look her best under any and all circumstances. - -He was rather surprized not to find Sis in, as I had used her name -in telephoning. - -"I did it," I explained, "because I knew that you felt no interest -in me, and I had to see you." - -He looked at me, and said: - -"I'm rather flabergasted, Bab. I--what ought I to say, anyhow?" - -He came very close, dear Dairy, and sudenly I saw in his eyes the -horible truth. He thought me in Love with him, and sending for him -while the Familey was out. - -Words cannot paint my agony of Soul. I stepped back, but he siezed -my hand, in a caresing gesture. - -"Bab!" he said. "Dear little Bab!" - -Had my afections not been otherwise engaged, I should have thriled -at his accents. But, although handsome and of good familey, -although poor, I could not see it that way. - -So I drew my hand away, and retreated behind a sofa. - -"We must have an understanding, Carter" I Said. "I have sent for you, -but not for the reason you seem to think. I am in desparate Trouble." - -He looked dumfounded. - -"Trouble!" he said. "You! Why, little Bab" - -"If you don't mind," I put in, rather petishly, because of not -being little, "I wish you would treat me like almost a DEBUTANTE, -if not entirely. I am not a child in arms." - -"You are sweet enough to be, if the arms might be mine." - -I have puzled over this, since, dear Dairy. Because there must be -some reason why men fall in Love with me. I am not ugly, but I am -not beautifull, my noze being too short. And as for clothes, I get -none except Leila's old things. But Jane Raleigh says there are -women like that. She has a couzin who has had four Husbands and is -beginning on a fifth, although not pretty and very slovenly, but -with a mass of red hair. - -Are all men to be my Lovers? - -"Carter," I said earnestly, "I must tell you now that I do not care -for you--in that way." - -"What made you send for me, then?" - -"Good gracious!" I exclaimed, losing my temper somwhat. "I can send -for the ice man without his thinking I'm crazy about him, can't I?" - -"Thanks." - -"The truth is," I said, sitting down and motioning him to a seat in -my maturest manner, "I--I want some money. There are many things, -but the Money comes first." - -He just sat and looked at me with his mouth open. - -"Well," he said at last, "of course--I suppose you know you've come -to a Bank that's gone into the hands of a reciever. But aside from -that, Bab, it's a pretty mean trick to send for me and let me -think--well, no matter about that. How much do you want?" - -"I can pay it back as soon as father comes home," I said, to -releive his mind. It is against my principals to borow money, -especialy from one who has little or none. But since I was doing -it, I felt I might as well ask for a lot. - -"Could you let me have ten dollars?" I said, in a faint tone. - -He drew a long breath. - -"Well, I guess yes," he observed. "I thought you were going to -touch me for a hundred, anyhow. I--I suppose you wouldn't give me -a kiss and call it square." - -I considered. Because after all, a kiss is not much, and ten -dollars is a good deal. But at last my better nature won out. - -"Certainly not," I said coldly. "And if there is a String to it I -do not want it." - -So he apologised, and came and sat beside me, without being a -nusance, and asked me what my other troubles were. - -"Carter" I said, in a grave voice, "I know that you beleive me -young and incapable of Afection. But you are wrong. I am of a most -loving disposition." - -"Now see here, Bab," he said. "Be fair. If I am not to hold your -hand, or--or be what you call a nusance, don't talk like this. I am -but human," he said, "and there is somthing about you lately that-- -well, go on with your story. Only, as I say, don't try me to far." - -"It's like this," I explained. "Girls think they are cold and -distant, and indeed, frequently are" - -"Frequently!" - -"Until they meet the Right One. Then they learn that their hearts -are, as you say, but human." - -"Bab," he said, sudenly turning and facing me, "an awfull thought -has come to me. You are in Love--and not with me!" - -"I am in Love, and not with you," I said in tradgic tones. - -I had not thought he would feel it deeply--because of having been -interested in Leila since they went out in their Perambulaters -together. But I could see it was a shock to him. He got up and -stood looking in the fire, and his shoulders shook with greif. - -"So I have lost you," he said in a smothered voice. And then--"Who -is the sneaking schoundrel?" - -I forgave him this, because of his being upset, and in a rapt -attatude I told him the whole story. He listened, as one in a daze. - -"But I gather," he said, when at last the recitle was over, "that -you have never met the--met him." - -"Not in the ordinery use of the word," I remarked. "But then it is -not an ordinery situation. We have met and we have not. Our eyes -have spoken, if not our vocal chords." Seeing his eyes on me I -added, "if you do not beleive that Soul can cry unto Soul, Carter, -I shall go no further." - -"Oh!" he exclaimed. "There is more, is there? I trust it is not -painfull, because I have stood as much as I can now without -breaking down." - -"Nothing of which I am ashamed," I said, rising to my full height. -"I have come to you for help, Carter. THAT PLAY MUST NOT FAIL." - -We faced each other over those vitle words--faced, and found no solution. - -"Is it a good Play?" he asked, at last. - -"It is a beautiful Play. Oh, Carter, when at the end he takes his -Sweetheart in his arms--the leading lady, and not at all atractive. -Jane Raleigh says that the star generaly HATES his leading -lady--there is not a dry eye in the house." - -"Must be a jolly little thing. Well, of course I'm no theatricle -manager, but if it's any good there's only one way to save it. -Advertize. I didn't know the piece was in town, which shows that -the publicaty has been rotten." - -He began to walk the floor. I don't think I have mentioned it, but -that is Carter's busness. Not walking the floor. Advertizing. -Father says he is quite good, although only beginning. - -"Tell me about it," he said. - -So I told him that Adrian was a mill worker, and the villain makes -him lose his position, by means of forjery. And Adrian goes to -jail, and comes out, and no one will give him work. So he prepares -to blow up a Milionaire's house, and his sweetheart is in it. He -has been to the Milionaire for work and been refused and thrown -out, saying, just before the butler and three footmen push him -through a window, in dramatic tones, "The world owes me a living -and I will have it." - -"Socialism!" said Carter. "Hard stuff to handle for the two dollar -seats. The world owes him a living. Humph! Still, that's a good -line to work on. Look here, Bab, give me a little time on this, eh -what? I may be able to think of a trick or two. But mind, not a -word to any one." - -He started out, but he came back. - -"Look here," he said. "Where do we come in on this anyhow? Suppose -I do think of somthing--what then? How are we to know that your beloved -and his manager will thank us for buting in, or do what we sugest?" - -Again I drew myself to my full heighth. - -"I am a person of iron will when my mind is made up," I said. "You -think of somthing, Carter, and I'll see that it is done." - -He gazed at me in a rapt manner. - -"Dammed if I don't beleive you," he said. - -It is now late at night. Beresford has gone. The house is still. I -take the dear Picture out from under my mattress and look at it. - -Oh Adrien, my Thespian, my Love. - - -JANUARY 21ST. I have a bad cold, Dear Dairy, and feel rotten. But -only my physicle condition is such. I am happy beyond words. This -morning, while mother and Sis were out I called up the theater and -inquired the price of a box. The man asked me to hold the line, and -then came back and said it would be ten dollars. I told him to -reserve it for Miss Putnam--my middle name. - -I am both terrafied and happy, dear Dairy, as I lie here in bed -with a hot water bottle at my feet. I have helped the Play by -buying a box, and tonight I shall sit in it alone, and he will -percieve me there, and consider that I must be at least twenty, or -I would not be there at the theater alone. Hannah has just come in -and offered to lend me three dollars. I refused hautily, but at -last rang for her and took two. I might as well have a taxi tonight. - - -1 A. M. THE FAMILEY WAS THERE. I might have known it. Never do I -have any luck. I am a broken thing, crushed to earth. But "Truth -crushed to earth will rise again."--Whittier? - -I had my dinner in bed, on account of my cold, and was let severly alone -by the Familey. At seven I rose and with palpatating fingers dressed -myself in my best evening Frock, which is a pale yellow. I put my hair -up, and was just finished, when mother nocked. It was terrable. - -I had to duck back into bed and crush everything. But she only looked -in and said to try and behave for the next three hours, and went away. - -At a quarter to eight I left the house in a clandestine manner by -means of the cellar and the area steps, and on the pavment drew a -long breath. I was free, and I had twelve dollars. - -Act One went well, and no disturbence. Although Adrian started when -he saw me. The yellow looked very well. - -I had expected to sit back, sheltered by the curtains, and only -visable from the stage. I have often read of this method. But there -were no curtains. I therfore sat, turning a stoney profile to the -Audiance, and ignoreing it, as though it were not present, trusting -to luck that no one I knew was there. - -He saw me. More than that, he hardly took his eyes from the box -wherein I sat. I am sure to that he had mentioned me to the -Company, for one and all they stared at me until I think they will -know me the next time they see me. - -I still think I would not have been recognized by the Familey had -I not, in a very quiet seen, commenced to sneaze. I did this several -times, and a lot of people looked anoyed, as though I sneazed because -I liked to sneaze. And I looked back at them defiantly, and in so doing, -encountered the gaze of my Maternal Parent. - -Oh, Dear Dairy, that I could have died at that moment, and thus, -when streched out a pathetic figure, with tubroses and other -flowers, have compeled their pity. But alas, no. I sneazed again! - -Mother was weged in, and I saw that my only hope was flight. I had -not had more than between three and four dollars worth of the -evening, but I glansed again and Sis was boring holes into me with -her eyes. Only Beresford knew nothing, and was trying to hold Sis's -hand under her opera cloak. Any fool could tell that. - -But, as I was about to rise and stand poized, as one may say, for -departure, I caught Adrian's eyes, with a gleam in their deep -depths. He was, at the moment, toying with the bowl of roses. He -took one out, and while the Leading Lady was talking, he eged his -way toward my box. There, standing very close, aparently by -accident, he droped the rose into my lap. - -Oh Dairy! Dairy! - -I picked it up, and holding it close to me, I flew. - -I am now in bed and rather chilley. Mother banged at the door some -time ago, and at last went away, mutering. - -I am afraid she is going to be petish. - - -JANUARY 22ND. Father came home this morning, and things are looking -up. Mother of course tackeled him first thing, and when he came -upstairs I expected an awful time. But my father is a reel Person, -so he only sat down on the bed, and said: - -"Well, chicken, so you're at it again!" - -I had to smile, although my chin shook. - -"You'd better turn me out and forget me," I said. "I was born for -Trouble. My advice to the Familey is to get out from under. That's all." - -"Oh, I don't know," he said. "It's pretty conveniant to have a -Familey to drop on when the slump comes." He thumped himself on the -chest. "A hundred and eighty pounds," he observed, "just intended -for little daughters to fall back on when other things fail." - -"Father," I inquired, putting my hand in his, because I had been -bearing my burdens alone, and my strength was failing: "do you -beleive in Love?" - -"DO I!" - -"But I mean, not the ordinery atachment between two married people. -I mean Love--the reel thing." - -"I see! Why, of course I do." - -"Did you ever read Pope, father?" - -"Pope? Why I--probably, chicken. Why?" - -"Then you know what he says: `Curse on all laws but those which -Love has made.'" - -"Look here," he said, sudenly laying a hand on my brow. "I beleive -you are feverish." - -"Not feverish, but in trouble," I explained. And so I told him the -story, not saying much of my deep Passion for Adrian, but merely -that I had formed an atachment for him which would persist during -Life. Although I had never yet exchanged a word with him. - -Father listened and said it was indeed a sad story, and that he -knew my deep nature, and that I would be true to the End. But he -refused to give me any money, except enough to pay back Hannah and -Carter Brooks, saying: - -"Your mother does not wish you to go to the Theater again, and who -are we to go against her wishes? And anyhow, maybe if you met this -fellow and talked to him, you would find him a disapointment. Many -a pretty girl I have seen in my time, who didn't pan out acording -to specifications when I finaly met her." - -At this revalation of my beloved father's true self, I was almost -stuned. It is evadent that I do not inherit my being true as steal -from him. Nor from my mother, who is like steal in hardness but not -in being true to anything but Social Position. - -As I record this awfull day, dear Dairy, there comes again into my -mind the thought that I DO NOT BELONG HERE. I am not like them. I -do not even resemble them in features. And, if I belonged to them, -would they not treat me with more consideration and less disipline? -Who, in the Familey, has my noze? - -It is all well enough for Hannah to observe that I was a pretty -baby with fat cheaks. May not Hannah herself, for some hiden -reason, have brought me here, taking away the real I to perhaps -languish unseen and "waste my sweetness on the dessert air"? But -that way lies madness. Life must be made the best of as it is, and -not as it might be or indeed ought to be. - -Father promised before he left that I was not to be scolded, as I -felt far from well, and was drinking water about every minute. - -"I just want to lie here and think about things," I said, when he -was going. "I seem to have so many thoughts. And father----" - -"Yes, chicken." - -"If I need any help to carry out a plan I have, will you give it to -me, or will I have to go to totle strangers?" - -"Good gracious, Bab!" he exclaimed. "Come to me, of course." - -"And you'll do what you're told?" - -He looked out into the hall to see if mother was near. Then, dear -Dairy, he turned to me and said: - -"I always have, Bab. I guess I'll run true to form." - - -JANUARY 23RD. Much better today. Out and around. Familey (mother -and Sis) very dignafied and nothing much to say. Evadently have -promised father to restrain themselves. Father rushed and not -coming home to dinner. - -Beresford on edge of proposeing. Sis very jumpy. - - -LATER: Jane Raleigh is home for her couzin's wedding! Is coming -over. We shall take a walk, as I have much to tell her. - - -6 P. M. What an afternoon! How shall I write it? This is a -Milestone in my Life. - -I have met him at last. Nay, more. I have been in his dressing -room, conversing as though acustomed to such things all my life. I -have conceled under the mattress a real photograph of him, beneath -which he has written Yours always, Adrian Egleston." - -I am writing in bed, as the room is chilley--or I am--and by -putting out my hand I can touch His pictured likeness. - -Jane came around for me this afternoon, and mother consented to a -walk. I did not have a chance to take Sis's pink hat, as she keeps -her door locked now when not in her room. Which is rediculous, -because I am not her tipe, and her things do not suit me very well -anyhow. And I have never borowed anything but gloves and -handkercheifs, except Maidie's dress and the hat. - -She had, however, not locked her bathroom, and finding a bunch of -violets in the washbowl I put them on. It does not hurt violets to -wear them, and anyhow I knew Carter Brooks had sent them and she -ought to wear only Beresford's flowers if she means to marry him. - -Jane at once remarked that I looked changed. - -"Naturaly," I said, in a BLASE maner. - -"If I didn't know you, Bab," she observed, "I would say that you -are rouged." - -I became very stiff and distant at that. For Jane, although my best -friend, had no right to be suspicous of me. - -"How do I look changed?" I demanded. - -"I don't know. You--Bab, I beleive you are up to some mischeif!" - -"Mischeif?" - -"You don't need to pretend to me," she went on, looking into my -very soul. "I have eyes. You're not decked out this way for ME." - -I had meant to tell her nothing, but spying just then a man ahead -who walked like Adrian, I was startled. I cluched her arm and -closed my eyes. - -"Bab!" she said. - -The man turned, and I saw it was not he. I breathed again. But Jane -was watching me, and I spoke out of an overflowing Heart. - -"For a moment I thought--Jane, I have met THE ONE at last." - -"Barbara!" she said, and stopped dead. "Is it any one I know?" - -"He is an Actor." - -"Ye gods!" said Jane, in a tence voice. "What a tradgedy!" - -"Tradgedy indeed," I was compeled to admit. "Jane, my Heart is -breaking. I am not alowed to see him. It is all off, forever." - -"Darling!" said Jane. "You are trembling all over. Hold on to me. -Do they disaprove?" - -"I am never to see him again. Never." - -The bitterness of it all overcame me. My eves sufused with tears. - -But I told her, in broken accents, of my determination to stick to -him, no matter what. I might never be Mrs. Adrian Egleston, but----" - -"Adrian Egleston!" she cried, in amazement. "Why BARBARA, -you lucky Thing!" - -So, finding her fuller of simpathy than usual, I violated my Vow of -Silence and told her all. - -And, to prove the truth of what I said, I showed her the sachet -over my heart containing his rose. - -"It's perfectly wonderfull," Jane said, in an awed tone. "You beat -anything I've ever known for Adventures. You are the tipe men like, -for one thing. But there is one thing I could not stand, in your -place--having to know that he is making love to the heroine every -evening and twice on Wednesdays and--Bab, this is WEDNESDAY!" - -I glansed at my wrist watch. It was but to o'clock. Instantly, dear -Dairy, I became conscious of a dual going on within me, between -love and duty. Should I do as instructed and see him no more, thus -crushing my inclination under the iron heal of Resolution? Or -should I cast my Parents to the winds, and go? - -Which? - -At last I desided to leave it to Jane. I observed: "I'm forbiden to -try to see him. But I darsay, if you bought some theater tickets -and did not say what the play was, and we went and it happened to -be his, it would not be my fault, would it?" - -I cannot recall her reply, or much more, except that I waited in a -Pharmasy, and Jane went out, and came back and took me by the arm. - -"We're going to the matinee, Bab," she said. "I'll not tell you -which one, because it's to be a surprize." She squeazed my arm. -"First row," she whispered. - -I shall draw a Veil over my feelings. Jane bought some chocolates -to take along, but I could eat none. I was thirsty, but not hungry. -And my cold was pretty bad, to. - -So we went in, and the curtain went up. When Adrian saw me, in the -front row, he smiled although in the midst of a serious speach -about the world oweing him a living. And Jane was terrably excited. - -"Isn't he the handsomest Thing!" she said. "And oh, Bab, I can see -that he adores you. He is acting for you. All the rest of the -people mean nothing to him. He sees but you." - -Well, I had not told her that we had not yet met, and she said I -could do nothing less than send him a note. - -"You ought to tell him that you are true, in spite of everything," -she said. - -If I had not decieved Jane things would be better. But she was set -on my sending the note. So at last I wrote one on my visiting card, -holding it so she could not read it. Jane is my best friend and I -am devoted to her, but she has no scruples about reading what is -not meant for her. I said: - - -"Dear Mr. Egleston: I think the Play is perfectly wonderfull. And -you are perfectly splendid in it. It is perfectly terrable that it -is going to stop. - "(Signed) The girl of the rose." - - -I know that this seems bold. But I did not feel bold, dear Dairy. -It was such a letter as any one might read, and contained nothing -compromizing. Still, I darsay I should not have written it. But -"out of the fulness of the Heart the mouth speaketh." - -I was shaking so much that I could not give it to the usher. But -Jane did. However, I had sealed it up in an envelope. - -Now comes the real surprize, dear Dairy. For the usher came down -and said Mr. Egleston hoped I would go back and see him after the -act was over. I think a paller must have come over me, and Jane said: - -"Bab! Do you dare?" - -I said yes, I dared, but that I would like a glass of water. I -seemed to be thirsty all the time. So she got it, and I recovered -my SAVOIR FAIR, and stopped shaking. - -I suppose Jane expected to go along, but I refrained from asking -her. She then said: - -"Try to remember everything he says, Bab. I am just crazy about it." - -Ah, dear Dairy, how can I write how I felt when being led to him. -The entire seen is engraved on my Soul. I, with my very heart in my -eyes, in spite of my eforts to seem cool and collected. He, in -front of his mirror, drawing in the lines of starvation around his -mouth for the next seen, while on his poor feet a valet put the -raged shoes of Act II! - -He rose when I entered, and took me by the hand. - -"Well!" he said. "At last!" - -He did not seem to mind the VALET, whom he treated like a chair or -table. And he held my hand and looked deep into my eyes. - -Ah, dear Dairy, Men may come and Men may go in my life, but never -again will I know such ecstacy as at that moment. - -"Sit down," he said. "Little Lady of the rose--but it's violets -today, isn't it? And so you like the Play?" - -I was by that time somwhat calmer, but glad to sit down, owing to -my knees feeling queer. - -"I think it is magnifacent," I said. - -"I wish there were more like you," he observed. "Just a moment, I -have to make a change here. No need to go out. There's a screan for -that very purpose." - -He went behind the screan, and the man handed him a raged shirt -over the top of it, while I sat in a chair and dreamed. What I -reflected, would the School say if it but knew! I felt no remorce. -I was there, and beyond the screan, changing into the garments of -penury, was the only member of the Other Sex I had ever felt I -could truly care for. - -Dear Dairy, I am tired and my head aches. I cannot write it all. He -was perfectly respectfull, and only his eyes showed his true -feelings. The woman who is the Adventuress in the play came to the -Door, but he motioned her away with a waive of the hand. And at -last it was over, and he was asking me to come again soon, and if -I wou1d care to have one of his pictures. - -I am very sleepy tonight, but I cannot close this record of a -w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l d-a-y---- - - -JANUARY 24TH. Cold worse. - -Not hearing from Carter Brooks I telephoned him just now. He is -sore about Beresford and said he would not come to the house. So I -have asked him to meet me in the Park, and said that there were -only to more days, this being Thursday. - - -LATER: I have seen Carter, and he has a fine plan. If only father -will do it. - -He says the Theme is that the world owes Adrian a living, and that -the way to do is to put that strongly before the people. - -"Suppose," he said, "that this fellow would go to some big factery, -and demand work. Not ask for it. Demand it. He could pretend to be -starving and say: `The world owes me a living, and I intend to have it.'" - -"But supose they were sorry for him and gave it to him?" I observed. - -"Tut, child," he said. "That would have to be all fixed up first. -It ought to be aranged that he not only be refused, but what's -more, that he'll be thrown out. He'll have to cut up a lot, d'you -see, so they'll throw him out. And we'll have Reporters there, so -the story can get around. You get it, don't you? Your friend, in -order to prove that the idea of the Play is right, goes out for a -job, and proves that he cannot demand Laber and get it." He stopped -and spoke with excitement: "Is he a real sport? Would he stand -being arested? Because that would cinch it." - -But here I drew a line. I would not subject him to such humiliation. -I would not have him arested. And at last Carter gave in. - -"But you get the Idea," he said. "There'll be the deuce of a Row, -and it's good for a half collumn on the first page of the evening -papers. Result, a jamb that night at the performence, and a new -lease of life for the Play. Egleston comes on, bruized and -battered, and perhaps with a limp. The Labor Unions take up the -matter--it's a knock out. I'd charge a thousand dollars for that -idea if I were selling it." - -"Bruized!" I exclaimed. "Realy bruized or painted on?" - -He glared at me impatiently. - -"Now see here, Bab," he said. "I'm doing this for you. You've got -to play up. And if your young man won't stand a bang in the eye, -for instanse, to earn his Bread and Butter, he's not worth saving." - -"Who are you going to get to--to throw him out?" I asked, in a -faltering tone. - -He stopped and stared at me. - -"I like that!" he said. "It's not my Play that's failing, is it? Go -and tell him the Skeme, and then let his manager work it out. And -tell him who I am, and that I have a lot of Ideas, but this is the -only one I'm giving away." - -We had arived at the house by that time and I invited him to come -in. But he only glansed bitterly at the Windows and observed that -they had taken in the mat with Welcome on it, as far as he was -concerned. And went away. - -Although we have never had a mat with Welcome on it. - -Dear Dairy, I wonder if father would do it? He is gentle and -kind-hearted, and it would be painfull to him. But to who else can -I turn in my extremity? - -I have but one hope. My father is like me. He can be coaxed and if -kindly treated will do anything. But if aproached in the wrong way, -or asked to do somthing against his principals, he becomes a -Roaring Lion. - -He would never be bully-ed into giving a Man work, even so touching -a Personallity as Adrian's. - - -LATER: I meant to ask father tonight, but he has just heard of -Beresford and is in a terrable temper. He says Sis can't marry him, -because he is sure there are plenty of things he could be doing in -England, if not actualy fighting. - -"He could probably run a bus, and releace some one who can fight," -he shouted. "Or he could at least do an honest day's work with his -hands. Don't let me see him, that's all." - -"Do I understand that you forbid him the house?" Leila asked, in a -cold furey. - -"Just keep him out of my sight," father snaped. "I supose I can't -keep him from swilling tea while I am away doing my part to help -the Allies" - -"Oh, rot!" said Sis, in a scornfull maner. "While you help your -bank account, you mean. I don't object to that, father, but for -Heaven's sake don't put it on altruistic grounds." - -She went upstairs then and banged her door, and mother merely set -her lips and said nothing. But when Beresford called, later, Tanney -had to tell him the Familey was out. - -Were it not for our afections, and the necessity for getting -married, so there would be an increase in the Population, how happy -we could all be! - - -LATER: I have seen father. - -It was a painfull evening, with Sis shut away in her room, and -father cuting the ends off cigars in a viscious maner. Mother was -NON EST, and had I not had my memories, it would have been a -Sickning Time. - -I sat very still and waited until father softened, which he usualy -does, like ice cream, all at once and all over. I sat perfectly -still in a large chair, and except for an ocasional sneaze, was quiet. - -Only once did my parent adress me in an hour, when he said: - -"What the devil's making you sneaze so?" - -"My noze, I think, sir," I said meekly. - -"Humph!" he said. "It's rather a small noze to be making such a racket." - -I was cut to the heart, dear Dairy. One of my dearest dreams has -always been a delicate noze, slightly arched and long enough to be -truly aristocratic. Not realy acqualine but on the verge. I HATE my -little noze--hate it--hate it--HATE IT. - -"Father" I said, rising and on the point of tears. "How can you! To -taunt me with what is not my own fault, but partly heredatary and -partly carelessness. For if you had pinched it in infansy it would -have been a good noze, and not a pug. And----" - -"Good gracious!" he exclaimed. "Why, Bab, I never meant to insult -your noze. As a matter of fact, it's a good noze. It's exactly the -sort of noze you ought to have. Why, what in the world would YOU do -with a Roman noze?" - -I have not been feeling very well, dear Dairy, and so I sudenly -began to weap. - -"Why, chicken!" said my father. And made me sit down on his knee. -"Don't tell me that my bit of sunshine is behind a cloud!" - -"Behind a noze," I said, feebly. - -So he said he liked my noze, even although somwhat swolen, and he -kissed it, and told me I was a little fool, and at last I saw he -was about ready to be tackeled. So I observed: - -"Father, will you do me a faver?" - -"Sure," he said. "How much do you need? Busness is pretty good now, -and I've about landed the new order for shells for the English War -Department. I--supose we make it fifty! Although, we'd better keep -it a Secret between the to of us." - -I drew myself up, although tempted. But what was fifty dollars to -doing somthing for Adrian? A mere bagatelle. - -"Father," I said, "do you know Miss Everett, my English teacher?" - -He remembered the name. - -"Would you be willing to do her a great favor?" I demanded intencely. - -"What sort of a favor?" - -"Her couzin has written a play. She is very fond of her couzin, and -anxious to have him suceed. And it is a lovely play." - -He held me off and stared at me. - -"So THAT is what you were doing in that box alone!" he exclaimed. -"You incomprehensable child! Why didn't you tell your mother?" - -"Mother does not always understand," I said, in a low voice. "I -thought, by buying a Box, I would do my part to help Miss Everett's -couzin's play suceed. And as a result I was draged home, and -shamefully treated in the most mortafying maner. But I am acustomed -to brutalaty." - -"Oh, come now," he said. "I wouldn't go as far as that, chicken. -Well, I won't finanse the play, but short of that I'll do what I can." - -However he was not so agreable when I told him Carter Brooks' plan. -He delivered a firm no. - -"Although," he said, "sombody ought to do it, and show the falasy -of the Play. In the first place, the world doesn't owe the fellow -a living, unless he will hustel around and make it. In the second -place an employer has a right to turn away a man he doesn't want. -No one can force Capitle to employ Labor." - -"Well," I said, "as long as Labor talks and makes a lot of noise, -and Capitle is to dignafied to say anything, most people are going -to side with Labor." - -He gazed at me. - -"Right!" he said. "You've put your finger on it, in true femanine -fashion." - -"Then why won't you throw out this man when he comes to you for -Work? He intends to force you to employ him." - -"Oh, he does, does he?" said father, in a feirce voice. "Well, let -him come. I can stand up for my Principals, to. I'll throw him out, -all right." - -Dear Dairy, the battle is over and I have won. I am very happy. How -true it is that strategy will do more than violance! - -We have aranged it all. Adrian is to go to the mill, dressed like -a decayed Gentleman, and father will refuse to give him work. I -have said nothing about violance, leaving that to arange itself. - -I must see Adrian and his manager. Carter has promised to tell some -reporters that there may be a story at the mill on Saturday -morning. I am to excited to sleep. - -Feel horid. Forbiden to go out this morning. - - -JANUARY 25TH. Beresford was here to lunch and he and mother and Sis -had a long talk. He says he has kept it a secret because he did not -want his Busness known. But he is here to place a shell order for -the English War Department. - -"Well," Leila said, "I can hardly wait to tell father and see him -curl up." - -"No, no," said Beresford, hastily. "Realy you must allow me I must -inform him myself. I am sure you can see why. This is a thing for -men to settle. Besides, it is a delacate matter. Mr. Archibald is -trying to get the Order, and our New York office, if I am willing, -is ready to place it with him." - -"Well!" said Leila, in a thunderstruck tone. "If you British don't -beat anything for keeping your own Counsel!" - -I could see that he had her hand under the table. It was sickning. - -Jane came to see me after lunch. The wedding was that night, and I -had to sit through silver vegatable dishes, and after-dinner coffee -sets and plates and a grand piano and a set of gold vazes and a -cabushon saphire and the bridesmaid's clothes and the wedding -supper and heaven knows what. But at last she said: - -"You dear thing--how weary and wan you look!" - -I closed my eyes. - -"But you don't intend to give him up, do you?" - -"Look at me!" I said, in imperious tones. "Do I look like one who -would give him up, because of Familey objections?" - -"How brave you are!" she observed. "Bab, I am green with envy. When -I think of the way he looked at you, and the tones of his voice -when he made love to that--that creature, I am posatively SHAKEN." - -We sat in somber silence. Then she said: - -"I darsay he detests the Heroine, doesn't he?" - -"He tolarates her," I said, with a shrug. - -More silense. I rang for Hannah to bring some ice water. We were in -my BOUDOIR. - -"I saw him yesterday," said Jane, when Hannah had gone. - -"Jane!" - -"In the park. He was with the woman that plays the Adventuress. -Ugly old thing." - -I drew a long breath of relief. For I knew that the Adventuress was -at least thirty and perhaps more. Besides being both wicked and -cruel, and not at all femanine. - -Hannah brought the ice-water and then came in the most madening way -and put her hand on my Forehead. - -"I've done nothing but bring you ice-water for to days," she said. -"Your head's hot. I think you need a musterd foot bath and to go to bed." - -"Hannah," Jane said, in her loftyest fashion, "Miss Barbara is -woried, not ill. And please close the door when you go out." - -Which was her way of telling Hannah to go. Hannah glared at her. - -"If you take my advice, Miss Jane," she said. "You'll keep away -from Miss Barbara." - -And she went out, slaming the door. - -"Well!" gasped Jane. "Such impertanence. Old servant or not, she -ought to have her mouth slaped." - -Well, I told Jane the plan and she was perfectly crazy about it. I -had a headache, but she helped me into my street things, and got -Sis's rose hat for me while Sis was at the telephone. Then we went out. - -First we telephoned Carter Brooks, and he said tomorrow morning -would do, and he'd give a couple of reporters the word to hang -around father's office at the mill. He said to have Adrian there at -ten o'clock. - -"Are you sure your father will do it?" he asked. "We don't want a -flivver, you know." - -"He's making a principal of it," I said. "When he makes a principal -of a thing, he does it." - -"Good for father!" Carter said. "Tell him not to be to gentle. And -tell your Actor-friend to make a lot of fuss. The more the better. -I'll see the Policeman at the mill, and he'll probably take him up. -But we'll get him out for the matinee. And watch the evening papers." - -It was then that a terrable thought struck me. What if Adrian -considered it beneath his profession to advertize, even if -indirectly? What if he prefered the failure of Miss Everett's -couzin's play to a bruize on the eye? What, in short, if he refused? - -Dear Dairy, I was stupafied. I knew not which way to turn. For Men -are not like Women, who are dependible and anxious to get along, -and will sacrifise anything for Success. No, men are likely to turn -on the ones they love best, if the smallest Things do not suit -them, such as cold soup, or sleaves to long from the shirt-maker, -or plans made which they have not been consulted about beforhand. - -"Darling!" said Jane, as I turned away, "you look STRICKEN!" - -"My head aches," I said, with a weary gesture toward my forehead. -It did ache, for that matter. It is acheing now, dear Dairy. - -However, I had begun my task and must go through with it. -Abandoning Jane at a corner, in spite of her calling me cruel and -even sneeking, I went to Adrian's hotel, which I had learned of -during my SEANCE in his room while he was changing his garments -behind a screan, as it was marked on a dressing case. - -It was then five o'clock. - -How nervous I felt as I sent up my name to his chamber. Oh, dear -Dairy, to think that it was but five hours ago that I sat and -waited, while people who guessed not the inner trepadation of my -heart past and repast, and glansed at me and at Leila's pink hat above. - -At last he came. My heart beat thunderously, as he aproached, -strideing along in that familiar walk, swinging his strong and -tender arms. And I! I beheld him coming and could think of not a -word to say. - -"Well!" he said, pausing in front of me. "I knew I was going to be -lucky today. Friday is my best day." - -"I was born on Friday," I said. I could think of nothing else. - -"Didn't I say it was my lucky day? But you mustn't sit here. What -do you say to a cup of tea in the restarant?" - -How grown up and like a DEBUTANTE I felt, dear Dairy, going to have -tea as if I had it every day at School, with a handsome actor -across! Although somwhat uneasy also, owing to the posibility of -the Familey coming in. But it did not and I had a truly happy hour, -not at all spoiled by looking out the window and seeing Jane going -by, with her eyes popping out, and walking very slowly so I would -invite her to come in. - -WHICH I DID NOT. - -Dear Dairy, HE WILL DO IT. At first he did not understand, and -looked astounded. But when I told him of Carter being in the -advertizing busness, and father owning a large mill, and that there -would be reporters and so on, he became thoughtfull. - -"It's realy incredably clever," he said. "And if it's pulled off -right it ought to be a Stampede. But I'd like to see Mr. Brooks. We -can't have it fail, you know." He leaned over the table. "It's -straight goods, is it, Miss er--Barbara? There's nothing foney -about it?" - -"Foney!" I said, drawing back. "Certainly not." - -He kept on leaning over the table. - -"I wonder," he said, "what makes you so interested in the Play?" - -Oh, Dairy, Dairy! - -And just then I looked up, and the Adventuress was staring in the -door at me with the MEANEST look on her face. - -I draw a Veil over the remainder of our happy hour. Suffice it to -say that he considers me exactly the tipe he finds most atractive, -and that he does not consider my noze to short. We had a long -dispute about this. He thinks I am wrong and says I am not an -acquiline tipe. He says I am romantic and of a loving disposition. -Also somwhat reckless, and he gave me good advice about doing what -my Familey consider for my good, at least until I come out. - -But our talk was all to short, for a fat man with three rings on -came in, and sat down with us, and ordered a whiskey and soda. My -blood turned cold, for fear some one I knew would come in and see -me sitting there in a drinking party. - -And my blood was right to turn cold. For, just as he had told the -manager about the arangement I had made, and the manager said -"Bully" and raised his glass to drink to me I looked across and -there was mother's aunt, old Susan Paget, sitting near, with the -most awfull face I ever saw! - -I colapsed in my chair. - -Dear Dairy, I only remember saying, "Well, remember, ten o'clock. -And dress up like a Gentleman in hard luck," and his saying: "Well, -I hope I'm a Gentleman, and the hard luck's no joke," and then I -went away. - -And now, dear Dairy, I am in bed, and every time the telephone -rings I have a chill. And in between times I drink ice-water and -sneaze. How terrable a thing is Love. - - -LATER: I can hardly write. Switzerland is a settled thing. Father -is not home tonight and I cannot apeal to him. Susan Paget said I -was drinking to, and mother is having the vibrater used on her -spine. If I felt better I would run away. - - -JANUARY 26TH. How can I write what has happened? It is so terrable. - -Beresford went at ten o'clock to ask for Leila, and did not send in -his card for fear father would refuse to see him. And father -thought, from his saying that he had come to ask for somthing, and -so on, that it was Adrian, and threw him out. He ordered him out -first, and Beresford refused to go, and they had words, and then -there was a fight. The Reporters got it, and it is in all the -papers. Hannah has just brought one in. It is headed "Manufacturer -assaults Peer." Leila is in bed, and the doctor is with her. - - -LATER: Adrian has disapeared. The manager has just called up, and -with shaking knees I went to the telephone. Adrian went to the mill -a little after ten, and has not been seen since. - -It is in vain I protest that he has not eloped with me. It is -almost time now for the Matinee and no Adrian. What shall I do? - - -SATURDAY, 11 P.M. Dear Dairy, I have the meazles. I am all broken -out, and look horible. But what is a sickness of the Body compared -to the agony of my Mind? Oh, dear Dairy, to think of what has -happened since last I saw your stainless Pages! - -What is a sickness to a broken heart? And to a heart broken while -trying to help another who did not deserve to be helped. But if he -decieved me, he has paid for it, and did until he was rescued at -ten o'clock tonight. - -I have been given a sleeping medacine, and until it takes affect I -shall write out the tradgedy of this day, omiting nothing. The -trained nurse is asleep on a cot, and her cap is hanging on the -foot of the bed. - -I have tried it on, dear Dairy, and it is very becoming. If they -insist on Switzerland I think I shall run away and be a trained -nurse. It is easy work, although sleeping on a cot is not always -comfortible. But at least a trained nurse leads her own Life and is -not bully-ed by her Familey. And more, she does good constantly. - -I feel tonight that I should like to do good, and help the sick, -and perhaps go to the Front. I know a lot of college men in the -American Ambulence. - -I shall never go on the stage, dear Dairy. I know now its -decietfullness and visisitudes. My heart has bled until it can -bleed no more, as a result of a theatricle Adonis. I am through -with the theater forever. - -I shall begin at the beginning. I left off where Adrian had disapeared. - -Although feeling very strange, and looking a queer red color in my -mirror, I rose and dressed myself. I felt that somthing had -slipped, and I must find Adrian. (It is strange with what coldness -I write that once beloved name.) - -While dressing I percieved that my chest and arms were covered with -small red dots, but I had no time to think of myself. I sliped -downstairs and outside the drawing room I heard mother conversing -in a loud and angry tone with a visitor. I glansed in, and ye gods! - -It was the Adventuress. - -Drawing somwhat back, I listened. Oh, Dairy, what a revalation! - -"But I MUST see her," she was saying. "Time is flying. In a half -hour the performance begins, and--he cannot be found." - -"I can't understand," mother said, in a stiff maner. "What can my -daughter Barbara know about him?" - -The Adventuress snifed. "Humph!" she said. "She knows, all right. -And I'd like to see her in a hurry, if she is in the house." - -"Certainly she is in the house," said mother. - -"ARE YOU SURE OF THAT? Because I have every reason to beleive she -has run away with him. She has been hanging around him all week, -and only yesterday afternoon I found them together. She had some -sort of a Skeme, he said afterwards, and he wrinkled a coat under -his mattress last night. He said it was to look as if he had slept -in it. I know nothing further of your daughter's Skeme. But I know -he went out to meet her. He has not been seen since. His manager -has hunted for to hours." - -"Just a moment," said mother, in a fridgid tone. "Am I to -understand that this--this Mr. Egleston is----" - -"He is my Husband." - -Ah, dear Dairy, that I might then and there have passed away. But -I did not. I stood there, with my heart crushed, until I felt -strong enough to escape. Then I fled, like a Gilty Soul. It was gastly. - -On the doorstep I met Jane. She gazed at me strangely when she saw -my face, and then cluched me by the arm. - -"Bab!" she cried. "What on the earth is the matter with your complexion?" - -But I was desparate. - -"Let me go!" I said. "Only lend me two dollars for a taxi and let -me go. Somthing horible has happened." - -She gave me ninety cents, which was all she had, and I rushed down -the street, followed by her peircing gaze. - -Although realizing that my Life, at least the part of it pertaining -to sentament, was over, I knew that, single or married, I must find -him. I could not bare to think that I, in my desire to help, had -ruined Miss Everett's couzin's play. Luckaly I got a taxi at the -corner, and I ordered it to drive to the mill. I sank back, bathed -in hot persparation, and on consulting my bracelet watch found I -had but twenty five minutes until the curtain went up. - -I must find him, but where and how! I confess for a moment that I -doubted my own father, who can be very feirce on ocasion. What if, -madened by his mistake about Beresford, he had, on being aproached -by Adrian, been driven to violance? What if, in my endeaver to help -one who was unworthy, I had led my poor paternal parent into crime? - - Hell is paved with good intentions. - SAMUEL JOHNSTON. - - -On driving madly into the mill yard, I sudenly remembered that it -was Saturday and a half holaday. The mill was going, but the -offices were closed. Father, then, was imured in the safety of his -Club, and could not be reached except by pay telephone. And the -taxi was now ninty cents. - -I got out, and paid the man. I felt very dizzy and queer, and was -very thirsty, so I went to the hydrent in the yard and got a drink -of water. I did not as yet suspect meazles, but laid it all to my -agony of mind. - -Haveing thus refreshed myself, I looked about, and saw the yard -Policeman, a new one who did not know me, as I am away at school -most of the time, and the Familey is not expected to visit the -mill, because of dirt and possable accidents. - -I aproached him, however, and he stood still and stared at me. - -"Officer" I said, in my most dignafied tones. "I am looking for -a--for a Gentleman who came here this morning to look for work." - -"There was about two hundred lined up here this morning, Miss," he -said. "Which one would it be, now?" - -How my heart sank! - -"About what time would he be coming?" he said. "Things have been -kind of mixed-up around here today, owing to a little trouble this -morning. But perhaps I'll remember him." - -But, although Adrian is of an unusual tipe, I felt that I could not -describe him, besides having a terrable headache. So I asked if he -would lend me carfare, which he did with a strange look. - -"You're not feeling sick, Miss, are you?" he said. But I could not -stay to converce, as it was then time for the curtain to go up, and -still no Adrian. - -I had but one refuge in mind, Carter Brooks, and to him I fled on -the wings of misery in the street car. I burst into his advertizing -office like a furey. - -"Where is he?" I demanded. "Where have you and your plotting hidden him?" - -"Who? Beresford?" he asked in a placid maner. "He is at his hotel, -I beleive, putting beefstake on a bad eye. Beleive me, Bab----" - -"Beresford!" I cried, in scorn and wrechedness. "What is he to me? -Or his eye either? I refer to Mr. Egleston. It is time for the -curtain to go up now, and unless he has by this time returned, -there can be no performence." - -"Look here," Carter said sudenly, "you look awfuly queer, Bab. Your -face----" - -I stamped my foot. - -"What does my face matter?" I demanded. "I no longer care for him, -but I have ruined Miss Everett's couzin's play unless he turns up. -Am I to be sent to Switzerland with that on my Soul?" - -"Switzerland!" he said slowly. "Why, Bab, they're not going to do -that, are they? I--I don't want you so far away." - -Dear Dairy, I am unsuspisious by nature, beleiving all mankind to -be my friends until proven otherwise. But there was a gloating look -in Carter Brooks' eyes as they turned on me. - -"Carter!" I said, "you know where he is and you will not tell me. -You WISH to ruin him." - -I was about to put my hand on his arm, but he drew away. - -"Look here," he said. "I'll tell you somthing, but please keep -back. Because you look like smallpox to me. I was at the mill this -morning. I do not know anything about your Actor-friend. He's -probably only been run over or somthing. But I saw Beresford going -in, and I--well, I sugested that he'd better walk in on your father -or he wouldn't get in. It worked, Bab. HOW IT DID WORK! He went in -and said he had come to ask your father for somthing, and your -father blew up by saying that he knew about it, but that the world -only owed a living to the man who would hustle for it, and that he -would not be forced to take any one he did not want. - -"And in to minutes Beresford hit him, and got a responce. It was a -Million dollars worth." - -So he babbled on. But what were his words to me? - -Dear Dairy, I gave no thought to the smallpox he had mentioned, -although fatle to the complexion. Or to the fight at the mill. I -heard only Adrian's possable tradgic fate. Sudenly I colapsed, and -asked for a drink of water, feeling horible, very wobbley and -unable to keep my knees from bending. - -And the next thing I remember is father taking me home, and -Adrian's fate still a deep mystery, and remaining such, while I had -a warm sponge to bring out the rest of the rash, folowed by a -sleep--it being meazles and not smallpox. - -Oh, dear Dairy, what a story I learned when haveing wakened and -feeling better, my father came tonight and talked to me from the -doorway, not being allowed in. - -Adrian had gone to the mill, and father, haveing thrown Beresford -out and asserted his principals, had not thrown him out, BUT HAD -GIVEN HIM A JOB IN THE MILL. And the Policeman had given him no -chance to escape, which he atempted. He was dragged to the shell -plant and there locked in, because of spies. The plant is under -Milatary Guard. - -AND THERE HE HAD BEEN COMPELED TO DRAG A WHEELBARROW BACK AND -FORTH, CONTAINING CHARCOAL FOR A SMALL FURNASE, FOR HOURS! - -Even when Carter found him he could not be releaced, as father was in -hiding from Reporters, and would not go to the telephone or see callers. - -HE LABORED UNTIL TEN P. M., while the theater remained dark, and -people got their money back. - -I have ruined him. I have also ruined Miss Everett's couzin. - - * * * - - -The nurse is still asleep. I think I will enter a hospitle. My -career is ended, my Life is blasted. - -I reach under the mattress and draw out the picture of him who -today I have ruined, compeling him to do manual labor for hours, -although unacustomed to it. He is a great actor, and I beleive has -a future. But my love for him is dead. Dear Dairy, he decieved me, -and that is one thing I cannot forgive. - -So now I sit here among my pillows, while the nurse sleeps, and I reflect -about many Things. But one speach rings in my ears over and over. - -Carter Brooks, on learning about Switzerland, said it in a strange -maner, looking at me with inscrutible eyes. - -"Switzerland! Why, Bab--I don't want you to go so far away." - -WHAT DID HE MEAN BY IT? - - * * * - -Dear Dairy, you will have to be burned, I darsay. Perhaps it is as -well. I have p o r e d out my H-e-a-r-t---- - - - -CHAPTER IV - -BAB'S BURGLAR - -MONEY is the root of all Evil." - -I do not know who said the above famous words, but they are true. -I know it but to well. For had I never gone on an Allowence, and -been in debt and always worried about the way silk stockings wear -out, et cetera, I would be having a much better time. For who can -realy enjoy a dress when it is not paid for or only partialy so? - -I have decided to write out this story, which is true in every -particuler, except here and there the exact words of conversation, -and then sell it to a Magazine. I intend to do this for to reasons. -First, because I am in Debt, especialy for to tires, and second, -because parents will then read it, and learn that it is not -possable to make a good appearence, including furs, theater tickets -and underwear, for a Thousand Dollars a year, even if one wears -plain uncouth things beneath. I think this, too. My mother does not -know how much clothes and other things, such as manacuring, cost -these days. She merely charges things and my father gets the bills. -Nor do I consider it fair to expect me to atend Social Functions -and present a good appearence on a small Allowence, when I would -often prefer a simple game of tennis or to lie in a hammick, or to -converce with some one I am interested in, of the Other Sex. - -It was mother who said a Thousand dollars a year and no extras. But -I must confess that to me, after ten dollars a month at school, it -seemed a large sum. I had but just returned for the summer -holadays, and the Familey was having a counsel about me. They -always have a counsel when I come home, and mother makes a list, -begining with the Dentist. - -"I should make it a Thousand," she said to father. "The chiid is in -shameful condition. She is never still, and she fidgits right -through her clothes." - -"Very well," said father, and got his Check Book. "That is $83.33 -1/3 cents a month. Make it thirty four cents. But no bills, Barbara." - -"And no extras," my mother observed, in a stern tone. - -"Candy, tennis balls and matinee tickets?" I asked. - -"All included," said father. "And Church collection also, and ice -cream and taxicabs and Xmas gifts." - -Although pretending to consider it small, I realy felt that it was -a large amount, and I was filled with joy when father ordered a -Check Book for me with my name on each Check. Ah, me! How happy I was! - -I was two months younger then and possably childish in some ways. -For I remember that in my exhiliration I called up Jane Raleigh the -moment she got home. She came over, and I showed her the book. - -"Bab!" she said. "A thousand dollars! Why, it is wealth." - -"It's not princly," I observed. "But it will do, Jane." - -We then went out and took a walk, and I treated her to a Facial -Masage, having one myself at the same time, having never been able -to aford it before. - -"It's Heavenley, Bab," Jane observed to me, through a hot towle. -"If I were you I should have one daily. Because after all, what are -features if the skin is poor?" - -We also had manacures, and as the young person was very nice, I -gave her a dollar. As I remarked to Jane, it had taken all the -lines out of my face, due to the Spring Term and examinations. And -as I put on my hat, I could see that it had done somthing else. For -the first time my face showed Character. I looked mature, if not, -indeed, even more. - -I paid by a Check, although they did not care about taking it, -prefering cash. But on calling up the Bank accepted it, and also -another check for cold cream, and a fancy comb. - -I had, as I have stated, just returned from my Institution of -Learning, and now, as Jane and I proceded to a tea place I had -often viewed with hungry eyes but no money to spend, it being -expencive, I suddenly said: - -"Jane, do you ever think how ungrateful we are to those who cherish -us through the school year and who, although stern at times, are -realy our Best Friends?" - -"Cherish us!" said Jane. "I haven't noticed any cherishing. They -tolarate me, and hardly that." - -"I fear you are pessamistic," I said, reproving her but mildly, for -Jane's school is well known to be harsh and uncompromizing. -"However, my own feelings to my Instructers are diferent and quite -friendly, especialy at a distance. I shall send them flowers." - -It was rather awful, however, after I had got inside the shop, to -find that violets, which I had set my heart on as being the school -flour, were five dollars a hundred. Also there were more teachers -than I had considered, some of them making but small impression on -account of mildness. - -THERE WERE EIGHT. - -"Jane!" I said, in desparation. "Eight without the housekeeper! And -she must be remembered because if not she will be most unpleasant -next fall, and swipe my chaffing dish. Forty five dollars is a lot -of Money." - -"You only have to do it once," said Jane, who could aford to be -calm, as it was costing her nothing. - -However, I sent the violets aud paid with a check. I felt better by -subtracting the amount from one thousand. I had still $945.00, less -the facials and so on, which had been ten. - -This is not a finantial story, although turning on Money. I do not -wish to be considered as thinking only of Wealth. Indeed, I have -always considered that where my heart was in question I would -always decide for Love and penury rather than a Castle and greed. -In this I differ from my sister Leila, who says that under no -circumstanses would she ever inspect a refrigerater to see if the -cook was wasting anything. - -I was not worried about the violets, as I consider Money spent as -but water over a damn, and no use worrying about. But I was no -longer hungry, and I observed this to Jane. - -"Oh, come on," she said, in an impatient maner. "I'll pay for it." - -I can read Jane's inmost thoughts, and I read them then. She -considered that I had cold feet financially, although with almost -$945.00 in the bank. Therefore I said at once: - -"Don't be silly. It is my party. And we'll take some candy home." - -However, I need not have worried, for we met Tommy Gray in the tea -shop, and he paid for everything. - -I pause here to reflect. How strange to look back, and think of all -that has since hapened, and that I then considered that Tommy Gray -was interested in Jane and never gave me a thought. Also that I -considered that the look he gave me now and then was but a friendly -glanse! Is it not strange that Romanse comes thus into our lives, -through the medium of a tea-cup, or an eclair, unheralded and -unsung, yet leaving us never the same again? - -Even when Tommy bought us candy and carried mine under his arm -while leaving Jane to get her own from the counter, I suspected -nothing. But when he said to me, "Gee, Bab, you're geting to be a -regular Person," and made no such remark to Jane, I felt that it -was rather pointed. - -Also, on walking up the Avenue, he certainly walked nearer me than -Jane. I beleive she felt it, to, for she made a sharp speach or to -about his Youth, and what he meant to do when he got big. And he -replied by saying that she was big enough allready, which hurt -because Jane is plump and will eat starches anyhow. - -Tommy Gray had improved a great deal since Xmas. He had at that -time apeared to long for his head. I said this to Jane, SOTO VOCE, -while he was looking at some neckties in a window. - -"Well, his head is big enough now," she said in a snapish maner. -"It isn't very long, Bab, since you considered him a mere Child." - -"He is twenty," I asserted, being one to stand up for my friends -under any and all circumstanses. - -Jane snifed. - -"Twenty!" she exclaimed. "He's not eighteen yet. His very noze -is imature." - -Our discourse was interupted by the object of it, who requested an -opinion on the ties. He ignored Jane entirely. - -We went in, and I purchaced a handsome tie for father, considering -it but right thus to show my apreciation of his giving me the Allowence. - -It was seventy five cents, and I made out a check for the amount -and took the tie with me. We left Jane soon after, as she insisted -on adressing Tommy as dear child, or "MON ENFANT," and strolled on -together, oblivious to the World, by the World forgot. Our -conversation was largely about ourselves, Tommv maintaining that I -gave an impression of fridgidity, and that all the College men -considered me so. - -"Better fridgidity," I retorted, "than softness. But I am sincere. -I stick to my friends through thick and thin." - -Here he observed that my Chin was romantic, but that my Ears were -stingy, being small and close to my head. This irratated me, -although glad they are small. So I bought him a gardenia to wear -from a flour-seller, but as the flour-seller refused a check, he -had to pay for it. - -In exchange he gave me his Frat pin to wear. - -"You know what that means, don't you, Bab?" he said, in a low and -thriling tone. "It means, if you wear it, that you are my--well, -you're my girl." - -Although thriled, I still retained my practacality. - -"Not exclusively, Tom," I said, in a firm tone. "We are both young, -and know little of Life. Some time, but not as yet." - -He looked at me with a searching glanse. - -"I'll bet you have a couple of dozen Frat pins lying around, Bab," -he said savigely. "You're that sort. All the fellows are sure to be -crasy about you. And I don't intend to be an Also-ran." - -"Perhaps," I observed, in my most dignafied maner. "But no one has -ever tried to bully me before. I may be young, but the Other Sex -have always treated me with respect." - -I then walked up the steps and into my home, leaving him on the -pavment. It was cruel, but I felt that it was best to start right. - -But I was troubled and DISTRAIT during dinner, which consisted of -mutton and custard, which have no appeal for me owing to having -them to often at school. For I had, although not telling an -untruth, allowed Tom to think that I had a dozen or so Frat pins, -although I had none at all. - -Still, I reflected, why not? Is it not the only way a woman can do -when in conflict with the Other Sex, to meet Wile with Gile? In -other words, to use her intellagence against brute force? I fear so. - -Men do not expect truth from us, so why disapoint them? - -During the salid mother inquired what I had done during the afternoon. - -"I made a few purchaces," I said. - -"I hope you bought some stockings and underclothes," she observed. -"Hannah cannot mend your chemises any more, and as for your----" - -"Mother!" I said, turning scarlet, for George--who was the Butler, -as Tanney had been found kissing Jane--was at that moment bringing -in the cheeze. - -"I am not going to interfere with your Allowence," she went on. -"But I recall very distinctly that during Leila's first year she -came home with three evening wraps and one nightgown, having to -borrow from one of her schoolmates, while that was being washed. I -feel that you should at least be warned." - -How could I then state that instead of bying nightgowns, et cetera, -I had been sending violets? I could not. If Life to my Familey was -a matter of petticoats, and to me was a matter of fragrant flours, -why cause them to suffer by pointing out the diference? - -I did not feel superior. Only diferent. - -That evening, while mother and Leila were out at a Festivaty, I -gave father his neck-tie. He was overcome with joy and for a moment -could not speak. Then he said: - -"Good gracious, Bab! What a--what a DIFERENT necktie." - -I explained my reasons for buying it for him, and also Tom Gray's -objecting to it as to juvenile. - -"Young impudense!" said father, refering to Tom. "I darsay I am -quite an old fellow to him. Tie it for me, Bab." - -"Though old of body, you are young in mentalaty," I said. But he -only laughed, and then asked about the pin, which I wore over my heart. - -"Where did you get that?" he asked in quite a feirce voice. - -I told him, but not quite all. It was the first time I had -concealed an AMOUR from my parents, having indeed had but few, and -I felt wicked and clandestine. But, alas, it is the way of the -heart to conceal its deepest feelings, save for blushes, which are -beyond bodily control. - -My father, however, mearly sighed and observed: - -"So it has come at last!" - -"What has come at last?" I asked, but feeling that he meant Love. -For although forty-two and not what he once was, he still remembers -his Youth. - -But he refused to anser, and inquired politely if I felt to much -grown-up, with the Allowence and so on, to be held on knees and -occasionaly tickeled, as in other days. - -Which I did not. - -That night I stood at the window of my Chamber and gazed with a -heaving heart at the Gray residense, which is next door. Often -before I had gazed at its walls, and considered them but brick and -morter, and needing paint. Now my emotions were diferent. I -realized that a House is but a shell, covering and protecting its -precious contents from weather and curious eyes, et cetera. - -As I stood there, I percieved a light in an upper window, where the -nursery had once been in which Tom--in those days when a child, -Tommy--and I had played as children, he frequently pulling my hair -and never thinking of what was to be. As I gazed, I saw a figure -come to the window and gaze fixedly at me. IT WAS HE. - -Hannah was in my room, making a list of six of everything which I -needed, so I dared not call out. But we exchanged gestures of -afection and trust across the void, and with a beating heart I -retired to bed. - -Before I slept, however, I put to myself this question, but found -no anser to it. How can it be that two people of Diferent Sexes can -know each other well, such as calling by first names and dancing -together at dancing school, and going to the same dentist, and so -on, and have no interest in each other except to have a partner at -parties or make up a set at tennis? And then nothing happens, but -there is a diference, and they are always hoping to meet on the -street or elsewhere, and although quareling sometimes when -together, are not happy when apart! How strange is Life! - -Hannah staid in my room that evening, fussing about my not hanging -up my garments when undressing. As she has lived with us for a long -time, and used to take me for walks when Mademoiselle had the -toothache, which was often, because she hated to walk, she knows -most of the Familey affairs, and is sometimes a nusance. - -So, while I said my prayers, she looked in my Check Book. I was -furious, and snached it from her, but she had allready seen to much. - -"Humph!" she said. "Well, all I've got to say is this, Miss Bab. -You'll last just twenty days at the rate you are going, and will -have to go stark naked all year." - -At this indelacate speach I ordered her out of the room, but she -only tucked the covers in and asked me if I had brushed my teeth. - -"You know," she said, "that you'll be coming to me for money when -you run out, Miss Bab, as you've always done, and expecting me to -patch and mend and make over your old things, when I've got my -hands full anyhow. And you with a Fortune fritered away." - -"I wish to think, Hannah," I said in a plaintive tone. "Please go -away." - -But she came and stood over me. - -"Now you're going to be a good girl this Summer and not give any -trouble, aren't you?" she asked. "Because we're upset enough as it -is, and your poor mother most distracted, without you're cutting -loose as usual and driving everybody crazy." - -I sat up in bed, forgetful that the window was now open for the -night, and that I was visable from the Gray's in my ROBE DE NUIT. - -"Whose distracted about what?" I asked. - -But Hannah would say no more, and left me a pray to doubt and fear. - -Alas, Hannah was right. There was something wrong in the house. -Coming home as I had done, full of the joy of no rising bell or -French grammar, or meat pie on Mondays from Sunday's roast, I had -noticed nothing. - -I fear I am one who lives for the Day only, and as such I beleive -that when people smile they are happy, forgetfull that to often a -smile conceals an aching and tempestuous Void within. - -Now I was to learn that the demon Strife had entered my domacile, -there to make his--or her--home. I do not agree with that poet, A. -J. Ryan, date forgoten, who observed: - - Better a day of strife - Than a Century of sleep. - - -Although naturaly no one wishes to sleep for a Century, or even -approxamately. - -There was Strife in the house. The first way I noticed it, aside -from Hannah's anonamous remark, was by observing that Leila was -mopeing. She acted very strangely, giving me a pair of pink hoze -without more than a hint on my part, and not sending me out of the -room when Carter Brooks came in to tea the next day. - -I had staid at home, fearing that if I went out I should purchace -some CREPE DE CHENE combinations I had been craving in a window, -and besides thinking it possable that Tom would drop in to renew our -relations of yesterday, not remembering that there was a Ball Game. - -Mother having gone out to the Country Club, I put my hair on top of -my head, thus looking as adult as possable. Taking a new detective -story of Jane's under my arm, I descended the staircase to the library. - -Sis was there, curled up in a chair, knitting for the soldiers. -Having forgoten the Ball Game, as I have stated, I asked her, in -case I had a caller, to go away, which, considering she has the -house to herself all winter, I considered not to much. - -"A caller!" she said. "Since when have you been allowed to have callers?" - -I looked at her steadily. - -"I am young," I observed, "and still in the school room, Leila. I -admit it, so don't argue. But as I have not taken the veil, and as -this is not a Penitentary, I darsav I can see my friends now and -anon, especialy when they live next door." - -"Oh!" she said. "It's the Gray infant, is it!" - -This remark being purely spiteful, I ignored it and sat down to my -book, which concerned the stealing of some famous Emerelds, the -heroine being a girl detective who could shoot the cork out of a -bottle at a great distance, and whose name was Barbara! - -It was for that reason Jane had loaned me the book. - -I had reached the place where the Duchess wore the Emerelds to a -ball, above white satin and lillies, the girl detective being -dressed as a man and driving her there, because the Duchess had -been warned and hautily refused to wear the paste copies she -had--when Sis said, peavishly: - -"Why don't you knit or do somthing useful, Bab?" - -I do not mind being picked on by my parents or teachers, knowing it -is for my own good. But I draw the line at Leila. So I replied: - -"Knit! If that's the scarf you were on at Christmas, and it looks -like it, because there's the crooked place you wouldn't fix, let me -tell you that since then I have made three socks, heals and all, -and they are probably now on the feet of the Allies." - -"Three!" she said. "Why THREE?" - -"I had no more wool, and there are plenty of one-leged men anyhow." - -I would fane have returned to my book, dreaming between lines, as -it were, of the Romanse which had come into my life the day before. -It is, I have learned, much more interesting to read a book when -one has, or is, experiencing the Tender Passion at the time. For -during the love seens one can then fancy that the impasioned -speaches are being made to oneself, by the object of one's -afection. In short, one becomes, even if but a time, the Heroine. - -But I was to have no privacy. - -"Bab," Sis said, in a more mild and fraternal tone, "I want you to -do somthing for me." - -"Why don't you go and get it yourself?" I said. "Or ring for George?" - -"I don't want you to get anything. I want you to go to father and -mother for somthing." - -"I'd stand a fine chance to get it!" I said. "Unless it's Calomel -or advice." - -Although not suspicous by nature, I now looked at her and saw why -I had recieved the pink hoze. It was not kindness. It was bribery! - -"It's this," she explained. "The house we had last year at the -seashore is emty and we can have it. But mother won't go. -She--well, she won't go. They're going to open the country house -and stay there." - -A few days previously this would have been sad news for me, owing -to not being allowed to go to the Country Club except in the -mornings, and no chance to meet any new people, and no bathing save -in the usual tub. But now I thriled at the information, because the -Grays have a place near the Club also. - -For a moment I closed my eyes and saw myself, all in white and -decked with flours, wandering through the meadows and on the links -with a certain Person whose name I need not write, having allready -related my feelings toward him. - -I am older now by some weeks, older and sader and wiser. For -Tradgedy has crept into my life, so that somtimes I wonder if it is -worth while to live on and suffer, especialy without an Allowence, -and being again obliged to suplicate for the smallest things. - -But I am being brave. And, as Carter Brooks wrote me in a recent -letter, acompanying a box of candy: - -"After all, Bab, you did your durndest. And if they do not understand, -I do, and I'm proud of you. As for being `blited,' as per your note -to me, remember that I am, also. Why not be blited together?" - -This latter, of course, is not serious, as he is eight years older -than I, and even fills in at middle-aged Dinners, being handsome -and dressing well, although poor. - -Sis's remarks were interupted by the clamor of the door bell. I -placed a shaking hand over the Frat pin, beneath which my heart was -beating only for HIM. And waited. - -What was my dispair to find it but Carter Brooks! - -Now there had been a time when to have Carter Brooks sit beside me, -as now, and treat me as fully out in Society, would have thriled me -to the core. But that day had gone. I realized that he was not only -to old, but to flirtatous. He was one who would not look on a -woman's Love as precious, but as a plaything. - -"Barbara," he said to me. "I do not beleive that Sister is glad to -see me." - -"I don't have to look at you," Sis said, "I can knit." - -"Tell me, Barbara," he said to me beseachingly, "am I as hard to -look at as all that?" - -"I rather like looking at you," I rejoined with cander. "Across the room." - -He said we were not as agreable as we might be, so he picked up a -magazine and looked at the Automobile advertizments. - -"I can't aford a car," he said. "Don't listen to me, either of you. -I'm only talking to myself. But I like to read the ads. Hello, -here's a snappy one for five hundred and fifty. Let me see. If I -gave up a couple of Clubs, and smokeing, and flours to -DEBUTANTES--except Barbara, because I intend to buy every pozy in -town when she comes out--I might----" - -"Carter," I said, "will you let me see that ad?" - -Now the reason I had asked for it was this: in the book the Girl -Detective had a small but powerful car, and she could do anything -with it, even going up the Court House steps once in it and -interupting a trial at the criticle moment. - -But I did not, at that time, expect to more than wish for such a -vehical. How pleasant, my heart said, to have a car holding to, and -since there was to be no bathing, et cetera, and I was not allowed -a horse in the country, except my old pony and the basket faeton, -to ramble through the lanes with a choice Spirit, and talk about -ourselves mostly, with a sprinkling of other subjects! - -Five hundred and fifty from nine hundred and forty-five leaves -three hundred and forty-five. But I need few garments at school, -wearing mostly unaforms of blue serge with one party frock for -Friday nights and receptions to Lecturers and Members of the Board. -And besides, to own a machine would mean less carfare and no shoes -to speak of, because of not walking. - -Jane Raleigh came in about then and I took her upstairs and closed -the door. - -"Jane," I said, "I want your advise. And be honest, because it's a -serious matter." - -"If it's Tommy Gray," she said, in a contemptable manner, "don't." - -How could I know, as revealed later, that Jane had gone on a Diet -since yesterday, owing to a certain remark, and had had nothing but -an apple all day? I could not. I therfore stared at her steadily -and observed: - -"I shall never ask for advise in matters of the Heart. There I draw -the line." - -However, she had seen some caromels on my table, and suddenly burst -into emotion. I was worried, not knowing the trouble and fearing -that Jane was in love with Tom. It was a terrable thought, for -which should I do? Hold on to him and let her suffer, or remember -our long years of intimacy and give him up to her? - -Should I or should I not remove his Frat pin? - -However, I was not called upon to renunciate anything. In the midst -of my dispair Jane asked for a Sandwitch and thus releived my mind. -I got her some cake and a bottle of cream from the pantrey and she -became more normle. She swore she had never cared for Tom, he being -not her style, as she had never loved any one who had not black eyes. - -"Nothing else matters, Bab," she said, holding out the Sandwitch in -a dramatic way. "I see but his eyes. If they are black, they go -through me like a knife." - -"Blue eyes are true eyes," I observed. - -"There is somthing feirce about black eyes," she said, finishing -the cream. "I feel this way. One cannot tell what black eyes are -thinking. They are a mystery, and as such they atract me. Almost -all murderers have black eyes." - -"Jane!" I exclaimed. - -"They mean passion," she muzed. "They are STRONG eyes. Did you ever -see a black-eyed man with glasses? Never. Bab, are you engaged to Tom?" - -"Practicaly." - -I saw that she wished details, but I am not that sort. I am not the -kind to repeat what has been said to me in the emotion of Love. I -am one to bury sentament deep in my heart, and have therfore the -reputation of being cold and indiferent. But better that than -having the Male Sex afraid to tell me how I effect them for fear of -it being repeated to other girls, as some do. - -"Of course it cannot be soon, if at all," I said. "He has three more -years of College, and as you know, here they regard me as a child." - -"You have your own income." - -That reminded me of the reason for my having sought the privasy of -my Chamber. I said: - -"Jane, I am thinking of buying an automobile. Not a Limousine, but -somthing styleish and fast. I must have Speed, if nothing else." - -She stopped eating a caromel and gave me a stunned look. - -"What for?" - -"For emergencies." - -"Then they disaprove of him?" she said, in a low, tence voice. - -"They know but little, although what they suspect--Jane," I said, -my bitterness bursting out, "what am I now? Nothing. A prisoner, or -the equivalent of such, forbiden everything because I am to young! -My Soul hampered by being taken to the country where there is -nothing to do, given a pony cart, although but 2O months younger -than Leila, and not going to come out until she is married, or -permanently engaged." - -"It IS hard," said Jane. "Heart-breaking, Bab." - -We sat, in deep and speachless gloom. At last Jane said: - -"Has she anyone in sight?" - -"How do I know? They keep me away at School all year. I am but a -stranger here, although I try hard to be otherwise." - -"Because we might help along, if there is anyone. To get her -married is your only hope, Bab. They're afraid of you. That's all. -You're the tipe to atract Men, except your noze, and you could help -that by pulling it. My couzin did that, only she did it to much, -and made it pointed." - -I looked in my mirror and sighed. I have always desired an -aristocratic noze, but a noze cannot be altered like teeth, unless -broken and then generaly not improved. - -"I have tried a shell hair pin at night, but it falls off when I go -to sleep," I said, in a despondant manner. - -We sat for some time, eating caromels and thinking about Leila, -because there was nothing to do with my noze, but Leila was diferent. - -"Although," Jane said, "you will never be able to live your own -Life until she is gone, Bab." - -"There is Carter Brooks," I suggested. "But he is poor. And anyhow -she is not in Love with him." - -"Leila is not one to care about Love," said Jane. "That makes it eazier." - -"But whom?" I said. "Whom, Jane?" - -We thought and thought, but of course it was hard, for we knew none -of those who filled my sister's life, or sent her flours and so on. - -At last I said: - -"There must be a way, Jane. THERE MUST BE. And if not, I shall make -one. For I am desparate. The mere thought of going back to school, -when I am as old as at present and engaged also, is madening." - -But Jane held out a warning hand. - -"Go slow, dearie," she said, in a solemn tone. "Do nothing rash. -Remember this, that she is your sister, and should be hapily -married if at all. Also she needs one with a strong hand to control -her. And such are not easy to find. You must not ruin her Life." - -Considering the fatal truth of that, is it any wonder that, on -contemplateing the events that folowed, I am ready to cry, with the -great poet Hood: 1835-1874: whose numerous works we studied during -the spring term: - - Alas, I have walked through life - To heedless where I trod; - Nay, helping to trampel my fellow worm, - And fill the burial sod. - - - II - - -If I were to write down all the surging thoughts that filled my -brain this would have to be a Novel instead of a Short Story. And -I am not one who beleives in beginning the life of Letters with a -long work. I think one should start with breif Romanse. For is not -Romanse itself but breif, the thing of an hour, at least to the -Other Sex? - -Women and girls, having no interest outside their hearts, such as -baseball and hockey and earning saleries, are more likely to hug -Romanse to their breasts, until it is finaly drowned in their tears. - -I pass over the next few days, therfore, mearly stating that my -AFFAIRE DE COUER went on rapidly, and that Leila was sulkey AND HAD -NO MALE VISITORS. On the day after the Ball Game Tom took me for a -walk, and in a corner of the park, he took my hand and held it for -quite a while. He said he had never been a hand-holder, but he -guessed it was time to begin. Also he remarked that my noze need -not worry me, as it exactly suited my face and nature. - -"How does it suit my nature?" I asked. - -"It's--well, it's cute." - -"I do not care about being cute, Tom," I said ernestly. "It is a -word I despize." - -"Cute means kissible, Bab!" he said, in an ardent manner. - -"I don't beleive in kissing." - -"Well," he observed, "there is kissing and kissing." - -But a nurse with a baby in a perambulater came along just then and -nothing happened worth recording. As soon as she had passed, -however, I mentioned that kissing was all right if one was engaged, -but not otherwise. And he said: - -"But we are, aren't we?" - -Although understood before, it had now come in full force. I, who -had been but Barbara Archibald before, was now engaged. Could it be -I who heard my voice saying, in a low tone, the "yes" of Destiny? -It was! - -We then went to the corner drug-store and had some soda, although -forbiden by my Familey because of city water being used. How -strange to me to recall that I had once thought the Clerk -nice-looking, and had even purchaced things there, such as soap and -chocolate, in order to speak a few words to him! - -I was engaged, dear Reader, but not yet kissed. Tom came into our -vestabule with me, and would doubtless have done so when no one was -passing, but that George opened the door suddenly. - -However, what difference, when we had all the rest of our Lives to -kiss in? Or so I then considered. - -Carter Brooks came to dinner that night because his people were out -of town, and I think he noticed that I looked mature and dignafied, -for he stared at me a lot. And father said: - -"Bab, you're not eating. Is it possable that that boarding school -hollow of yours is filling up?" - -One's Familey is apt to translate one's finest Emotions into terms -of food and drink. Yet could I say that it was my Heart and not my -Stomache that was full? I could not. - -During dinner I looked at Leila and wondered how she could be -married off. For until so I would continue to be but a Child, and -not allowed to be engaged or anything. I thought if she would eat -some starches it would help, she being pretty but thin. I therfore -urged her to eat potatos and so on, because of evening dress and -showing her coller bones, but she was quite nasty. - -"Eat your dinner," she said in an unfraternal maner, "and stop -watching me. They're MY bones." - -"I have no intention of being criticle," I said. "And they are vour -bones, although not a matter to brag about. But I was only -thinking, if you were fater and had a permanant wave put in your -hair, because one of the girls did and it hardly broke off at all" - -She then got up and flung down her napkin. - -"Mother!" she said. "Am I to stand this sort of thing indefinately? -Because if I am I shall go to France and scrub floors in a Hospitle." - -Well, I reflected, that would be almost as good as having her get -married. Besides being a good chance to marry over there, the -unaform being becoming to most, especialy of Leila's tipe. - -That night, in the drawing room, while Sis sulked and father was -out and mother was ofering the cook more money to go to the -country, I said to Carter Brooks: - -"Why don't you stop hanging round, and make her marry you?" - -"I'd like to know what's running about in that mad head of yours, -Bab," he said. "Of course if you say so I'll try, but don't count -to much on it. I don't beleive she'll have me. But why this -unseemly haste?" - -So I told him, and he understood perfectly, although I did not say -that I had already plited my troth. - -"Of course," he said. "If that fails there is another method of -aranging things, although you may not care to have the Funeral -Baked Meats set fourth to grace the Marriage Table. If she refuses -me, we might become engaged. You and I." - -To proposals in one day. Ye gods! - -I was obliged therfore to tell him I was already engaged, and he -looked very queer, especialy when I told him to whom it was. - -"Pup!" he said, in a manner which I excused because of his natural -feelings at being preceded. "And of course this is the real thing?" - -"I am not one to change easily, Carter" I said. "When I give I give -freely. A thing like this, with me, is to Eternaty, and even beyond." - -He is usualy most polite, but he got up then and said: - -"Well, I'm dammed." - -He went away soon after, and left Sis and me to sit alone, not -speaking, because when she is angry she will not speak to me for -days at a time. But I found a Magazine picture of a Duchess in a -nurse's dress and wearing a fringe, which is English for bangs, and -put it on her dressing table. - -I felt that this was subtile and would sink in. - -The next day Jane came around early. - -"There's a sail on down town, Bab," she said. "Don't you want to -begin laying away underclothes for your TROUSEAU? You can't begin -to soon, because it takes such a lot." - -I have no wish to reflect on Jane in this story. She meant well. -But she knew I had decided to buy an automobile, saying nothing to -the Familey until to late, when I had learned to drive it and it -could not be returned. Also she knew my Income, which was not -princly although suficient. - -But she urged me to take my Check Book and go to the sail. - -Now, if I have a weakness, it is for fine under things, with ribbon -of a pale pink and everything maching. Although I spent but -fifty-eight dollars and sixty-five cents on the TROUSEAU that day, -I felt uneasy, especialy as, just afterwards, I saw in a window a -costume for a woman CHAUFFEUR, belted lether coat and leggings, -skirt and lether cap. - -I gave a check for it also, and on going home hid my Check Book, as -Hannah was always snooping around and watching how much I spent. -But luckaly we were packing for the country, and she did not find it. - -During that evening I reflected about marrying Leila off, as the -Familey was having a dinner and I was sent a tray to my Chamber, -consisting of scrambeled eggs, baked potatos and junket, which -considering that I was engaged and even then colecting my TROUSEAU, -was to juvenile for words. - -I decided this: that Leila was my sister and therfore bound to me -by ties of Blood and Relationship. She must not be married to -anyone, therfore, whom she did not love or at least respect. I -would not doom her to be unhappy. - -Now I have a qualaty which is well known at school, and frequently -used to obtain holadays and so on. It may be Magnatism, it may be -Will. I have a very strong Will, having as a child had a way of -lying on the floor and kicking my feet if thwarted. In school, by -fixing my eyes ridgidly on the teacher, I have been able to make -her do as I wish, such as not calling on me when unprepared, et cetera. - -Full well I know the danger of such a Power, unless used for good. - -I now made up my mind to use this Will, or Magnatism, on Leila, she -being unsuspicious at the time and thinking that the thought of -Marriage was her own, and no one else's. - -Being still awake when the Familey came upstairs, I went into her -room and experamented while she was taking down her hair. - -"Well?" she said at last. "You needn't stare like that. I can't do -my hair this way without a Swich." - -"I was merely thinking," I said in a lofty tone. - -"Then go and think in bed." - -"Does it or does it not concern you as to what I was -thinking?" I demanded. - -"It doesn't greatly concern me," she replied, wraping her hair -around a kid curler, "but I darsay I know what it was. It's written -all over you in letters a foot high. You'd like me to get married -and out of the way." - -I was exultent yet terrafied at this result of my Experament. -Already! I said to my wildly beating heart. And if thus in five -minutes what in the entire summer? - -On returning to my Chamber I spent a pleasant hour planing my -maid-of-honor gown, which I considered might be blue to mach my -eyes, with large pink hat and carrying pink flours. - -The next morning father and I breakfasted alone, and I said to him: - -"In case of festivaty in the Familey, such as a Wedding, is my -Allowence to cover clothes and so on for it?" - -He put down his paper and searched me with a peircing glanse. -Although pleasant after ten A. M. he is not realy paternal in the -early morning, and when Mademoiselle was still with us was quite -hateful to her at times, asking her to be good enough not to jabber -French at him untill evening when he felt stronger. - -"Whose Wedding?" he said. - -"Well," I said. "You've got to Daughters and we might as well look ahead." - -"I intend to have to Daughters," he said, "for some time to come. -And while we're on the subject, Bab, I've got somthing to say to -you. Don't let that romantic head of yours get filled up with -Sweethearts, because you are still a little girl, with all your -airs. If I find any boys mooning around here, I'll--I'll shoot them." - -Ye gods! How intracate my life was becoming! I engaged and my -masculine parent convercing in this homacidal manner! I withdrew to -my room and there, when Jane Raleigh came later, told her the -terrable news. - -"Only one thing is to be done, Jane," I said, my voice shaking. -"Tom must be warned." - -"Call him up," said Jane, "and tell him to keep away." - -But this I dare not do. - -"Who knows, Jane," I observed, in a forlorn manner, "but that the -telephone is watched? They must suspect. But how? HOW?" - -Jane was indeed a FIDUS A CHATES. She went out to the drug store -and telephoned to Tom, being careful not to mention my name, -because of the clerk at the soda fountain listening, saying merely -to keep away from a Certain Person for a time as it was dangerous. -She then merely mentioned the word "revolver" as meaning nothing to -the clerk but a great deal to Tom. She also aranged a meeting in -the Park at 3 P. M. as being the hour when father signed his mail -before going to his Club to play bridge untill dinner. - -Our meeting was a sad one. How could it be otherwise, when to -loving Hearts are forbiden to beat as one, or even to meet? And -when one or the other is constantly saying: - -"Turn your back. There is some one I know coming!" - -Or: - -"There's the Peters's nurse, and she's the worst talker you ever -heard of." And so on. - -At one time Tom would have been allowed to take out their Roadster, -but unfortunately he had been forbiden to do so, owing to having -upset it while taking his Grandmother Gray for an airing, and was -not to drive again until she could walk without cruches. - -"Won't your people let you take out a car?" he asked. "Every girl -ought to know how to drive, in case of war or the CHAUFFEUR leaving----" - -"----or taking a Grandmother for an airing!" I said coldly. Because -I did not care to be criticized when engaged only a few hours. - -However, after we had parted with mutual Protestations, I felt the -desire that every engaged person of the Femanine Sex always feels, -to apear perfect to the one she is engaged to. I therfore -considered whether to ask Smith to teach me to drive one of our -cars or to purchace one of my own, and be responsable to no one if -muddy, or arrested for speeding, or any other Vicissatude. - -On the next day Jane and I looked at automobiles, starting with -ones I could not aford so as to clear the air, as Jane said. At -last we found one I could aford. Also its lining matched my -costume, being tan. It was but six hundred dollars, having been -more but turned in by a lady after three hundred miles because she -was of the kind that never learns to drive but loses its head -during an emergency and forgets how to stop, even though a Human -Life be in its path. - -The Salesman said that he could tell at a glanse that I was not -that sort, being calm in danger and not likly to chase a chicken -into a fense corner and murder it, as some do when excited. - -Jane and I consulted, for buying a car is a serious matter and not -to be done lightly, especialy when one has not consulted one's -Familey and knows not where to keep the car when purchaced. It is -not like a dog, which I have once or twice kept in a clandestine -manner in the Garage, because of flees in the house. - -"The trouble is," Jane said, "that if you don't take it some one -will, and you will have to get one that costs more." - -True indeed, I reflected, with my Check Book in my hand. - -Ah, would that some power had whispered in my ear "No. By -purchacing the above car you are endangering that which lies near -to your Heart and Mind. Be warned in time." - -But no sign came. No warning hand was outstretched to put my Check -Book back in my pocket book. I wrote the Check and sealed my doom. - -How weak is human nature! It is terrable to remember the rapture of -that moment, and compare it with my condition now, with no -Allowence, with my faith gone and my heart in fragments. And with, -alas, another year of school. - -As we were going to the country in but a few days, I aranged to -leave my new Possesion, merely learning to drive it meanwhile, and -having my first lesson the next day. - -"Dearest," Jane said as we left. "I am thriled to the depths. The -way you do things is wonderfull. You have no fear, none whatever. -With your father's Revenge hanging over you, and to secrets, you -are calm. Perfectly calm." - -"I fear I am reckless, Jane," I said, wistfully. "I am not brave. -I am reckless, and also desparate." - -"You poor darling!" she said, in a broken voice. "When I think of -all you are suffering, and then see your smile, my Heart aches for you." - -We then went in and had some ice cream soda, which I paid for, Jane -having nothing but a dollar, which she needed for a manacure. I -also bought a key ring for Tom, feeling that he should have -somthing of mine, a token, in exchange for the Frat pin. - -I shall pass over lightly the following week, during which the Familey -was packing for the country and all the servants were in a bad humer. -In the mornings I took lessons driving the car, which I called the -Arab, from the well-known song, which we have on the phonograph; - - - From the Dessert I come to thee, - On my Arab shod with fire. - - -The instructer had not heard the song, but he said it was a good -name, because very likly no one else would think of having it. - -"It sounds like a love song," he observed. - -"It is," I replied, and gave him a steady glanse. Because, if one -realy loves, it is silly to deny it. - -"Long ways to a Dessert, isn't it?" he inquired. - -"A Dessert may be a place, or it may be a thirsty and emty place in -the Soul," I replied. "In my case it is Soul, not terratory." - -But I saw that he did not understand. - -How few there are who realy understand! How many of us, as I, stand -thirsty in the market place, holding out a cup for a kind word or for -some one who sees below the surface, and recieve nothing but indiference! - -On Tuesday the Grays went to their country house, and Tom came over -to say good-bye. Jane had told him he could come, as the Familey -would be out. - -The thought of the coming seperation, although but for four days, -caused me deep greif. Although engaged for only a short time, -already I felt how it feels to know that in the vicinaty is some -one dearer than Life itself. I felt I must speak to some one, so I -observed to Hannah that I was most unhappy, but not to ask me why. -I was dressing at the time, and she was hooking me up. - -"Unhappy!" she said, "with a thousand dollars a year, and naturaly -curly hair! You ought to be ashamed, Miss Bab." - -"What is money, or even hair?" I asked, "when one's Heart aches?" - -"I guess it's your stomache and not your Heart," she said. "With -all the candy you eat. If you'd take a dose of magnezia to-night, -Miss Bab, with some orange juice to take the taste away, you'd feel -better right off." - -I fled from my chamber. - -I have frequently wondered how it would feel to be going down a -staircase, dressed in one's best frock, low neck and no sleaves, to -some loved one lurking below, preferably in evening clothes, -although not necesarily so. To move statuesqly and yet tenderly, -apearing indiferent but inwardly seathing, while below pasionate -eyes looked up as I floated down. - -However, Tom had not put on evening dress, his clothes being all -packed. He was taking one of father's cigars as I entered the -library, and he looked very tall and adolesent, although thin. He -turned and seeing me, observed: - -"Great Scott, Bab! Why the raiment?" - -"For you," I said in a low tone. - -"Well, it makes a hit with me all right," he said. - -And came toward me. - -When Jane Raleigh was first kissed by a member of the Other Sex, -while in a hammick, she said she hated to be kissed until he did -it, and then she liked it. I at the time had considered Jane as -flirtatous and as probably not hating it at all. But now I knew she -was right, for as I saw Tom coming toward me after laying fatther's -cigar on the piano, I felt that I COULD NOT BEAR IT. - -And this I must say, here and now. I do not like kissing. Even -then, in that first embrase of to, I was worried because I could -smell the varnish burning on the Piano. I therfore permited but one -salute on the cheek and no more before removing the cigar, which -had burned a large spot. - -"Look here," he said, in a stern manner, "are we engaged or aren't -we? Because I'd like to know." - -"If you are to demonstrative, no!" I replied, firmly. - -"If you call that a kiss, I don't." - -"It sounded like one," I said. "I suppose you know more than I do -what is a kiss and what is not. But I'll tell you this--there is no -use keeping our amatory affairs to ourselves and then kissing so -the Butler thinks the fire whistle is blowing." - -We then sat down, and I gave him the key ring, which he said was a -dandy. I then told him about getting Sis married and out of the -way. He thought it was a good idea. - -"You'll never have a chance as long as she's around," he observed, -smoking father's cigar at intervals. "They're afraid of you, and -that's flat. It's your Eyes. That's what got me, anyhow." He blue -a smoke ring and sat back with his legs crossed. "Funny, isn't it?" -he said. "Here we are, snug as weavils in a cotton thing-un-a-gig, -and only a week ago there was nothing between us but to brick -walls. Hot in here, don't you think?" - -"Only a week!" I said. "Tom, I've somthing to tell you. That is the -nice part of being engaged--to tell things that one would otherwise -bury in one's own Bosom. I shall have no secrets from you from -henceforward." - -So I told him about the car and how we could drive together in it, -and no one would know it was mine, although I would tell the -Familey later on, when to late to return it. He said little, but -looked at me and kept on smoking, and was not as excited as I had -expected, although interested. - -But in the midst of my Narative he rose quickly and observed: - -"Bab, I'm poizoned!" - -I then perceived that he was pale and hagard. I rose to my feet, -and thinking it might be the cigar, I asked him if he would care -for a peice of chocolate cake to take the taste away. But to my -greif he refused very snappishly and without a Farewell slamed out -of the house, leaving his hat and so forth in the hall. - -A bitter night ensued. For I shall admit that terrable thoughts -filled my mind, although how perpetrated I knew not. Would those -who loved me stoop to such depths as to poizon my afianced? And if -so, whom? - -The very thought was sickning. - -I told Jane the next morning, but she pretended to beleive that the -cigar had been to strong for him, and that I should remember that, -although very good-hearted, he was a mere child. But, if poizon, -she suggested Hannah. - -That day, although unerved from anxiety, I took the Arab out alone, -having only Jane with me. Except that once I got into reverce -instead of low geer, and broke a lamp on a Gentleman behind, I had -little or no trouble, although having one or to narrow escapes -owing to putting my foot on the gas throttle instead of the brake. - -It was when being backed off the pavment by to Policemen and a man -from a milk wagon, after one of the aforsaid mistakes, that I first -saw he who was to bring such wrechedness to me. - -Jane had got out to see how much milk we had spilt--we had struck -the milk wagon--and I was getting out my check book, because the -man was very nasty and insisted on having my name, when I first saw -him. He had stopped and was looking at the gutter, which was full -of milk. Then he looked at me. - -"How much damages does he want?" he said in a respectful tone. - -"Twenty dollars," I replied, not considering it flirting to merely -reply in this manner. - -The Stranger then walked over to the milkman and said: - -"A very little spilt milk goes a long way. Five dollars is plenty -for that and you know it." - -"How about me getting a stitch in my chin, and having to pay for that?" - -I beleive I have not said that the milk man was cut in the chin by -a piece of a bottle. - -"Ten, then," said my friend in need. - -When it was all over, and I had given two dollars to the old woman -who had been in the milk wagon and was knocked out although only -bruized, I went on, thinking no more about the Stranger, and almost -running into my father, who did not see me. - -That afternoon I realized that I must face the state of afairs, and -I added up the Checks I had made out. Ye gods! Of all my Money -there now remaind for the ensuing year but two hundred and twenty -nine dollars and forty five cents. - -I now realized that I had been extravagant, having spent so much in -six days. Although I did not regard the Arab as such, because of -saving car fare and half soleing shoes. Nor the TROUSEAU, as one -must have clothing. But facial masage and manacures and candy et -cetera I felt had been wastefull. - -At dinner that night mother said: - -"Bab, you must get yourself some thin frocks. You have absolutely -nothing. And Hannah says you have bought nothing. After all a -thousand dollars is a thousand dollars. You can have what you ought -to have. Don't be to saving." - -"I have not the interest in clothes I once had, mother" I replied. -"If Leila will give me her old things I will use them." - -"Bab!" mother said, with a peircing glanse, "go upstairs and bring -down your Check Book." - -I turned pale with fright, but father said: - -"No, my dear. Suppose we let this thing work itself out. It is -Barbara's money, and she must learn." - -That night, when I was in bed and trying to divide $229.45 by 12 -months, father came in and sat down on the bed. - -"There doesn't happen to be anything you want to say to me, I -suppose, Bab?" he inquired in a gentle tone. - -Although not a weeping person, shedding but few tears even when -punished in early years, his kind tone touched my Heart, and made -me lachrymoze. Such must always be the feelings of those who decieve. - -But, although bent, I was not yet broken. I therfore wept on in -silence while father patted my back. - -"Because," he said, "while I am willing to wait until you are -ready, when things begin to get to thick I want you to know that -I'm around, the same as usual." - -He kissed the back of my neck, which was all that was visable, and -went to the door. From there he said, in a low tone: - -"And by the way, Bab, I think, since you bought me the Tie, it -would be rather nice to get your mother somthing also. How about -it? Violets, you know, or--or somthing." - -Ye gods! Violets at five dollars a hundred. But I agreed. I then -sat up in bed and said: - -"Father, what would you say if you knew some one was decieving you?" - -"Well," he said, "I am an old Bird and hard to decieve. A good many -people think they can do it, however, and now and then some one -gets away with it." - -I felt softened and repentent. Had he but patted me once more, I -would have told all. But he was looking for a match for his cigar, -and the opportunaty passed. - -"Well," he said, "close up that active brain of yours for the -night, Bab, and here are to `don'ts' to sleep on. Don't break your -neck in--in any way. You're a reckless young Lady. And don't elope -with the first moony young idiot who wants to hold your hand. There -will quite likly be others." - -Others! How heartless! How cynical! Were even those I love best to -worldly to understand a monogamous Nature? - -When he had gone out, I rose to hide my Check Book in the crown of -an old hat, away from Hannah. Then I went to the window and glansed -out. There was no moon, but the stars were there as usual, over the -roof of that emty domacile next door, whence all life had fled to -the neighborhood of the Country Club. - -But a strange thing caught my eye and transfixed it. There on the -street, looking up at our house, now in the first throes of sleep, -was the Stranger I had seen that afternoon when I had upset the -milk wagon against the Park fense. - - - III - - -I shall now remove the Familey to the country, which is easier on -paper than in the flesh, owing to having to take china, silver, -bedding and edables. Also porch furnature and so on. - -Sis acted very queer while we were preparing. She sat in her room -and knited, and was not at home to Callers, although there were not -many owing to summer and every one away. When she would let me in, -which was not often, as she said I made her head ache, I tried to -turn her thoughts to marriage or to nursing at the War, which was -for her own good, since she is of the kind who would never be happy -leading a simple life, but should be married. - -But alas for all my hopes. She said, on the day before we left, -while packing her jewel box: - -"You might just as well give up trying to get rid of me, Barbara. -Because I do not intend to marry any one." - -"Very well, Leila," I said, in a cold tone. "Of course it matters -not to me, because I can be kept in school untill I am thirty, and -never come out or have a good time, and no one will care. But when -you are an old woman and have not employed your natural function of -having children to suport you in Age, don't say I did not warn -you." - -"Oh, you'll come out all right," she said, in a brutal manner. -"You'll come out like a sky rocket. You'd be as impossable to -supress as a boil." - -Carter Brooks came around that afternoon and we played marbels in -the drawing room with moth balls, as the rug was up. It was while -sitting on the floor eating some candy he had brought that I told -him that there was no use hanging around, as Leila was not going to -marry. He took it bravely, and said that he saw nothing to do but -to wait for some of the younger crowd to grow up, as the older ones -had all refused him. - -"By the way," he said. "I thought I saw you running a car the other -day. You were chasing a fox terier when I saw you, but I beleive -the dog escaped." - -I looked at him and I saw that, although smiling, he was one who -could be trusted, even to the Grave. - -"Carter," I said. "It was I, although when you saw me I know not, -as dogs are always getting in the way." - -I then told him about the pony cart, and the Allowence, and saving -car fare. Also that I felt that I should have some pleasure, even -if SUB ROSA, as the expression is. But I told him also that I -disliked decieving my dear parents, who had raised me from infancy -and through meazles, whooping cough and shingles. - -"Do you mean to say," he said in an astounded voice, "that you have -BOUGHT that car?" - -"I have. And paid for it." - -Being surprized he put a moth ball into his mouth, instead of a gum drop. - -"Well," he said, "you'll have to tell them. You can't hide it in a -closet, you know, or under the bed." - -"And let them take it away? Never." - -My tone was firm, and he saw that I meant it, especialy when I -explained that there would be nothing to do in the country, as -mother and Sis would play golf all day, and I was not allowed at -the Club, and that the Devil finds work for idle hands. - -"But where in the name of good sense are you going to keep it?" he -inquired, in a wild tone. - -"I have been thinking about that," I said. "I may have to buy a -portible Garage and have it set up somwhere." - -"Look here," he said, "you give me a little time on this, will you? -I'm not naturaly a quick thinker, and somhow my brain won't take it -all in just yet. I suppose there's no use telling you not to worry, -because you are not the worrying kind." - -How little he knew of me, after years of calls and conversation! - -Just before he left he said: "Bab, just a word of advise for you. -Pick your Husband, when the time comes, with care. He ought to have -the solidaty of an elephant and the mental agilaty of a flee. But -no imagination, or he'll die a lunatic." - -The next day he telephoned and said that he had found a place for -the car in the country, a shed on the Adams' place, which was emty, -as the Adams's were at Lakewood. So that was fixed. - -Now my plan about the car was this: Not to go on indefanitely -decieving my parents, but to learn to drive the car as an expert. -Then, when they were about to say that I could not have one as I -would kill myself in the first few hours, to say: - -"You wrong me. I have bought a car, and driven it for----days, and -have killed no one, or injured any one beyond bruizes and one -stitch." - -I would then disapear down the drive, returning shortly in the -Arab, which, having been used----days, could not be returned. - -All would have gone as aranged had it not been for the fatal -question of Money. - -Owing to having run over some broken milk bottles on the ocasion I -have spoken of, I was obliged to buy a new tire at thirty-five -dollars. I also had a bill of eleven dollars for gasoline, and a -fine of ten dollars for speeding, which I paid at once for fear of -a Notice being sent home. - -This took fifty-six dollars more, and left me but $183.45 for the -rest of the year, $15.28 a month to dress on and pay all expences. -To add to my troubles mother suddenly became very fussy about my -clothing and insisted that I purchace a new suit, hat and so on, -which cost one hundred dollars and left me on the verge of penury. - -Is it surprizing that, becoming desparate, I seized at any straw, -however intangable? - -I paid a man five dollars to take the Arab to the country and put -it in the aforsaid shed, afterwards hiding the key under a stone -outside. But, although needing relaxation and pleasure during those -sad days, I did not at first take it out, as I felt that another -tire would ruin me. - -Besides, they had the Pony Cart brought every day, and I had to -take it out, pretending enjoyment I could not feel, since acustomed -to forty miles an hour and even more at times. - -I at first invited Tom to drive with me in the Cart, thinking that -merely to be together would be pleasure enough. But at last I was -compeled to face the truth. Although protesting devotion until -death, Tom did not care for the Cart, considering it juvenile for -a college man, and also to small for his legs. - -But at last he aranged a plan, which was to take the Cart as far as -the shed, leave it there, and take out the car. This we did -frequently, and I taught Tom how to drive it. - -I am not one to cry over spilt milk. But I am one to confess when -I have made a mistake. I do not beleive in laying the blame on -Providence when it belongs to the Other Sex, either. - -It was on going down to the shed one morning and finding a lamp -gone and another tire hanging in tatters that I learned the Truth. -He who should have guarded my interests with his very Life, -including finances, had been taking the Arab out in the evenings -when I was confined to the bosom of my Familey, and using up -gasoline et cetera besides riding with whom I knew not. - -Eighty-three dollars and 45 cents less thirty-five dollars for a -tire and a bill for gasoline in the village of eight dollars left -me, for the balance of the year, but $40.45 or $3.37 a month! And -still a lamp missing. - -It was terrable. - -I sat on the running board and would have shed tears had I not been -to angry. - -It was while sitting thus, and deciding to return the Frat pin as -costing to much in gasoline and patients, that I percieved Tom -coming down the road. His hand was tied up in a bandige, and his -whole apearance was of one who wishes to be forgiven. - -Why, oh, why, must women of my Sex do all the forgiving? - -He stood in the doorway so I could see the bandige and would be -sorry for him. But I apeared not to notice him. - -"Well?" he said. - -I was silent. - -"Now look here," he went on, "I'm darned lucky to be here and not -dead, young lady. And if you are going to make a fuss, I'm going -away and join the Ambulance in France." - -"They'd better not let you drive a car if they care anything about -it," I said, coldly. - -"That's it! Go to it! Give me the Devil, of course. Why should you -care that I have a broken arm, or almost?" - -"Well," I said, in a cutting manner, "broken bones mend themselves -and do not have to be taken to a Garage, where they charge by the -hour and loaf most of the time. May I ask, if not to much trouble -to inform me, whom you took out in my car last night? Because I'd like -to send her your pin. I'd go on wearing it, but it's to expencive." - -"Oh, very well," he said. He then brought out my key ring, although -unable to take the keys off because of having but one hand. "If -you're as touchy as all that, and don't care for the real story, -I'm through. That's all." - -I then began to feel remorceful. I am of a forgiving Nature -naturaly and could not forget that but yesterday he had been tender -and loving, and had let me drive almost half the time. I therfore said: - -"If you can explain I will listen. But be breif. I am in no mood -for words." - -Well, the long and short of it was that I was wrong, and should not -have jumped to conclusions. Because the Gray's house had been -robbed the night before, taking all the silver and Mr. Gray's dress -suit, as well as shirts and so on, and as their CHAUFFEUR had taken -one of the maids out INCOGNITO and gone over a bank, returning at -seven A. M. in a hired hack, there was no way to follow the theif. -So Tom had taken my car and would have caught him, having found Mr. -Gray's trowsers on a fense, although torn, but that he ran into a -tree because of going very fast and skiding. - -He would have gone through the wind-shield, but that it was down. - -I was by that time mollafied and sorry I had been so angry, -especialy as Tom said: - -"Father ofered a hundred dollars reward for his capture, and as you -have been adviseing me to save money, I went after the hundred." - -At this thought, that my FIANCEE had endangered his hand and the -rest of his person in order to acquire money for our ultamate -marriage, my anger died. - -I therfore submitted to an embrase, and washed the car, which was -covered with mud. as Tom had but one hand and that holding a cigarette. - -Now and then, Dear Reader, when not to much worried with finances, -I look back and recall those halycon days when Love had its place -in my life, filling it to the exclusion of even suficient food, and -rendering me immune to the questions of my Familey, who wanted to -know how I spent my time. - -Oh, magic eyes of afection, which see the beloved object as -containing all the virtues, including strong features and -intellagence! Oh, dear dead Dreams, when I saw myself going down -the church isle in white satin and Dutchess lace! O Tempora O -Mores! Farewell. - -What would have happened, I wonder, if father had not discharged -Smith that night for carrying passengers to the Club from the -railway station in our car, charging them fifty cents each and -scraching the varnish with golf clubs? - -I know not. - -But it gave me the idea that ultamately ruined my dearest hopes. -This was it. If Smith could get fifty cents each for carrying -passengers, why not I? I was unknown to most, having been -expatriated at School for several years. But also there were to -stations, one which the summer people used, and one which was used -by the so-called locals. - -I was desparate. Money I must have, whether honestly or not, for -mother had bought me some more things and sent me the bill. - -"Because you will not do it yourself," she said. "And I cannot have -it said that we neglect you, Barbara." - -The bill was ninety dollars! Ye gods, were they determined to ruin me? - -With me to think is to act. I am always like that. I always, alas, -feel that the thing I have thought of is right, and there is no use -arguing about it. This is well known in my Institution of Learning, -where I am called impetuus and even rash. - -That night, my Familey being sunk in sweet slumber and untroubled -by finances, I made a large card which said: "For Hire." I had at -first made it "For Higher," but saw that this was wrong and -corected it. Although a natural speller, the best of us make mistakes. - -I did not, the next day, confide in my betrothed, knowing that he -would object to my earning Money in any way, unless perhaps in -large amounts, such as the stock market, or, as at present, in -Literature. But being one to do as I make up my mind to, I took the -car to the station, and in three hours made one dollar and a -fifteen cent tip from the Gray's butler, who did not know me as I -wore large gogles. - -I was now embarked on a Commercial Enterprize, and happier than for -days. Although having one or to narrow escapes, such as father -getting off the train at my station instead of the other, but -luckily getting a cinder in his eye and unable to see until I drove -away quickly. And one day Carter Brooks got off and found me -changing a tire and very dusty and worried, because a new tube cost -five dollars and so far I had made but six-fifteen. - -I did not know he was there until he said: - -"Step back and let me do that, Bab." - -He was all dressed, but very firm. So I let him and he looked -terrible when finished. - -"Now" he said at last, "jump in and take me somewhere near the -Club. And tell me how this happened." - -"I am a bankrupt, Carter," I responded in a broken tone. "I have -sold my birthright for a mess of porridge." - -"Good heavens!" he said. "You don't mean you've spent the whole business?" - -I then got my Check Book from the tool chest, and held it out to -him. Also the unpaid bills. I had but $40.45 in the Bank and owed -$90.00 for the things mother had bought. - -"Everything has gone wrong," I admitted. "I love this car, but it -is as much expence as a large familey and does not get better with -age, as a familey does, which grows up and works or gets married. -And Leila is getting to be a Man-hater and acts very strange most -of the time." - -Here I almost wept, and probably would have, had he not said: - -"Here! Stop that, Or I----" He stopped and then said: "How about -the engagement, Bab? Is it a failure to?" - -"We are still plited," I said. "Of course we do not agree about -some things, but the time to fuss is now, I darsay, and not when to -late, with perhaps a large familey and unable to seperate." - -"What sort of things?" - -"Well," I said, "he thinks that he ought to play around with other -girls so no one will suspect, but he does not like it when I so -much as sit in a hammick with a member of the Other Sex." - -"Bab," he said in an ernest tone, "that, in twenty words, is the -whole story of all the troubles between what you call the Sexes. -The only diference between Tommy Gray and me is that I would not -want to play around with any one else if--well, if engaged to -anyone like you. And I feel a lot like looking him up and giving -him a good thrashing." - -He paid me fifty cents and a quarter tip, and offered, although -poor, to lend me some Money. But I refused. - -"I have made my bed," I said, "and I shall occupy it, Carter. I can -have no companion in misfortune." - -It was that night that another house near the Club was robed, and -everything taken, including groceries and a case of champane. The -Summer People got together the next day at the Club and offered a -reward of two hundred dollars, and engaged a night watchman with a -motor-cycle, which I considered silly, as one could hear him coming -when to miles off, and any how he spent most of the time taking the -maids for rides, and broke an arm for one of them. - -Jane spent the night with me, and being unable to sleep, owing to -dieting again and having an emty stomache, wakened me at 2 A. M. -and we went to the pantrey together. When going back upstairs with -some cake and canned pairs, we heard a door close below. We both -shreiked, and the Familey got up, but found no one except Leila, -who could not sleep and was out getting some air. They were very -unpleasant, but as Jane observed, families have little or no gratitude. - -I come now to the Stranger again. - -On the next afternoon, while engaged in a few words with the -station hackman, who said I was taking his trade although not -needing the Money--which was a thing he could not possably -know--while he had a familey and a horse to feed, I saw the Stranger -of the milk wagon, et cetera, emerge from the one-thirty five. - -He then looked at a piece of MAUVE NOTE PAPER, and said: - -"How much to take me up the Greenfield Road?" - -"Where to?" I asked in a pre-emptory manner. - -He then looked at a piece of MAUVE NOTE PAPER, and said: - -"To a big pine tree at the foot of Oak Hill. Do you know the Place?" - -Did I know the Place? Had I not, as a child, rolled and even turned -summersalts down that hill? Was it not on my very ancestrial acres? -It was, indeed. - -Although suspicous at once, because of no address but a pine tree, -I said nothing, except merely: - -"Fifty cents." - -"Suppose we fix it like this," he suggested. "Fifty cents for the -trip and another fifty for going away at once and not hanging -around, and fifty more for forgetting me the moment you leave?" - -I had until then worn my gogles, but removing them to wipe my face, -he stared, and then said: - -"And another fifty for not running into anything, including milk wagons." - -I hesatated. To dollars was to dollars, but I have always been -honest, and above reproach. But what if he was the Theif, and now -about to survey my own Home with a view to entering it -clandestinely? Was I one to assist him under those circumstanses? - -However, at that moment I remembered the Reward. With that amount -I could pay everything and start life over again, and even purchace -a few things I needed. For I was allready wearing my TROUSEAU, -having been unable to get any plain every-day garments, and thus -frequently obliged to change a tire in a CREPE DE CHINE petticoat, -et cetera. - -I yeilded to the temptation. How could I know that I was sewing my -own destruction? - - - IV - - -Let us, dear reader, pass with brevaty over the next few days. Even -to write them is a repugnent task, for having set my hand to the -Plow, I am not one to do things half way and then stop. - -Every day the Stranger came and gave me to dollars and I took him -to the back road on our place and left him there. And every night, -although weary unto death with washing the car, carrying people, -changeing tires and picking nails out of the road which the hackman -put there to make trouble, I but pretended to slumber, and instead -sat up in the library and kept my terrable Vigil. For now I knew -that he had dishonest designs on the sacred interior of my home, -and was but biding his time. - -The house having been closed for a long time, there were mice -everywhere, so that I sat on a table with my feet up. - -I got so that I fell asleep almost anywhere but particularly at meals, -and mother called in a doctor. He said I needed exercise! Ye gods! - -Now I think this: if I were going to rob a house, or comit any sort -of Crime, I should do it and get it over, and not hang around for -days making up my mind. Besides keeping every one tence with -anxiety. It is like diving off a diving board for the first time. -The longer you stand there, the more afraid you get, and the -farther (further?) it seems to the water. - -At last, feeling I could stand no more, I said this to the Stranger -as he was paying me. He was so surprized that he dropped a quarter -in the road, and did not pick it up. I went back for it later but -some one else had found it. - -"Oh!" he said. "And all this time I've been beleiving that -you--well, no matter. So you think it's a mistake to delay to long?" - -"I think when one has somthing Right or Wrong to do, and that's for -your conscience to decide, it's easier to do it quickly." - -"I see," he said, in a thoughtfull manner. "Well, perhaps you are -right. Although I'm afraid you've been getting one fifty cents you -didn't earn." - -"I have never hung around," I retorted. "And no Archibald is ever -a sneak." - -"Archibald!" he said, getting very red. "Why, then you are----" - -"It doesn't matter who I am," I said, and got into the car and went -away very fast, because I saw I had made a dreadfull Slip and -probably spoiled everything. It was not untill I was putting the -car up for the night that I saw I had gone off with his overcoat I -hung it on a nail and getting my revolver from under a board, I -went home, feeling that I had lost two hundred dollars, and all -because of Familey pride. - -How true that "pride goeth before a fall"! - -I have not yet explained about the revolver. I had bought it from -the gardner, having promised him ten dollars for it, although not -as yet paid for. And I had meant to learn to be an expert, so that -I could capture the Crimenal in question without assistance, thus -securing all the reward. - -But owing to nervousness the first day I had, while practicing in -the chicken yard, hit the Gardner in the pocket and would have -injured him severely had he not had his garden scizzors in his pocket. - -He was very angry, and said he had a bruize the exact shape of the -scizzors on him, so I had had to give him the ten plus five dollars -more, which was all I had and left me stranded. - -I went to my domacile that evening in low spirits, which were not -improved by a conversation I had with Tom that night after the -Familey had gone out to a Club dance. - -He said that he did not like women and girls who did things. - -"I like femanine girls," he said. "A fellow wants to be the Oak and -feel the Vine clinging to him." - -"I am afectionate," I said, "but not clinging. I cannot change my Nature." - -"Just what do you mean by afectionate?" he asked, in a stern voice. -"Is it afectionate for you to sit over there and not even let me -hold your hand? If that's afection, give me somthing else." - -Alas, it was but to true. When away from me I thought of him -tenderly, and of whether he was thinking of me. But when with me I -was diferent. I could not account for this, and it troubled me. -Because I felt this way. Romanse had come into my life, but suppose -I was incapable of loving, although loved? - -Why should I wish to be embrased, but become cold and fridgid when -about to be? - -"It's come to a Show-down, Bab," he said, ernestly. "Either you -love me or you don't. I'm darned if I know which." - -"Alas, I do not know" I said in a low and pitious voice. I then -buried my face in my hands, and tried to decide. But when I looked -up he was gone, and only the sad breese wailed around me. - -I had expected that the Theif would take my hint and act that -night, if not scared off by learning that I belonged to the object -of his nefarius designs. But he did not come, and I was wakened on -the library table at 8 A. M. by George coming in to open the windows. - -I was by that time looking pale and thin, and my father said to me -that morning, ere departing for the office: - -"Haven't anything you'd like to get off your chest, have you, Bab?" - -I sighed deeply. - -"Father," I said, "do you think me cold? Or lacking in afection?" - -"Certainly not." - -"Or one who does not know her own mind?" - -"Well," he observed, "those who have a great deal of mind do not -always know it all. Just as you think you know it some new corner -comes up that you didn't suspect and upsets everything." - -"Am I femanine?" I then demanded, in an anxious manner. - -"Femanine! If you were any more so we couldn't bare it." - -I then inquired if he prefered the clinging Vine or the independant -tipe, which follows its head and not its instincts. He said a man -liked to be engaged to a clinging Vine, but that after marriage a -Vine got to be a darned nusance and took everything while giving -nothing, being the sort to prefer chicken croquets to steak and so -on, and wearing a boudoir cap in bed in the mornings. - -He then kissed me and said: - -"Just a word of advise, Bab, from a parent who is, of course, -extremely old but has not forgoten his Youth entirely. Don't try to -make yourself over for each new Admirer who comes along. Be -yourself. If you want to do any making over, try it on the boys. -Most of them could stand it." - -That morning, after changing another tire and breaking three finger -nails, I remembered the overcoat and, putting aside my scruples, -went through the pockets. Although containing no Burglar's tools, -I found a SKETCH OF THE LOWER FLOOR OF OUR HOUSE, WITH A CROSS -OUTSIDE ONE OF THE LIBRARY WINDOWS! - -I was for a time greatly excited, but calmed myself, since there -was work to do. I felt that, as I was to capture him unaided, I -must make a Plan, which I did and which I shall tell of later on. - -Alas, while thinking only of securing the Reward and of getting Sis -married, so that I would be able to be engaged and enjoy it without -worry as to Money, coming out and so on, my Ship of Love was in the -hands of the wicked, and about to be utterly destroyed, or almost, -the complete finish not coming untill later. But - - - 'Tis better to have loved and lost - Than never to have loved at all. - - -This is the tradgic story. Tom had gone to the station, feeling -repentant probably, or perhaps wishing to drive the Arab, and -finding me not yet there, had conversed with the hackman. And that -person, for whom I have nothing but contempt and scorn, had -observed to him that every day I met a young gentleman at the -three-thirty train and took him for a ride! - -Could Mendasity do more? Is it right that such a Creature, with his -pockets full of nails and scandle, should vote, while intellagent -women remain idle? I think not. - -When, therefore, I waved my hand to my FIANCEE, thus showing a -forgiving disposition, I was met but with a cold bow. I was -heart-broken, but it is but to true that in our state of society -the female must not make advanses, but must remain still, although -suffering. I therfore sat still and stared hautily at the water cap -of my car, although seathing within, but without knowing the cause -of our rupture. - -The Stranger came. I shrink in retrospect from calling him the -Theif, although correct in one sense. I saw Tom stareing at him -banefully, but I took no notice, merely getting out and kicking the -tires to see if air enough in them. I then got in and drove away. - -The Stranger looked excited, and did not mention the weather as -customery. But at last he said: - -"Somehow I gather, Little Sister, that you know a lot of things you -do not talk about." - -"I do not care to be adressed as `Little Sister,'" I said in an icy -tone. "As for talking, I do not interfere with what is not my -concern." - -"Good," he observed." And I take it that, when you find an overcoat -or any such garment, you do not exhibit it to the Familey, but put -it away in some secluded nook. Eh, what?" - -"No one has seen it. It is in the Car now, under that rug." - -He turned and looked at me intently. - -"Do you know," he observed, "my admiration for you is posatively -beyond words!" - -"Then don't talk," I said, feeling still anguished by Tom's conduct and -not caring much just then about the reward or any such mundane matters. - -"But I MUST talk," he replied. "I have a little plan, which I -darsay you have guest. As a matter of fact, I have reasons to think -it will fall in with--er--plans of your own." - -Ye gods! Was I thus being asked to compound a felony? Or did he not -think I belonged to my own Familey, but to some other of the same -name, and was therfore not suspicous. - -"Here's what I want," he went on in a smooth manner. "And there's -Twenty-five dollars in it for you. I want this little car -of yours tonight." - -Here I almost ran into a cow, but was luckaly saved, as a Jersey -cow costs seventy-five dollars and even more, depending on how much -milk given daily. When back on the road again, having but bent a -mud guard against a fense, I was calmer. - -"How do I know you will bring it back?" I asked, stareing at him fixedly. - -"Oh, now see here," he said, straightening his necktie, "I may be -a Theif, but I am not that kind of a Theif. I play for big stakes -or nothing." - -I then remembered that there was a large dinner that night and that -mother would have her jewelery out from the safe deposit, and -father's pearl studs et cetera. I turned pale, but he did not -notice it, being busy counting out Twenty-five dollars in small bills. - -I am one to think quickly, but with precicion. So I said: - -"You can't drive, can you?" - -"I do drive, dear Little--I beg your pardon. And I think, with a -lesson now, I could get along. Now see here, Twenty-five dollars -while you are asleep and therfore not gilty if I take your car from -wherever you keep it. I'll leave it at the station and you'll find -it there in the morning." - -Is it surprizing that I agreed and that I took the filthy lucre? -No. For I knew then that he would never get to the station, and the -reward of two hundred, plus the Twenty-five, was already mine mentaly. - -He learned to drive the Arab in but a short time, and I took him to -the shed and showed him where I hid the key. He said he had never -heard before of a girl owning a Motor and her parents not knowing, -and while we were talking there Tom Gray went by in the station -hack and droped somthing in the road. - -When I went out to look IT WAS THE KEY RING I HAD GIVEN HIM. - -I knew then that all was over and that I was doomed to a single -life, growing more and more meloncholy until Death releived my -sufferings. For I am of a proud nature, to proud to go to him and -explain. If he was one to judge me by apearances I was through. But -I ached. Oh, how I ached! - -The Theif did not go further that day, but returned to the station. -And I? I was not idle, beleive me. During the remainder of the day, -although a broken thing, I experamented to find exactly how much -gas it took to take the car from the station to our house. As I -could not go to the house I had to guess partly, but I have a good -mind for estimations, and I found that two quarts would do it. - -So he could come to the house or nearby, but he could not get away -with his ill-gotten gains. I therfore returned to my home and ate -a nursery supper, and Hannah came in and said: - -"I'm about out of my mind, Miss Bab. There's trouble coming to this -Familey, and it keeps on going to dinners and disregarding all hints." - -"What sort of trouble?". I asked, in a flutering voice. For if she -knew and told I would not recieve the reward, or not solely. - -"I think you know," she rejoined, in a suspicous tone." And that -you should assist in such a thing, Miss Bab, is a great Surprize to -me. I have considered you flitey, but nothing more." - -She then slapped a cup custard down in front of me and went away, -leaving me very nervous. Did she know of the Theif, or was she -merely refering to the car, which she might have guest from grease -on my clothes, which would get there in spite of being carful, -especialy when changing a tire? - -Well, I have now come to the horrable events of that night, at -writing which my pen almost refuses. To have dreamed and hoped for -a certain thing, and then by my own actions to frustrate it was to -be my fate. - -"Oh God! that one might read the book of fate!" Shakspeare. - -As I felt that, when everything was over, the people would come in -from the Club and the other country places to see the captured -Crimenal, I put on one of the frocks which mother had ordered and -charged to me on that Allowence which was by that time NON EST. -(Latin for dissapated. I use dissapated in the sense of spent, and -not debauchery.) By that time it was nine o'clock, and Tom had not -come, nor even telephoned. But I felt this way. If he was going to -be jealous it was better to know it now, rather than when to late -and perhaps a number of offspring. - -I sat on the Terrace and waited, knowing full well that it was to -soon, but nervous anyhow. I had before that locked all the library -windows but the one with the X on the sketch, also putting a nail -at the top so he could not open them and escape. And I had the key -of the library door and my trusty weapon under a cushion, -loaded--the weapon, of course, not the key. - -I then sat down to my lonely Vigil. - -At eleven P. M. I saw a sureptitious Figure coming across the lawn, -and was for a moment alarmed, as he might be coming while the -Familey and the jewels, and so on, were still at the Club. - -But it was only Carter Brooks, who said he had invited himself to -stay all night, and the Club was sickning, as all the old people were -playing cards and the young ones were paired and he was an odd man. - -He then sat down on the cushion with the revolver under it, and said: - -"Gee whiz! Am I on the Cat? Because if so it is dead. It moves not." - -"It might be a Revolver," I said, in a calm voice. "There was one -lying around somwhere." - -So he got up and observed: "I have conscientous scruples against -sitting on a poor, unprotected gun, Bab." He then picked it up and -it went off, but did no harm except to put a hole in his hat which -was on the floor. - -"Now see here, Bab," he observed, looking angry, because it was a -new one--the hat. "I know you, and I strongly suspect you put that -Gun there. And no blue eyes and white frock will make me think -otherwise. And if so, why?" - -"I am alone a good deal, Carter," I said, in a wistfull manner, "as -my natural protecters are usualy enjoying the flesh pots of Egypt. -So it is natural that I should wish to be at least fortified -against trouble." - -HE THEN PUT THE REVOLVER IN HIS POCKET, and remarked that he was -all the protecter I needed, and that the flesh pots only seemed -desirable because I was not yet out. But that once out I would find -them full of indigestion, headaches, and heartburn. - -"This being grown-up is a sort of Promised Land," he said, "and it -is always just over the edge of the World. You'll never be as nice -again, Bab, as you are just now. And because you are still a little -girl, although `plited,' I am going to kiss the tip of your ear, -which even the lady who ansers letters in the newspapers could not -object to, and send you up to bed." - -So he bent over and kissed the tip of my ear, which I considered -not a sentamental spot and therfore not to be fussy about. And I -had to pretend to go up to my chamber. - -I was in a state of great trepidation as I entered my Residense, -because how was I to capture my prey unless armed to the teeth? -Little did Carter Brooks think that he carried in his pocket, not -a Revolver or at least not merely, but my entire future. - -However, I am not one to give up, and beyond a few tears of -weakness, I did not give way. In a half hour or so I heard Carter -Brooks asking George for a whisky and soda and a suit of father's -pajamas, and I knew that, ere long, he would be would be - - - In pleasing Dreams and slumbers light. - Scott. - - -Would or would he not bolt his door? On this hung, in the Biblical -phraze, all the law and the profits. - -He did not. Crouching in my Chamber I saw the light over his -transom become blackness, and soon after, on opening his door and -speaking his name softly, there was no response. I therfore went in -and took my Revolver from his bureau, but there was somthing wrong -with the spring and it went off. It broke nothing, and as for -Hannah saying it nearly killed her, this is not true. It went into -her mattress and wakened her, but nothing more. - -Carter wakened up and yelled, but I went out into the hall and said: - -"I have taken my Revolver, which belongs to me anyhow. And don't -dare to come out, because you are not dressed." - -I then went into my chamber and closed the door firmly, because the -servants were coming down screaming and Hannah was yelling that she -was shot. I explained through the door that nothing was wrong, and -that I would give them a dollar each to go back to bed and not -alarm my dear parents. Which they promised. - -It was then midnight, and soon after my Familey returned and went -to bed. I then went downstairs and put on a dark coat because of -not wishing to be seen, and a cap of father's, wishing to apear as -masculine as possable, and went outside, carrying my weapon, and -being careful not to shoot it, as the spring seemed very loose. I -felt lonely, but not terrafied, as I would have been had I not -known the Theif personaly and felt that he was not of a violent tipe. - -It was a dark night, and I sat down on the verandah outside the -fatal window, which is a French one to the floor, and waited. But -suddenly my heart almost stopped. Some one was moving about INSIDE! - -I had not thought of an acomplice, yet such there must be. For I -could hear, on the hill, the noise of my automobile, which is not -good on grades and has to climb in a low geer. How terrable, to, to -think of us as betrayed by one of our own MENAGE! - -It was indeed a cricis. - -However, by getting in through a pantrey window, which I had done -since a child for cake and so on, I entered the hall and was able, -without a sound, to close and lock the library door. In this way, -owing to nails in the windows, I thus had the Gilty Member of our -MENAGE so that only the one window remained, and I now returned to -the outside and covered it with a steady aim. - -What was my horror to see a bag thrust out through this window and -set down by the unknown within! - -Dear reader, have you ever stood by and seen a home you loved -looted, despoiled and deprived of even the egg spoons, silver -after-dinner coffee cups, jewels and toilet articals? If not, you -cannot comprehand my greif and stern resolve to recover them, at -whatever cost. - -I by now cared little for the Reward but everything for honor. - -The second Theif was now aproaching. I sank behind a steamer chair -and waited. - -Need I say here that I meant to kill no one? Have I not, in every -page, shown that I am one for peace and have no desire for -bloodshed? I think I have. Yet, when the Theif apeared on the -verandah and turned a pocket flash on the leather bag, which I -percieved was one belonging to the Familey, I felt indeed like -shooting him, although not in a fatal spot. - -He then entered the room and spoke in a low tone. - -THE REWARD WAS MINE. - -I but slipped to the window and closed it from the outside, at the -same time putting in a nail as mentioned before, so that it could -not be raised, and then, raising my revolver in the air, I fired -the remaining four bullets, forgeting the roof of the verandah -which now has four holes in it. - -Can I go on? Have I the strength to finish? Can I tell how the -Theif cursed and tried to raise the window, and how every one came -downstairs in their night clothes and broke in the library door, -while carrying pokers, and knives, et cetera. And how, when they -had met with no violence but only sulkey silence, and turned on the -lights, there was Leila dressed ready to elope, and the Theif had -his arms around her, and she was weeping? Because he was poor, -although of good familey, and lived in another city, where he was -a broker, my familey had objected to him. Had I but been taken into -Leila's confidence, which he considered I had, or at least that I -understood, how I would have helped, instead of thwarting! If any parents -or older sisters read this, let them see how wrong it is to leave any -member of the familey in the dark, especialy in AFFAIRES DE COUER. - -Having seen from the verandah window that I had comitted an enor, -and unable to bear any more, I crawled in the pantrey window again -and went up stairs to my Chamber. There I undressed and having hid -my weapon, pretended to be asleep. - -Some time later I heard my father open the door and look in. - -"Bab!" he said, in a stealthy tone. - -I then pretended to wake up, and he came in and turned on a light. - -"I suppose you've been asleep all night," he said, looking at me -with a searching glanse. - -"Not lately," I said. "I--wasn't there a Noise or somthing?" - -"There was," he said. "Quite a racket. You're a sound sleeper. -Well, turn over and settle down. I don't want my little girl to -lose her Beauty Sleep." - -He then went over to the lamp and said: - -"By the way, Bab, I don't mind you're sleeping in my golf cap, but -put it back in the morning because I hate to have to hunt my things -all over the place." - -I had forgoten to take off his cap! - -Ah, well, it was all over, although he said nothing more, and went -out. But the next morning, after a terrable night, when I realized -that Leila had been about to get married and I had ruined -everything, I found a note from him under my door. - - -DEAR BAB: After thinking things over, I think you and I would -better say nothing about last night's mystery. But suppose you -bring your car to meet me tonight at the station, and we will take -a ride, avoiding milk wagons if possible. You might bring your -check book, too, and the revolver, which we had better bury in some -quiet spot. - FATHER. - - -P. S. I have mentioned to your mother that I am thinking of buying -you a small car. VERBUM SAP. - - - * * * * - - -The next day my mother took me calling, because if the Servants -were talking it was best to put up a bold front, and pretend that -nothing had happened except a Burglar alarm and no Burglar. We went -to Gray's and Tom's grandmother was there, WITHOUT HER CRUCHES. - -During the evening I dressed in a pink frock, with roses, and -listened for a car, because I knew Tom was now allowed to drive -again. I felt very kind and forgiving, because father had said I -was to bring the car to our garage and he would buy gasoline and so -on, although paying no old bills, because I would have to work out -my own Salvation, but buying my revolver at what I paid for it. - -But Tom did not come. This I could not beleive at first, because -such conduct is very young and imature, and to much like fighting -at dancing school because of not keeping step and so on. - -At last, Dear Reader, I heard a machine coming, and I went to the -entrance to our drive, sliding in the shrubery to surprize him. I -did not tremble as previously, because I had learned that he was -but human, though I had once considered otherwise, but I was -willing to forget. - - - How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot! - The World forgeting, by the World forgot. - Pope. - - -However, the car did not turn into our drive, but went on. And in -it were Tom, and that one who I had considered until that time my -best and most intimite friend, Jane Raleigh. - -SANS fiancee, SANS friend, SANS reward and SANS Allowence, I turned -and went back to my father, who was on the verandah and was now, -with my mother and sister, all that I had left in the World. - -And my father said: "Well, here I am, around as usual. Do you feel -to grown-up to sit on my knee?" - -I did not. - - - -CHAPTER V - -THE G.A.C. - -APRIL 9TH. As I am leaving this School to-morrow for the Easter -Holadays, I revert to this Dairy, which has not been written in for -some months, owing to being a Senior now and carrying a heavy -schedule. - -My trunk has now gone, and I have but just returned from Chapel, -where Miss Everett made a Speach, as the Head has quinzy. She -raised a large Emblem that we have purchaced at fifty cents each, -and said in a thrilling voice that our beloved Country was now at -war, and expected each and all to do his duty. - -"I shall not," she said, "point out to any the Fields of their -Usefulness. That they must determine for themselves. But I know -that the Girls of this school will do what they find to do, and -return to the school at the end of two weeks, school opening with -evening Chapel as usual and no tardiness permitted, better off for -the use they have made of this Precious Period." - -We then sang the Star-Spangled Banner, all standing and facing the -piano, but watching to see if Fraulein sang, which she did. Because -there are those who consider that she is a German Spy. - -I am now sitting in the Upper House, wondering what I can do. For -I am like this and always have been. I am an American through and -through, having been told that I look like a tipical American girl. -And I do not beleive in allowing Patriotism to be a matter of -words--words, emty words. - -No. I am one who beleives in doing things, even though necesarily -small. What if I can be but one of the little drops of Water or -little grains of Sand? I am ready to rise like a lioness to my -country's call and would, if permitted and not considered imodest -by my Familey, put on the clothing of the Other Sex and go into the -trenches. - -What can I do? - -It is strange to be going home in this manner, thinking of Duty and -not of boys and young men. Usualy when about to return to my -Familey I think of Clothes and AFFAIRS DE COUER, because at school -there is nothing much of either except on Friday evenings. But now -all is changed. All my friends of the Other Sex will have roused to -the defense of their Country, and will be away. - -And I to must do my part, or bit, as the English say. - -But what? Oh what? - - -APRIL 10TH. I am writing this in the Train, which accounts for poor -writing, etcetera. But I cannot wait for I now see a way to help my -Country. - -The way I thought of it was this: - -I had been sitting in deep thought, and although returning to my -Familey was feeling sad at the idea of my Country at war and I not -helping. Because what could I do, alone and unarmed? What was my -strength against that of the German Army? A trifle light as air! - -It was at this point in my pain and feeling of being utterly -useless, that a young man in the next seat asked if he might close -the Window, owing to Soot and having no other coller with him. I assented. - -How little did I realize that although resembling any other Male of -twenty years, he was realy Providence? - -The way it happened was in this manner. Although not supposed to -talk on trains, owing to once getting the wrong suit-case, -etcetera, one cannot very well refuse to anser if one is merely -asked about a Window. And also I pride myself on knowing Human -Nature, being seldom decieved as to whether a gentleman or not. I -gave him a steady glance, and saw that he was one. - -I then merely said to him that I hoped he intended to enlist, -because I felt that I could at least do this much for my Native Land. - -"I have already done so," he said, and sat down beside me. He was -very interesting and I think will make a good soldier, although not -handsome. He said he had been to Plattsburg the summer before, -drilling, and had not been the same since, feeling now very ernest -and only smoking three times a day. And he was two inches smaller -in the waste and three inches more in chest. He then said: - -"If some of you girls with nothing to do would only try it you -would have a new outlook on Life." - -"Nothing to do!" I retorted, in an angry manner. "I am sick and -tired of the way my Sex is always reproached as having nothing to -do. If you consider French and music and Algebra and History and -English composition nothing, as well as keeping house and having -children and atending to social duties, I DO not." - -"Sorry," he said, stiffly. "Of course I had no idea--do you mean -that you have a Familey of your own?" - -"I was refering to my Sex in general," I replied, in a cold tone. - -He then said that there were Camps for girls, like Plattsburg only -more Femanine, and that they were bully. (This was his word. I do -not use slang.) - -"You see," he said, "they take a lot of over-indulged society girls -and make them over into real People." - -Ye gods! Over-indulged! - -"Why don't you go to one?" he then asked. - -"Evadently," I said, "I am not a real Person." - -"Well, I wouldn't go as far as that. But there isn't much left of -the way God made a girl, by the time she's been curled and dressed -and governessed for years, is there? They can't even walk, but they -talk about helping in the War. It makes me sick!" - -I now saw that I had made a mistake, and began reading a Magazine, -so he went back to his seat and we were as strangers again. As I -was very angry I again opened my window, and he got a cinder in his -eye and had to have the Porter get it out. - -He got out soon after, and he had the impertinance to stop beside -me and say: - -"I hate to disapoint you, but I find I have a clean coller in my -bag after all." He then smiled at me, although I gave him no -encouragment whatever, and said: "You're sitting up much better, -you know. And if you would take off those heals I'll venture to say -you could WALK with any one." - -I detested him with feirceness at that time. But since then I have -pondered over what he said. For it is my Nature to be fair and to -consider things from every angel. I therfore said this to myself. - -"If members of the Male Sex can reduce their wastes and increase -their usefulness to their Native Land by camping, exercising and -drilling, why not get up a camp of my own, since I knew that I -would not be alowed to go away to train, owing to my Familey?" - -I am always one to decide quickly. So I have now made a sketch of -a Unaform and written out the names of ten girls who will be home -when I am. I here write out the Purpose of our organisation: - - -To defend the Country and put ourselves into good Physical -Condition.--Memo: Look up "physical" as it looks odd, as if -mispelled. - -MOTTO: To be voted on later. - -PASSWORD: Plattsburg. - -DUES: Ten dollars each in advance to buy Tent, etcetera. - -UNAFORM: Kakhi, with orange-colored necktie. In times of danger the -orange color to be changed to something which will not atract the -guns of the Enemy. - -NAME: Girls' Aviation Corps. But to be known generally as the G. A. -C. as because of Spies and so on we must be as secret as possable. - - -I have done everything thus in advance, because we will have but a -short time, and besides I know that if everything is not settled -Jane will want to run things, and probably insist on a set of -By-Laws, etcetera, which will take to much time. - -I have also decided to be Captain, as having organised the Camp and -having a right to be. - - -10 P. M. I am now in my familiar Chamber, and Hannah says they -intended to get new furnature but feel they should not, as War is -here and everything very expencive. - -But I must not complain. It is war time. - -I shall now record the events from 5 P. M. to the present. - -Father met me at the station as usual, and asked me if I cared to -stop and buy some candy on the way home. Ye gods, was I in a mood -for candy? - -"I think not, father," I replied, in a dignafied way. "Our dear -Country is now at war, and it is no time for self-indulgence." - -"Good for you!" he said. "Evadently that school of yours is worth -something after all. But we might have a bit of candy, anyhow, -don't you think? Because we want to keep our Industries going and -money in circulation." - -I could not refuse under such circumstances, and purchaced five pounds. - -Alas, war has already made changes in my Familey. George, the -butler, has felt the call of Duty and has enlisted, and we now have -a William who chips the best china, and looks like a German -although he says not, and willing to put out the Natioual Emblem -every morning from a window in father's dressing room. Which if he -is a Spy he would probably not do, or at least without being -compeled to. - -I said nothing about the G. A. C. during dinner, as I was waiting -to see if father would give me ten dollars before I organized it. -But I am a person of strong feelings, and I was sad and depressed, -thinking of my dear Country at War and our beginning with soup and -going on through as though nothing was happening. I therfore -observed that I considered it unpatriotic, with the Enemy at our -gatez, to have Sauterne on the table and a Cocktail beforehand, as -well as expencive tobacco and so on, even although economising in -other ways, such as furnature. - -"What's that?" my father said to me, in a sharp tone. - -"Let her alone, father," Leila said. "She's just dramatising -herself as usual. We're probably in for a dose of Patriotism." - -I would perhaps have made a sharp anser, but a street piano outside -began to play The Star-Spangled Banner. I then stood up, of course, -and mother said: "Sit down, for heaven's sake, Barbara." - -"Not until our National Anthem is finished, mother," I said in a -tone of gentle reproof. "I may not vote or pay taxes, but this at -least I can do." - -Well, father got up to, and drank his coffee standing. But he gave -William a dollar for the man outside, and said to tell him to keep -away at meal times as even patriotism requires nourishment. - -After dinner in the drawing room, mother said that she was going to -let me give a Luncheon. - -"There are about a dosen girls coming out when you do, Bab," she -said. "And you might as well begin to get acquainted. We can have -it at the Country Club, and have some boys, and tennis afterwards, -if the courts are ready." - -"Mother!" I cried, stupafied. "How can you think of Social -pleasures when the enemy is at our gates?" - -"Oh nonsense, Barbara," she replied in a cold tone. "We intend to -do our part, of course. But what has that to do with a small Luncheon?" - -"I do not feel like festivaty," I said. "And I shall be very busy -this holaday, because although young there are some things I can do." - -Now I have always loved my mother, although feeling sometimes that -she had forgoten about having been a girl herself once, and also -not being much given to Familey embrases because of her hair being -marceled and so on. I therfore felt that she would probably be -angry and send me to bed. - -But she was not. She got up very sudenly and came around the table -while William was breaking a plate in the pantrey, and put her hand -on my shoulder. - -"Dear little Bab!" she said. "You are right and I am wrong, and we -will just turn in and do what we can, all of us. We will give the -party money to the Red Cross." - -I was greatly agatated, but managed to ask for the ten dollars for -my share of the Tent, etcetera, although not saying exactly what -for, and father passed it over to me. War certainly has changed my -Familey, for even Leila came over a few moments ago with a hat that -she had bought and did not like. - -I must now stop and learn the Star-Spangled Banner by heart, having -never known but the first verse, and that not entirely. - - -LATER: How helpless I feel and how hopeless! - -I was learning the second verse by singing it, when father came -over in his ROBE DE NUIT, although really pagamas, and said that he -enjoyed it very much, and of course I was right to learn it as -aforsaid. but that if the Familey did not sleep it could not be -very usefull to the Country the next day such as making shells and -other explosives. - - -APRIL 11TH: I have had my breakfast and called up Jane Raleigh. She -was greatly excited and said: - -"I'm just crazy about it. What sort of a Unaform will we have?" - -This is like Jane, who puts clothes before everything. But I told -her what I had in mind, and she said it sounded perfectly -thrilling. - -"We each of us ought to learn some one thing," she said, "so we can -do it right. It's an age of Specialties. Suppose you take up -signaling, or sharp-shooting if you prefer it, and I can learn -wireless telegraphy. And maybe Betty will take the flying course, -because we ought to have an Aviator and she is afraid of nothing, -besides having an uncle who is thinking of buying an Aeroplane." - -"What else would you sugest?" I said freezingly. Because to hear -her one would have considered the entire G. A. C. as her own idea. - -"Well," she said, "I don't know, unless we have a Secret Service -and guard your father's mill. Because every one thinks he is going -to have trouble with Spies." - -I made no reply to this, as William was dusting the Drawing Room, -but said, "Come over. We can discuss that privatly." I then rang off. - -I am terrably worried, because my father is my best friend, having -always understood me. I cannot endure to think that he is in -danger. Alas, how true are the words of Dryden: - - - "War, he sung, is Toil and Trouble, - Honour but an empty Bubble." - - -NOON: Jane came over as soon as she had had her breakfast, and it -was a good thing I had everything written out, because she started -in right away to run things. She wanted a Constitution and By-Laws -as I had expected. But I was ready for her. - -"We have a Constitution, Jane," I said, solemnly. "The Constitution -of the United States, and if it is good enough for a whole Country -I darsay it is good enough for us. As for By-laws, we can make them -as we need them, which is the way laws ought to be made anyhow." - -We then made a list, Jane calling up as I got the numbers in the -telephone book. Everybody accepted, although Betty Anderson -objected to the orange tie because she has red hair, and one of the -Robinson twins could not get ten dollars because she was on -probation at School and her Familey very cold with her. But she had -loned a girl at school five dollars and was going to write for it -at once, and thought she could sell a last year's sweater for three -dollars to their laundress's daughter. We therfore admited her. - -All is going well, unless our Parents refuse, which is not likely, -as we intend to purchace the Tent and Unaforms before consulting -them. It is the way of Parents not to care to see money wasted. - -Our motto we have decided on. It is but three letters, W. I. H., -and is a secret. - - -LATER: Sis has just informed me that Carter Brooks has not -enlisted, but is playing around as usual! I feel dreadfully, as he -is a friend of my Familey. Or rather WAS. - - -7 P. M.: The G. A. C. is a fact. It is also ready for duty. How -wonderful it is to feel that one is about to be of some use to -one's own, one's Native Land! - -We held a meeting early this P. M. in our library, all doors being -closed and Sentries posted. I had made some fudge also, although -the cook, who is a new one, was not pleasant about the butter and -so on. - -We had intended to read the Constitution of the U. S. out loud, but -as it is long we did not, but signed our names to it in my father's -copy of the American Common Wealth. We then went out and bought the -Tent and ten camp chairs, although not expecting to have much time -to sit down. - -The G. A. C. was then ready for duty. - -Before disbanding for the day I made a short speach in the shop, -which was almost emty. I said that it was our intention to show the -members of the Other Sex that we were ready to spring to the -Country's call, and also to assist in recruiting by visiting the -different Milatary Stations and there encouraging those who looked -faint-hearted and not willing to fight. - -"Each day," I said, in conclusion, "one of us will be selected by -the Captain, myself, to visit these places and as soon as a man has -signed up, to pin a flower in his buttonhole. As we have but little -money, the tent having cost more than expected, we can use -carnations as not expencive." - -The man who had sold us the tent thought this was a fine idea, and -said he thought he would enlist the next day, if we would be around. - -We then went went to a book shop and bought the Plattsburg Manual, and -I read to the members of the Corps these rules, to be strictly observed: - - -1. Carry yourself at all times as though you were proud of -Yourself, your Unaform, and your Country. - -2. Wear your hat so that the brim is parallel to the ground. - -3. Have all buttons fastened. - -4. Never have sleeves rolled up. - -5. Never wear sleeve holders. - -6. Never leave shirt or coat unbuttoned at the throat. - -7. Have leggins and trousers properly laced. (Only leggins). - -8. Keep shoes shined. - -9. Always be clean shaved. (Unecessary). - -10. Keep head up and shoulders square. - -11. Camp life has a tendency to make one careless as to personal -cleanliness. Bear this in mind. - - -We then gave the Milatary Salute and disbanded, as it was time to -go home and dress for dinner. - -On returning to my domacile I discovered that, although the sun had -set and the hour of twilight had arived, the Emblem of my Country -still floated in the breese. This made me very angry, and ringing -the door-bell I called William to the steps and pointing upward, I said: - -"William, what does this mean?" - -He pretended not to understand, although avoiding my eye. - -"What does what mean, Miss Barbara?" - -"The Emblem of my Country, and I trust of yours, for I understand -you are naturalized, although if not you'd better be, floating in -the breese AFTER SUNSET." - -Did I or did I not see his face set into the lines of one who had -little or no respect for the Flag? - -"I'll take it down when I get time, miss," he said, in a tone of -resignation. "But what with making the salid and laying the table -for dinner and mixing cocktails, and the cook so ugly that if I as -much as ask for the paprika she's likely to throw a stove lid, I -haven't much time for Flags." - -I regarded him sternly. - -"Beware, William," I said. "Remember that, although probably not a -Spy or at least not dangerous, as we in this country now have our -eyes open and will stand no nonsense, you must at all times show -proper respect to the National Emblem. Go upstairs and take it in." - -"Very well, miss," he said. "But perhaps you will allow me to say -this, miss. There are to many houses in this country where the -Patriotic Feeling of the inhabatants are shown only by having a -paid employee hang out and take in what you call The Emblem." - -He then turned and went in, leaving me in a stupafied state on the -door-step. - -But I am not one to be angry on hearing the truth, although -painfull. I therfore ran in after him and said: - -"William, you are right and I am wrong. Go back to your Pantrey, -and leave the Flag to me. From now on it will be my duty." - -I therfore went upstairs to my father's dressing room, where he was -shaveing for dinner, and opened the window. He was disagreable and -observed: - -"Here, shut that! It's as cold as blue blazes." - -I turned and looked at him in a severe manner. - -"I am sorry, father," I said. "But as between you and my Country I -have no choice." - -"What the dickens has the Country got to do with giving me -influensa?" he exclaimed, glaring at me. "Shut that window." - -I folded my arms, but remained calm. - -"Father," I said, in a low and gentle tone, "need I remind you that -it is at present almost seven P. M. and that the Stars and Stripes, -although supposed to be lowered at sunset, are still hanging out -this window?" - -"Oh, that's it, is it?" he said in a releived tone. "You're nothing -if you're not thorough, Bab! Well, as they have hung an hour and -fifteen minutes to long as it is, I guess the Country won't go to -the dogs if you shut that window until I get a shirt on. Go away -and send Williarm up in ten minutes." - -"Father," I demanded, intencely, "do you consider yourself a Patriot?" - -"Well," he said, "I'm not the shouting tipe, but I guess I'll be -around if I'm needed. Unless I die of the chill I'm getting just -now, owing to one shouting Patriot in the Familey." - -"Is this your Country or William's?" I insisted, in an inflexable voice. - -"Oh, come now," he said, "we can divide it, William and I. There's -enough for both. I'm not selfish." - -It is always thus in my Familey. They joke about the most serious -things, and then get terrably serious about nothing at all, such as -overshoes on wet days, or not passing in French grammer, or having -a friend of the Other Sex, etcetera. - -"There are to many houses in this country, father," I said, folding -my arms, "where the Patriotism of the Inhabatants is shown by -having a paid employee hang out and take in the Emblem between -Cocktails and salid, so to speak." - -"Oh damm!" said my father, in a feirce voice. "Here, get away and -let me take it in. And as I'm in my undershirt I only hope the -neighbors aren't looking out." - -He then sneazed twice and drew in the Emblem, while I stood at the -Salute. How far, how very far from the Plattsburg Manual, which -decrees that our flag be lowered to the inspiring music of the -Star-Spangled Banner, or to the bugel call, "To the Colors." - -Such, indeed, is life. - - -LATER: Carter Brooks dropped in this evening. I was very cold to -him and said: - -"Please pardon me if I do not talk much, as I am in low spirits." - -"Low spirits on a holaday!" he exclaimed. "Well, we'll have to fix -that. How about a motor Picnic?" - -It is always like that in our house. They regard a Party or a -Picnic as a cure for everything, even a heartache, or being worried -about Spies, etcetera. - -"No, thank you," I said. "I am worried about those of my friends -who have enlisted." I then gave him a scornful glance and left the -room. He said "Bab!" in a strange voice and I heard him coming -after me. So I ran as fast as I could to my Chamber and locked the door. - - -IN CAMP GIRLS AVIATION CORPS, APRIL 12TH. - -We are now in Camp, although not in Unaform, owing to the delivery -waggon not coming yet with our clothes. I am writing on a pad on my -knee, while my Orderley, Betty Anderson, holds the ink bottle. - -What a morning we have had! - -Would one not think that, in these terrable times, it would be a -simple matter to obtain a spot wherein to prepare for the defence -of the Country? Should not the Young be encouraged to spring to the -call, "To arms, to arms, ye braves!" instead of being reproved for -buying a Tent with no place as yet to put it, and the Adams's -governess being sent along with Elaine because we need a Chaperone? - -Ye gods! A Chaperone to a Milatary Camp! - -She is now sitting on one of the camp stools and embroidering a -centerpeice. She brought her own lunch and Elaine's, refusing to -allow her to eat the regular Milatary rations of bacon and boiled -potatoes, etcetera, and not ofering a thing to us, although having -brought chicken sandwitches, cake and fruit. - -I shall now put down the events of the day, as although the Manual -says nothing of keeping a record, I am sure it is always done. Have -I not read, again and again, of the Captain's log, which is not -wood, as it sounds, but is a journal or Dairy? - -This morning the man at the tent store called up and asked where to -send the tent. I then called a meeting in my Chamber, only to meet -with bitter disapointment, as one Parent after another had refused -to allow their grounds to be used. I felt sad--helpless, as our -house has no grounds, except for hanging out washing, etcetera. - -I was very angry and tired to, having had to get up at sunrise to -put out the Emblem, and father having wakened and been very nasty. -So I got up and said: - -"It is clear that our Families are Patriots in name only, and not -in deed. Since they have abandoned us, The G. A. C. must abandon -them and do as it thinks best. Between Familey and Country, I am -for the Country." - -Here they all cheered, and Hannah came in and said mother had a -headache and to keep quiet. - -I could but look around, with an eloquent gesture. - -"You see, Members of the Corps," I said in a tence voice, "that -things at present are intollerable. We must strike out for -ourselves. Those who are willing please signafy by saying Aye." - -They all said it and I then sugested that we take my car and as -many as possable of the officers and go out to find a suitable -spot. I then got my car and crowded into it the First and Second -Lieutenants, the Sergeant and the Quartermaster, which was Jane. -She had asked to be Veterinarian, being fond of dogs, but as we had -no animals, I had made her Quartermaster, giving her charge of the -Quarters, or Tent, etcetera. The others followed in the Adams's -limousine, taking also cooking utensils and food, although -Mademoiselle was very disagreeable about the frying pan and refused -to hold it. - -We went first to the tent store. The man in the shop then -instructed me as to how to put up the Tent, and was very kind, -offering to send some one to do it. But I refused. - -"One must learn to do things oneself if one is to be usefull," I -said. "It is our intention to call on no member of the Male Sex, -but to show that we can get along without them." - -"Quite right," he said. "I'm sure you can get along without us, -miss, much better than we could get along without you." - -Mademoiselle considered this a flirtatious speach and walked out of -the shop. But I consider that it was a General Remark and not -personal, and anyhow he was thirty at least, and had a married apearance. - -As there was not room for the Tent and camp chairs in my car, the -delivery waggon followed us, making quite a procession. - -We tried several farm houses, but one and all had no Patriotism -whatever and refused to let us use their terratory. It was -heartrending, for where we not there to help to protect that very -terratory from the enemy? But no, they cared not at all, and said -they did not want papers all over the place, and so on. One woman -observed that she did not object to us, but that we would probably -have a lot of boys hanging around and setting fire to things with -cigarettes, and anyhow if we were going to shoot it would keep the -hens from laying. - -Ye gods! Is this our National Spirit? - -I simply stood up in the car and said: - -"Madame, we intend to have no Members of the Other Sex. And if you -put eggs above the Stars and Stripes you are nothing but a Traitor -and we will keep an eye on you." - -We then went on, and at last found a place where no one was living, -and decided to claim it in the name of the government. We then put -up the tent, although not as tight as it should have been, owing to -the Adams's chauffeur not letting us have his wrench to drive the -pins in with, and were ready for the day's work. - -We have now had luncheon and the Quartermaster, Jane, is burning -the papers and so on. - -After I have finished this Log we will take up the signaling. We -have decided in this way: Lining up in a row, and counting one to -ten, and even numbers will study flag signals, and the odds will -take up telagraphy, which is very clearly shown in the Manual. - -After that we will have exercises to make us strong and elastic, -and then target practise. - -We have as yet no guns, but father has one he uses for duck -shooting in the fall, and Betty's uncle was in Africa last year and -has three, which she thinks she can secure without being noticed. -We have passed this Resolution: To have nothing to do with those of -the other Sex who are not prepared to do their Duty. - - -EVENING, APRIL 12TH. I returned to my domacile in time to take in -Old Glory, and also to dress for dinner, being muddy and needing a -bath, as we had tried bathing in the creek at the camp while -Mademoiselle was asleep in the tent, but found that there was an -oil well near and the water was full of oil, which stuck to us and -was very disagreeable to smell. - -Carter Brooks came to dinner, and I played the National Anthem on -the phonograph as we went in to the Dining Room. Mother did not -like it, as the soup was getting cold, but we all stood until it -was finished. I then saluted, and we sat down. - -Carter Brooks sat beside me, and he gave me a long and piercing glance. - -"What's the matter with you, Bab?" he said. "You were rather rude -to me last night and now you've been looking through me and not at -me ever since I came, and I'll bet you're feverish." - -"Not at all." I said, in a cold tone. "I may be excited, because of war -and my Country's Peril. But for goodness sake don't act like the Familey, -which always considers that I am sick when I am merely intence." - -"Intence about what?" he asked. - -But can one say when one's friends are a disapointment to one? No, -or at least not at the table. - -The others were not listening, as father was fussing about my -waking him at daylight to put out the Emblem. - -"Just slide your hand this way, under the table cloth," Carter -Brooks said in a low tone. "It may be only intencity, but it looks -most awfully like chicken pocks or somthing." - -So I did, considering that it was only Politeness, and he took it -and said: - -"Don't jerk! It is nice and warm and soft, but not feverish. What's -that lump?" - -"It's a blister," I said. And as the others were now complaining -about the soup, I told him of the Corps, etcetera, thinking that -perhaps it would rouse him to some patriotic feelings. But no, it -did not. - -"Now look here," he said, turning and frowning at me, "Aviation -Corps means flying. Just remember this,--if I hear of your trying -any of that nonsense I'll make it my business to see that you're -locked up, young lady." - -"I shall do exactly as I like, Carter" I said in a, friggid manner. -"I shall fly if I so desire, and you have nothing to say about it." - -However, seeing that he was going to tell my father, I added: - -"We shall probably not fly, as we have no machine. There are -Cavalry Regiments that have no horses, aren't there? But we are but -at the beginning of our Milatary existence, and no one can tell -what the next day may bring forth." - -"Not with you, anyhow," he said in an angry tone, and was very cold -to me the rest of the dinner hour. - -They talked about the war, but what a disapointment was mine! I had -returned from my Institution of Learning full of ferver, and it was -a bitter moment when I heard my father observe that he felt he -could be of more use to his Native Land by making shells than by -marching and carrying a gun, as he had once had milk-leg and was -never the same since. - -"Of course," said my father, "Bab thinks I am a slacker. But a -shell is more valuable against the Germans than a milk leg, anytime." - -I at that moment looked up and saw William looking at my father in -a strange manner. To those who were not on the alert it might have -apeared that he was trying not to smile, my father having a way of -indulging in "quips and cranks and wanton wiles" at the table which -mother does not like, as our Butlers are apt to listen to him and -not fill the glasses and so on. - -But if my Familey slept mentaly I did not. AT ONCE I suspected -William. Being still not out, and therfore not listened to with -much atention, I kept my piece and said nothing. And I saw this. -WILLIAM WAS NOT WHAT HE SEEMED. - -As soon as dinner was over I went into my father's den, where he -brings home drawings and estamates, and taking his Leather Dispach -case, I locked it in my closet, tying the key around my neck with -a blue ribben. I then decended to the lower floor, and found Carter -Brooks in the hall. - -"I want to talk to you," he said. "Have you young Turks--I mean -young Patriots any guns at this camp of yours?" - -"Not yet." - -"But you expect to, of course?" - -I looked at him in a steady manner. - -"When you have put on the Unaform of your Country" I said, "or at least -of Plattsburg, I shall tell you my Milatary secrets, and not before." - -"Plattsburg!" he exclaimed. "What do you know of Plattsburg?" - -I then told him, and he listened, but in a very disagreeable way. -And at last he said: - -"The plain truth, Bab, is that some good-looking chap has filled -you up with a lot of dope which is meant for men, not romantic -girls. I'll bet to cents that if a fellow with a broken noze or a -squint had told you, you'd have forgotten it the next minute." - -I was exasparated. Because I am tired of being told that the -defence of our Dear Country is a masculine matter. - -"Carter" I said, "I do not beleive in the double, standard, and -never did." - -"The what?" - -"The double standard," I said with dignaty. "It was all well and -good when war meant wearing a kitchin stove and wielding a lance. -It is no longer so. And I will show you." - -I did not mean to be boastfull, such not being my nature. But I did -not feel that one who had not yet enlisted, remarking that there -was time enough when the Enemy came over, etcetera, had any right -to criticise me. - - -12 MIDNIGHT. How can I set down what I have discovered? And having -recorded it, how be sure that Hannah will not snoop around and find -this record, and so ruin everything? - -It is midnight. Leila is still out, bent on frivolaty. The rest of -the Familey sleeps quietly, except father, who has taken cold and -is breathing through his mouth, and I sit here alone, with my secret. - -William is a Spy. I have the proofs. How my hand trembles as I set -down the terrable words. - -I discovered it thus. - -Feeling somewhat emty at bed time and never sleeping well when -hollow inside, I went down to the pantrey at eleven P. M. to see if -any of the dinner puding had been left, although not hopeful, owing -to the servants mostly finishing the desert. - -WILLIAM WAS IN THE PANTREY. - -He was writing somthing, and he tried to hide it when I entered. - -Being in my ROBE DE NUIT I closed the door and said through it: - -"Please go away, William. Because I want to come in, unless all the -puding is gone." - -I could hear him moving around, as though concealing somthing. - -"There is no puding, miss," he said. "And no fruit except for -breakfast. Your mother is very particuler that no one take the -breakfast fruit." - -"William," I said sternly, "go out by the kitchen door. Because I -am hungry, and I am coming in for SOMTHING." - -He was opening and closing the pantrey drawers, and although young, -and not a housekeeper, I knew that he was not looking in them for edables. - -"If you'll go up to your room, Miss Bab," he said, "I'll mix you an -Eggnogg, without alkohol, of course, and bring it up. An Eggnogg is -a good thing to stay the stomache with at night. I frequently -resort to one myself." - -I saw that he would not let me in, so I agreed to the Eggnogg, but -without nutmeg, and went away. My knees tremble to think that into -our peacefull home had come "Grim-vizaged War," but I felt keen and -capable of dealing with anything, even a Spy. - -William brought up the Eggnogg, with a dash of sherry in it, and I -could hear him going up the stairs to his chamber. I drank the -Eggnogg, feeling that I would need all my strength for what was to -come, and then went down to the pantrey. It was in perfect order, -except that one of the tea towles had had a pen wiped on it. - -I then went through the drawers one by one, although not hopeful, -because he probably had the incrimanating document in the heal of -his shoe, which Spies usually have made hollow for the purpose, or -sowed in the lining of his coat. - -At least, so I feared. But it was not so. Under one of the best -table cloths I found it. - -Yes. I FOUND IT. - -I copy it here in my journal, although knowing nothing of what it -means. Is it a scheme to blow up my father's mill, where he is -making shells for the defence of his Native Land? I do not know. -With shaking hands I put it down as follows: - - 48 D. K. - 48 D. F. - 36 S. F. - 34 F. F. - 36 T. S. - 36 S. S. - 36 C. S. - 24 I. H. K. - 36 F. K. - - -But in one way its meaning is clear. Treachery is abroad and -Treason has but just stocked up the stairs to its Chamber. - - -APRIL 13TH. It is now noon and snowing, although supposed to be -spring. I am writing this Log in the tent, where we have built a -fire. Mademoiselle is sitting in the Adams's limousine, wrapped in -rugs. She is very sulky. - -There are but nine of us, as I telephoned the Quartermaster early this -morning and summoned her to come over and discuss important business. - -Her Unaform had come and so had mine. What a thrill I felt as she -entered Headquarters (my chamber) in kakhi and saluted. She was -about to sit down, but I reminded her that war knows no intimacies, -and that I was her Captain. She therfore stood, and I handed her -William's code. She read it and said: - -"What is it?" - -"That is what the G. A. C. is to find out," I said. "It is a cipher." - -"It looks like it," said Jane in a flutering tone. "Oh, Bab, what -are we to do?" - -I then explained how I had discovered it and so on. - -"Our first duty," I went on, "is to watch William. He must be -followed and his every movement recorded. I need not tell you that -our mill is making shells, and that the fate of the Country may -hang on you today." - -"On me?" said Jane, looking terrafied. - -"On you. I have selected you for this first day. To-morrow it will -be another. I have not yet decided which. You must remain secreted -here, but watching. If he goes out, follow him." - -I was again obliged to remind her of my rank and so on, as she sat -down and began to object at once. - -"The Familey," I said, "will be out all day at First Aid classes. -You will be safe from discovery." - -Here I am sorry to say Jane disapointed me, for she observed, bitterly: - -"No luncheon, I suppose!" - -"Not at all," I said. "It is a part of the Plattsburg idea that a -good soldier must have nourishment, as his strength is all he has, -the Officers providing the brains." - -I then rang for Hannah, and ofered her to dollars to bring Jane a -tray at noon and to sneak it from the kitchin, not the pantrey. - -"From the kitchin?" she said. "Miss Bab, it's as much as my life is -worth to go to the kitchin. The cook and that new Butler are -fighting something awfull." - -Jane and I exchanged glances. - -"Hannah," I said, in a low tone, "I can only say this. If you but -do your part you may avert a great calamaty." - -"My God, Miss Bab!" she cried. "That cook's a German. I said so -from the beginning." - -"Not the cook, Hannah." - -We were all silent. It was a terrable moment. I shortly afterwards -left the house, leaving Jane to study flag signals, or wig-waging -as vulgarly called, and TO WATCH. - - -CAMP, 4 P. M. Father has just been here. - -We were trying to load one of Betty's uncle's guns when my Orderley -reported a car coming at a furious gate. On going to the opening of -the tent I saw that it was our car with father and Jane inside. -They did not stop in the road, but turned and came into the field, -bumping awfully. - -Father leaped out and exclaimed: - -"Well!" - -He then folded his arms and looked around. - -"Upon my word, Bab!" he said. "You might at least take your Familey -into your confidence. If Jane had not happened to be at the house -I'd never have found you. But never mind about that now. Have you -or have you not seen my leather Dispach Case?" - -Alas, my face betrayed me, being one that flushes easily and then -turns pale. - -"I thought so," he said, in an angry voice. "Do you know that you -have kept a Board of Directors sitting for three hours, and -that--Bab, you are hopeless! Where is it?" - -How great was my humiliation, although done with the Highest -Motives, to have my Corps standing around and listening. Also -watching while I drew out the rihben and the key. - -"I hid it in my closet, father," I said. - -"Great thunder!" he said. "And we have called in the Secret Service!" - -He then turned on his heal and stocked away, only stopping to stare -at Mademoiselle in the car, and then driving as fast as possable -back to the mill. - -As he had forgotten Jane, she was obliged to stay. It was by now -raining, and the Corps wanted to go home. But I made a speach, saying -that if we weakened now what would we do in times of Real Danger? - -"What are a few drops of rain?" I inquired, "to the falling of -bullets and perhaps shells? We will now have the class in bandageing." - -The Corps drew lots as to who would be bandaged, there being no -volunteers, as it was cold and necesary to remove Unaform etcetera. -Elaine got number seven. The others then practiced on her, having -a book to go by. - -I here add to this log Jane's report on William. He had cleaned -silver until 1 P. M., when he had gone back to the kitchin and -moved off the soup kettle to boil some dish towles. The cook had -then set his dish towles out in the yard and upset the pan, -pretending that a dog had done so. Hannah had told Jane about it. - -At 1:45 William had gone out, remarking that he was going to the -drug store to get some poizon for the cook. Jane had followed him -and HE HAD REALLY MAILED A LETTER. - - -APRIL 14TH. I have taken a heavy cold and am, alas, HORS DE COMBAT. -The Familey has issued orders that I am to stay in bed this A. M. -and if stopped sneazing by 2 P. M. am to be allowed up but not to -go to Camp. - -Elaine is in bed to, and her mother called up and asked my Parents -if they would not send me back to school, as I had upset everything -and they could not even get Elaine to the Dentist's, as she kept -talking about teeth being unimportant when the safety of the Nation -was hanging in the Balence. - -As I lie here and reflect, it seems to me that everywhere around me -I see nothing but Sloth and Indiference. One would beleive that -nothing worse could happen than a Cook giving notice. Will nothing -rouze us to our Peril? Are we to sit here, talking about housecleaning -and sowing women and how wide are skirts, when the minions of the German -Army may at any time turn us into slaves? Never! - - -LATER: Carter Brooks has sent me a book on First Aid. Ye gods, what -chance have I at a wounded Soldier when every person of the -Femanine Sex in this Country is learning First Aid, and even hoping -for small accidents so they can practice on them. No, there are -some who can use their hands (i. e. at bandageing and cutting small -boils, etcetera. Leila has just cut one for Henry, the chauffeur, -although not yellow on top and therfore not ready) and there are -others who do not care for Nursing, as they turn sick at the sight -of blood, and must therfore use their brains. I am of this class. - -William brought up my tray this morning. I gave him a peircing -glance and said: - -"Is the Emblem out?" - -He avoided my eye. - -"Not yet, miss," he said. "Your father left sharp orders as to -being disturbed before 8 A. M." - -"As it is now 9:30," I observed coldly, "there has been time enough -lost. I am HORS DE COMBAT, or I would have atended to it long ago." - -He had drawn a stand beside the bed, and I now sat up and looked at -my Tray. The orange was cut through the wrong way! - -Had I needed proof, dear log or journal, I had it there. For any -BUTLER knows how to cut a breakfast orange. - -"William," I said, as he was going out, "how long have you been a Butler?" - -Perhaps this was a foolish remark as being calculated to put him on -his guard. But "out of the fullness of the Heart the Mouth -speaketh." It was said. I could not withdraw my words. - -He turned suddenly and looked at me. - -"Me, miss?" he said in a far to inocent tone. "Why, I don't know -exactly. " He then smiled and said: "There are some who think I am -not much of a Butler now." - -"Just a word of advise, William," I said in a signifacant tone. "A -real Butler cuts an orange the other way. I am telling you, because -although having grape fruit mostly, some morning some one may order -an orange, and one should be very careful THESE DAYS." - -Shall I ever forget his face as he went out? No, never. He knew -that I knew, and was one to stand no nonsense. But I had put him on -his guard. It was to be a battle of Intellagence, his brains -against mine. - -Although regretful at first of having warned him, I feel now that -it is as well. I am one who likes to fight in the open, not as a -serpent coiled in the grass and pretending, like the one in the -Bible, to be a friend. - - -3 P. M. No new developments. Although forbidden to go out nothing -was said about the roof. I have therfore been up on it exchanging -Signals with Lucy Gray next door by means of flags. As their roof -slants and it is still raining, she sliped once and slid to the -gutter. She then sat there and screamed like a silly, although they -got her back with a clothesline which the Policeman asked for. - -But Mrs. Gray was very unpleasant from one of their windows and -said I was a Murderer at heart. - -Has the Average Parent no soul? - - -NOON, APRIL 14 (In Camp). - -This is a fine day, being warm and bright and all here but Elaine -and Mademoiselle--the latter not greatly missed, as although French -and an Ally she thinks we should be knitting etcetera, and ordered -the car to be driven away when ever we tried to load the gun. - -A quorum being present, it was moved and seconded that we express -wherever possable our disaproval in war time of - - -1. Cigarettes - -2. Drinking - -3. Low-necked dresses - -4. Parties - -5. Fancy deserts - -6. Golf and other sports--except when necesary for health. - -7. Candy. - - -We also pleged ourselves to try and make our Families rise early, -and to insist on Members of our Families hoisting and taking down -the Stars and Stripes, instead of having it done by those who may -not respect it, or only aparently so. - -Passed unanamously. - -The class in Telegraphy reported that it could do little or -nothing, as it is easy to rap out a dot but not possable to rap a -dash. We therfore gave it up for The Study of the Rifle and Its Care. - -Luncheon today: Canned salmon, canned beans and vanila wafers. - - -2 A. M., APRIL 15TH. I have seen a Spy at his nefarius work! - -I am still trembling. At one moment I think that I must go again to -Father and demand consideration, as more mature than he seems to -think, and absolutely certain I was not walking in my sleep. But -the next moment I think not, but that if I can discover William's -plot myself, my Familey will no longer ignore me and talk about my -studying Vocal next winter instead of coming out. - -To return to William, dear Log or journal. I had been asleep for -some time, but wakened up to find myself standing in the dining room -with a napkin in each hand. I was standing in the Flag Signal position -for A, which is the only one I remember as yet without the Manual. - -I then knew that I had been walking in my sleep, having done so -several times at School, and before Examinations being usualy tied -by my Room-mate with a string from my ankle to the door knob, so as -in case of getting out of bed to wake up. - -I was rather scared, as I do not like the dark, feeling when in it -that Something is behind me and about to cluch at me. - -I therfore stood still and felt like screaming, when suddenly the -door of the Butler's pantrey squeaked. Could I then have shreiked -I would have, but I had no breath for the purpose. - -Somebody came into the room and felt for the table, passing close -by me and stepping by accident on the table bell, which is under -the rug. It rang and scared me more than ever. We then both stood -still, and I hoped if he or it heard my Heart thump he or it would -think it was the hall clock. - -After a time the footsteps moved on around the table and out into -the hall. I was still standing in position A, being as it were -frosen thus. - -However, seeing that it was something human and not otherwise, as -its shoes creaked, I now became angry at the thought that Treason -was under the roof of my home. I therfore followed the Traitor out -into the hall and looked in through the door at him. He had a flash -light, and was opening the drawers of my father's desk. It was William. - -I then concealed myself behind my father's overcoat in the hack -hall, and considered what to do. Should I scream and be probably -killed, thus dying a noble Death? Or should I remain still? I -decided on the latter. - -And now, dear Log or Journal, I must record what followed, which I -shall do as acurately as I can, in case of having later on to call -in the Secret Service and read this to them. - -There is a safe built in my resadence under the stairs, in which -the silver service, plates, etcetera, are stored, as to big for the -Safe Deposit, besides being a nusance to send for every time there -is a dinner. - -This safe only my father can unlock, or rather, this I fondly -believed until tonight. But how diferent are the facts! For William -walked to it, after listening at the foot of the stairs, and opened -it as if he had done so before quite often. He then took from it my -father's Dispach Case, locked the safe again, and went back through -the dining room. - -It is a terrable thing to see a crime thus comitted and to know not -what to do. Had William repaired again to his chamber, or would he -return for the plates, etcetera? - -At last I crept upstairs to my father's room, which was locked. I -could not waken him by gently taping, and I feared that if I made -a noise I would warn the lurking Criminal in his den. I therfore -went to my bathroom and filled my bath sponge with water, and threw -it threw the transom in the direction of my father's bed. - -As it happened it struck on his face, and I heard him getting up -and talking dreadfully to himself. Also turning on the lights. I -put my mouth to the keyhole and said: - -"Father!" - -Had he but been quiet, all would have been well. But he opened the -door and began roaring at me in a loud tone, calling me an imp of -Mischeif and other things, and yelling for a towle. - -I then went in and closed the door and said: - -"That's right. Bellow and spoil it all." - -"Spoil what?" he said, glareing at me. "There's nothing left to -spoil, is there? Look at that bed! Look at me!" - -"Father," I said, "while you are raging about over such a thing as -a wet Sponge, which I was driven to in desparation, the house is or -rather has been robbed." - -He then sat down on the bed and said: - -"You are growing up, Bab, although it is early for the burglar -obsession. Go on, though. Who is robbing us and why? Because if he -finds any Money I'll divide with him." - -Such a speach discouraged me, for I can bear anything except to be -laughed at. I therfore said: - -"William has just taken your Dispach Case out of the safe. I saw him." - -"William!" - -"William," I repeated in a tence voice. - -He was then alarmed and put on his slippers and dressing gown. - -"You stay here," he observed. "Personally I think you've had a bad -dream, because William can't possably know the combination of that -safe. It's as much as I can do to remember it myself." - -"It's a Spy's business to know everything, father." - -He gave me a peircing glance. - -"He's a Spy, is he?" he then said. "Well, I might have known that -all this war preparation of yours would lead to Spies. It has -turned more substantile intellects than yours." - -He then swiched on the hall lights from the top of the stairs and -desended. I could but wait at the top, fearing at each moment a shot -would ring out, as a Spy's business is such as not to stop at Murder. - -My father unlocked the safe and looked in it. Then he closed it -again and disapeared into the back of the house. How agonising were -the moments that ensued! He did not return, and at last, feeling -that he had met a terrable Death, I went down. - -I went through the fatal dining room to the pantrey and there found -him not only alive, but putting on a plate some cold roast beef and -two apples. - -"I thought we'd have a bite to eat," he said. "I need a little -nourishment before getting back into that puddle to sleep." - -"Father!" I said. "How can you talk of food when knowing----" - -"Get some salt and pepper," he said, "and see if there is any -mustard mixed. You've had a dream, Bab. That's all. The Case is in -the safe, and William is in his bed, and in about two minutes a -cold repast is going to be in me." - -Ye gods! - -He is now asleep, and I am writing this at 2 A. M. - -I, and I alone, know that there is a Criminal in this house, -serving our meals and quareling with the cook as if a regular -Butler, but really a Spy. And although I cry aloud in my anguish, -those who hear me but maintain that I am having a nightmare. - -I am a Voice crying in the Wilderness. - - -APRIL 15TH: 9 A. M. William is going about as usual, but looks as -though he had not had enough sleep. - -Father has told mother about last night, and I am not to have -coffee in the evenings. This is not surprizing, as they have always -considered me from a physical and not a mental standpoint. - -My very Soul is in revolt. - - -6 P. M. This being Sunday, camp did not convene until 3 P. M. and -then but for a short time. We flag-signaled mostly and are now to -the letter E. Also got the gun loaded at last and fired it several -times, I giving the orders as in the book, page 262, in a loud voice: - -(1) "Hold the rifle on the mark." (2) "Aim properly." (3) "Squeeze -the Triger properly." (4) "Call the shot." - -We had but just started, and Mademoiselle had taken the car and -gone back to the Adams's residence to bring out Mr. Adams, as she -considers gun-shooting as dangerous, when a farmer with to dogs -came over a fense and objected, saying that it was Sunday and that -his cows were getting excited anyhow and would probahly not give -any milk. - -"These are War times," I said, in a dignafied manner. "And if you -are doing nothing for the country yourself you should at least -allow others to do so." - -He was a not unreasonable tipe and this seemed to effect him. For -he sat down on one of our stools and said: - -"Well, I don't know about that, miss. You see----" - -"Captain," I put in. Because he might as well know that we meant -business. - -"Captain, of course!" he said. "You'll have to excuze me. This -thing of Women in War is new to me. But now don't you think that -you'll be doing the country a service not to interfere with the -food supply and so on?" He then looked at me and remarked: "If I -was you, miss or Captain, I would not come any to clost to my -place. My wife was pretty well bruized up that time you upset our -milk waggon." - -IT WAS INDEED HE! But he was not unpleasant about it, although -remarking that if he had a daughter and a machine, although he had -niether, and expected niether, the one would never be allowed to -have the other until carefully taught on an emty road. - -He then said: - -"You girls have been wig-wagging, I see." - -"We are studying flag signals." - -"Humph!" he observed. "I used to know something about that myself, -in the Spanish war. Now let's see what I remember. Watch this. And -somebody keep an eye on that hill and report if a blue calico dress -is charging from the enemies' Trenches." - -It was very strange to see one who apeared to be but an ordinary -Farmer, Or Milkman, pick up our flags and wave them faster than we -could read them. It was indeed thrilling, although discouraging, -because if that was the regular rate of Speed we felt that we could -never acheive it. I remarked this, and he then said: - -"Work hard at it, and I reckon I can slip over now and then and -give you a lesson. Any girl that can drive an automobile hell-bent" -(these are his words, not mine) "can do most anything she sets her -mind on. You leave that gun alone, and work at the signaling, and -I guess I can make out to come every afternoon. I start out about -2 A. M. and by noon I'm mostly back." - -We all thanked him, and saluted as he left. He saluted to, and said: - -"Name's Schmidt, but don't worry about that. Got some German blood -way back, but who hasn't?" - -He then departed with his to dogs, and we held a meeting, and voted -to give up everything but signaling. - -Passed unanamously. - - -8 P. M. I am now at home. Dinner is over, being early on Sundays -because of Servants' days out and so on. - -Leila had a Doctor to dinner. She met him at the Red Cross, and he -would, I think, be a good husband. He sat beside me, and I talked -mostly about her, as I wished him to know that, although having her -faults as all have, she would be a good wife. - -"She can sow very well," I told him, "and she would probably like -to keep House, but of course has no chance here, as mother thinks -no one can manage but herself." - -"Indeed!" he said, looking at me. "But of course she will probably -have a house of her own before long." - -"Very likely," I said. "Although she has had a number of chances -and always refuses." - -"Probably the right Person has not happened along;" he observed. - -"Perhaps," I said, in a signifacant tone. "Or perhaps he does not -know he is the right Person." - -William, of whom more anon, was passing the ice cream just then. I -refused it, saying: - -"Not in war time." - -"Barbara," mother said, stiffly. "Don't be a silly. Eat your desert." - -As I do not like seens I then took a little, but no cake. - -During dinner Leila made an observation which has somewhat changed -my opinion of Carter Brooks. She said his mother did not want him -to enlist which was why he had not. She has no other sons and -probably never will have, being a widow. - -I have now come to William. - -Lucy Gray had been on Secret Service that day, but did the -observing from the windows of their house, as my Familey was at -home and liable to poke into my room at any moment. - -William had made it up with the cook, Lucy said, and had showed her -a game of Solitaire in the morning by the kitchin window. He had -then fallen asleep in the pantrey, the window being up. In the -afternoon, luncheon being over and the Familey out in the car for -a ride, he had gone out into the yard behind the house and -pretended to look to see if the crocuses were all gone. But soon he -went into the Garage and was there a half hour. - -Now it is one of the rules of this Familey that no house servants -go to the Garage, owing to taking up the Chauffeur's time when he -should be oiling up, etcetera. Also owing to one Butler stealing -the Chauffeur's fur coat and never being seen again. - -But alas, what am I to do? For although I reported this being in -the Garage to mother, she but said: - -"Don't worry me about him, Bab. He is hopelessly inefficient. But -there are no Men Servants to be had and we'll have to get along." - - -1 A. M. I have been on watch all evening, but everything is quiet. - -I must now go to bed, as the Manual says, page 166: - -"Retire early and get a good night's rest." - - -APRIL 16TH. In camp. Luncheon of sardines, pickels, and eclairs as -no one likes to cook, owing to smoke in the eyes, etcetera. - -Camp convened at 12 noon, as we spent the morning helping to get -members of the Other Sex to enlist. We pinned a pink Carnation on each -Enlister, and had to send for more several times. We had quite a Crowd -there and it was very polite except one, who said he would enlist -twice for one kiss. The Officer however took him by the ear and said -the Army did not wish such as he. He then through (threw?) him out. - -This morning I warned the new Chauffeur, feeling that if he had by -chance any Milatary Secrets in the Garage he should know about William. - -"William!" he said, looking up from where he was in the Repair Pit -at the time. "WILLIAM!" - -"I am sorry, Henry," I said, in a quiet voice. "But I fear that -William is not what he apears to be." - -"I think you must be mistaken, miss." He then hamered for some -time. When he was through he climbed out and said: "There's to much -Spy talk going on, to my thinking, miss. And anyhow, what would a -Spy be after in this house?" - -"Well," I observed, in an indignant manner, for I am sensative and -hate to have my word doubted, "as my father is in a business which -is now War Secrets and nothing else, I can understand, if you can't." - -He then turned on the engine and made a terrable noise, to see if -hitting on all cylinders. When he shut it off I told him about -William spending a half hour in the Garage the day before. Although -calm before he now became white with anger and said: - -"Just let me catch him sneaking around here, and I'll--what's he -after me for anyhow? I haven't got any Milatary Secrets." - -I then sugested that we work together, as I felt sure William was -after my father's blue prints and so on, which were in the Dispach -Case in the safe at night. He said he was not a Spy-catcher, but if -I caught William at any nonsense I might let him know, and if he -put a padlock on the outside of his door and mother saw it and -raised a fuss, I could stand up for him. - -I agreed to do so. - - -10 P. M. Doctor Connor called this evening, to bring Sis a pattern -for a Surgicle Dressing. They spent to hours in the Library looking -at it. Mother is rather upset, as she thinks a Doctor makes a poor -husband, having to be out at night and never able to go to Dinners -owing to baby cases and so on. - -She said this to father, but I heard her and observed: - -"Mother, is a doctor then to have no Familey life, and only to -bring into the world other people's children?" - -She would usualy have replied to me, but she merely sighed, as she -is not like herself, being worried about father. - -She beleives that my Father's Life is in danger, as although usualy -making steel, which does not explode and is therfore a safe -business, he is now making shells, and every time it has thundered -this week she has ohserved: - -"The mill!" - -She refuses to be placated, although knowing that only those known -to the foremen can enter, as well as having a medal with a number -on it, and at night a Password which is new every night. - -I know this, because we have this evening made up a list of -Passwords for the next week, using a magazine to get them out of, -and taking advertisements, such as Cocoa, Razers, Suspenders and so -on. Not these actualy but others like them. - -We then learned them off by heart and burned the paper, as one -cannot be to carefull with a Spy in the house, even if not credited -as such by my Parents. - -Have forgotten the Emblem. Must take it in. - - -APRIL 17TH. In camp. - -Henry brought me out in the big car, as mine has a broken spring -owing to going across the field with it. - -He says he has decided to help me, and that I need not watch the -safe, etcetera, at night. I therfore gave him a key to the side -door, and now feel much better. He also said not to have any of the -Corps detailed to watch William in the daytime, as he can do so, -because the Familey is now spending all day at the Red Cross. - -He thinks the Password idea fine, as otherwise almost anybody could -steal a medal and get into the mill. - -William seems to know that I know something, and this morning, -while opening the door for me, he said: - -"I beg pardon, Miss Bab, but I see Henry is driving you today." - -"It is not hard to see," I replied, in a hauty manner. It is not -the Butler's business who is driving me, and anyhow I had no -intention of any unecessary conversation with a Spy. - -"Your own car being out of order, miss?" - -"It is," I retorted. "As you will probably be going to the Garage, -although against orders, while Henry is out, you can see it yourself." - -I then went out and sat in front in order to converce with Henry, -as the back is lonely. I looked up at the door and William was -standing there, with a very queer look on his face. - - -3 P. M. Mr. Schmidt is late and the Corps is practising, having now -got to K. - -Luncheon was a great surprize, as at 12:45 a car apeared on the sky -line and was reported by our Sentry as aproaching rapidly. - -When it came near it was seen to be driven by Carter Brooks, and to -contain several baskets, etcetera. He then dismounted and saluted -and said: - -"The Commiseriat has sent me forward with the day's rations, sir." - -"Very good," I returned, in an official manner. "Corps will line up -and count. Odd numbers to unpack and evens to set the table." - -This of course was figurative, as we have no table, but eat upon -the ground. - -He then carried over the baskets and a freezer of ice cream. He had -brought a fruit salid, cold chicken, potatoe Chips, cake and -ice-cream. It was a delightful Repast, and not soon to be forgotten -by the Corps. - -Mademoiselle got out of the Adams's car and came over, although she -had her own lunch as usual. She then had the Chauffeur carry over -a seat cushion, and to see her one would beleive she was always -pleasant. I have no use for those who are only pleasant in the -presence of Food or Strangers. - -Carter Brooks sat beside me, and observed: - -"You see, Bab, although a Slacker myself, I cannot bear that such -brave spirits as those of the Girls' Aviation Corps should go hungry." - -I then gave him a talking-to, saying that he had been a great -disapointment, as I thought one should rise to the Country's Call -and not wait until actualy needed, even when an only son. - -He made no defence, but said in a serious tone: - -"You see, it's like this. I am not sure of myself, Bab. I don't -want to enlist because others of the Male Sex, as you would say, -are enlisting and I'm ashamed not to. And I don't want to enlist -just to wear a Unaform and get away from business. I don't take it -as lightly as all that." - -"Have you no Patriotism?" I demanded. "Can you repeat unmoved the -celabrated lines: - - - "Lives there a man with Soul so dead, - He (or who) never to himself hath said: - This is my own, my Native Land." - - -I then choked up, although being Captain I felt that tears were a -femanine weakness and a bad Example. - -Mademoiselle had at that moment felt an ant somewhere and was not -looking. Therfore she did not perceive when he reached over and put -his hand on my foot, which happened to be nearest to him. He then -pated my foot, and said: - -"What a nice kid you are!" - -It is strange, now that he and the baskets, etcetera, have gone -away, that I continue to think about his pating my foot. Because I -have known him for years, and he is nothing to me but a good friend -and not sentamental in any way. - -I feel this way. Suppose he enlists and goes away to die for his -Country, as a result of my Speach. Can I endure to think of it? No. -I did not feel this way about Tom Gray, who has gone to Florida to -learn to fly, although at one time thinking the Sun rose and set on -him. It is very queer. - -The Sentry reports Mr. Schmidt and the dogs coming over the fense. - - -EVENING. Doctor Connor is here again. He is taking Sis to a meeting -where he is to make a Speach. I ofered to go along, but they did -not apear to hear me, and perhaps it is as well, for I must watch -William, as Henry is taking them in the car. I am therfore writing -on the stairs, as I can then hear him washing Silver in the pantrey. - -Mother has been very sweet to me this evening. I cannot record how -I feel about the change. I used to feel that she loved me when she -had time to do so, but that she had not much time, being busy with -Bridge, Dinners, taking Leila out and Housekeeping, and so on. But -now she has more time. Tonight she said: - -"Bab, suppose we have a little talk. I have been thinking all day -what I would do if you were a boy, and took it into that Patriotic -head of yours to enlist. I couldn't bear it, that's all." - -I was moved to tears by this afection on the part of my dear -Parent, but I remembered being Captain of the Corps, and so did not -weep. She then said that she would buy us an Emblem for the Camp, -and have a luncheon packed each day. She also ofered me a wrist watch. - -I cannot but think what changes War can make, bringing people -together because of worry and danger, and causing gifts, such as -flags and watches, and ofering to come out and see us in a day or so. - -It is now 9 P. M. and the mention of the flag has reminded me that -our own Emblem still fluters beneath the Starry Sky. - - -LATER: William is now in the Garage. I am watching from the window -of the sowing room. - -The terrable thought comes--has he a wireless concealed there, by -which he sends out clandestine messages, perhaps to Germany? - -This I know. He cannot get into Henry's room, as the padlock is now on. - - -LATER: He has returned, foiled! - - -APRIL 18TH. Nothing new. Working hard at signaling. Mr. Schmidt -says I am doing well and if he was an Officer he would give me a job. - - -APRIL 19TH. Nothing new. But Doctor Connor had told Leila that my -father looks sick or at least not well. When I went to him, being -frightened, as he is my only Male Parent and very dear to me, he -only laughed and said: - -"Nonsense! We're rushed at the Mill, that's all. You see, Bab, War -is more than Unaforms and saluting. It is a nasty Business. And of -course, between your forgetting The Emblem until midnight, when I -am in my first sleep, and putting it out at Dawn, I am not getting -all the rest I really need." - -He then took my hand and said: - -"Bab, you haven't by any chance been in my Dispach Case for -anything, have you?" - -"Why? Is something missing?" I said in I startled tone. - -"No. But sometimes I think--however, never mind about that. I think -I'll take the Case upstairs and lock my door hereafter, and if the -Emblem is an hour or to late, we will have to stand for it. Eight -o'clock is early enough for any Flag, especialy if it has been out -late the night before." - -"Father" I said, in a tence voice. "I have before this warned you, -but you would not listen, considering me imature and not knowing a -Spy when I see one." - -I then told him what I knew about William, but he only said: - -"Well, the only thing that matters is the Password, and that cannot -be stolen. As for William, I have had his record looked up by the -Police, and it is fine. Now go to bed, and send in the Spy. I want -a Scotch and Soda." - - -APRIL 20TH. Henry and I have searched the Garage, but there is no -Wireless, unless in a Chimney. Henry says this is often done, by -Spies, who raise a Mast out of the chimney by night. - -To night I shall watch the Chimney, as there is an ark light near -it, so that it is as bright as Day. - -The cook has given notice, as she and William cannot get along, and as -he can only make to salids and those not cared for by the other servants. - - -APRIL 27TH. After eight days I am at last alowed this Log or -Journal, being supported with pillows while writing as Doctor -Connor says it will not hurt me. - -He has just gone, and I am sure kissed Leila in the hall while -Hannah and the nurse were getting pen, ink, etcetera. Perhaps after -all Romanse has at last come to my beloved sister, who will now get -married. If so, I can come out in November, which is the best time, -as December is busy with Xmas and so on. - -How shall I tell the tradgic story of that night? How can I put, by -means of a pen, my Experiences on paper? There are some things -which may not be written, but only felt, and that mostly -afterwards, as during the time one is to excited to feel. - -On April 21st, Saturday, I had a bad cold and was not allowed to go -to camp. I therfore slept most of the day, being one to sleep -easily in daytime, except for Hannah coming in to feel if I was feverish. - -My father did not come home to dinner, and later on telephoned that -he was not to be looked for until he arived, owing to somthing very -important at the Mill and a night shift going on for the first time. - -We ate Dinner without him, and mother was very nervous and kept -saying that with foremen and so on she did not see why father -should have to kill himself. - -Ye gods! Had we but realised the Signifacance of that remark! But -we did not, but went to living in a Fool's Paradice, and complaining -because William had put to much vinigar in the French Dressing. - -William locked up the house and we retired to our Chambers. But as -I had slept most of the day I could not compose myself to Slumber, -but sat up in my robe de nuit and reflected about Carter Brooks, -and that perhaps it would be better for him not to enlist as there -is plenty to be done here at home, where one is safe from bullets, -machine guns and so on. Because, although not Sentamental about him -or silly in any way, I felt that he should not wish to go into -danger if his mother objected. And after all one must consider -mothers and other Parents. - -I put a dressing gown over my ROBE DE NUIT, and having then -remembered about the Wireless, I put out my light and sat in the -window seat. But there was no Mast to be seen, and nothing but the -ark light swinging. - -I then saw some one come in the drive and go back to the Garage, -but as Henry has a friend who has been out of work and sleeps with -him, although not told to the Familey, as probably -objecting,--although why I could not see, since he used half of -Henry's bed and therfore cost nothing--I considered that it was he. - -It was not, however, as I shall now record in this Log or Journal. - -I had perhaps gone to sleep in my place of watching, when I heard -a rapping at my Chamber door. "Only this and nothing more." -Poe--The Raven. - -I at once opened the door, and it was the cook. She said that Henry -had returned from the mill with a pain in his ear, and had -telephoned to her by the house 'phone to bring over a hot water -bottle, as father was driving himself home when ready. - -She then said that if I would go over with her to the Garage and -drop some laudinum into his ear, she being to nervous, and also -taking my hot water bottle, she would be grateful. - -Although not fond of her, owing to her giving notice and also being -very fussy about cake taken from the pantrey, I am one to go always -where needed. I also felt that a member of the Corps should not -shirk Duty, even a Chauffeur's ear. I therfore got my hot water -bottle and some slippers, etcetera, and we went to the Garage. - -I went up the stairs to Henry's room, but what was my surprize to -find him not there, but only his friend. I then said: - -"Where is Henry?" - -The cook was behind me, and she said: - -"He is coming. He has to walk around because it aches so." - -Then Henry's friend said, in a queer voice: - -"Now, Miss Bab, there is nothing to be afraid of, unless you make -a noise. If you do there will be trouble and that at once. We three -are going to have a little talk." - -Ye gods! I tremble even to remember his words, for he said: - -"What we want is simple enough. We want tonight's Password at the -Mill. DON'T SCREAM." - -I dropped the hot water bottle, because there is no use pretending -one is not scared at such a time. One is. But of course I would not -tell them the Password, and the cook said: - -"Be careful, Miss Bab. We are not playing. We are in terrable ernest." - -She did not sound like a cook at all, and she looked diferent, -being very white and with to red spots on her cheeks. - -"So am I," I responded, although with shaking teeth. "And just wait -until the Police hear of this and see what happens. You will all be -arested. If I scream----" - -"If you scream," said Henry's friend in an awful voice, "you will -never scream again." - -There was now a loud report from below, which the neighbors -afterwards said they heard, but considered gas in a muffler, which -happens often and sounds like a shot. There was then a sort of low growl -and somebody fell with a thump. Then the cook said to Henry's friend: - -"Jump out of the window. They've got him!" - -But he did not jump, but listened, and we then heard Henry saying: - -"Come down here, quick." - -Henry's friend then went downstairs very rapidly, and I ran to the -window thinking to jump out. But it was closed and locked, and -anyhow the cook caught me and said, in a hissing manner: - -"None of that, you little fool." - -I had never been so spoken to, especially by a cook, and it made me -very angry. I then threw the bottle of laudinum at her, and broke -a front tooth, also cutting her lip, although I did not know this -until later, as I then fainted. - -When I came to I was on the floor and William, whom I had -considered a Spy, was on the bed with his hands and feet tied. -Henry was standing by the door, with a revolver, and he said: - -"I'm sorry, Miss Bab, because you are all right and have helped me -a lot, especially with that on the bed. If it hadn't been for you -our Goose would have been cooked." - -He then picked me up and put me in a chair, and looked at his watch. - -"Now," he said, "we'll have that Password, because time is going -and there are things to be done, quite a few of them." - -I could see William then, and I saw his eyes were partly shut, and -that he had been shot, because of blood, etcetera. I was about to -faint again, as the sight of blood makes me sick at the stomache, -but Henry held a bottle of amonia under my nose and said in a -brutal way: - -"Here, none of that." - -I then said that I would not tell the Password, although killed for -it, and he said if I kept up that attitude I would be, because they -were desperate and would stop at nothing. - -"There is no use being stubborn," he said, "because we are going to -get that Password, and the right one to, because if the wrong one -you, to, will be finished off in short order." - -As I was now desperate myself I decided to shriek, happen what may. -But I had merely opened my mouth to when he sprang at me and put -his hand over my mouth. He then said he would be obliged to gag me, -and that when I made up my mind to tell the Password, if I would -nod my Head he would then remove the gag. As I grew pale at these -words he threw up a window, because air prevents fainting. - -He then tied a towel around my mouth and lips, putting part of it -between my teeth, and tied it in a hard knot behind. He also tied -my hands behind me, although I kicked as hard as possable, and can -do so very well, owing to skating and so on. - -How awfull were my sensations as I thus sat facing Death, and -remembering that I had often been excused from Chapel when not -necesary, and had been confirmed while pretending to know the Creed -while not doing so. Also not always going to Sunday School as I -should, and being inclined to skip my Prayers when very tired. - -We sat there for a long time, which seemed Eternities, Henry making -dreadful threats, and holding a revolver. But I would not tell the -Password, and at last he went out, locking the door behind him, to -consult with the other Spies. - -I then heard a whisper, and saw that William was not dead. He said: - -"Here, quick. I'll unloose your hands and you can drop out the window." - -He did so, but just in time, as Henry returned, looking fierce and -saying that I had but fifteen minutes more. I was again in my -chair, and he did not percieve that my hands were now untied. - -I must stop here, as my hands tremble to much to hold my trusty pen. - - -APRIL 28TH. Leila has just been in. She kissed me in a fraternal -manner, and I then saw that she wore an engagement ring. Well, such -is Life. We only get realy acquainted with our Families when they -die, or get married. - -Doctor Connor came in a moment later and kissed me to, calling me -his brave little Sister. - -How pleasant it is to lie thus, having wine jelatine and squab and -so on, and wearing a wrist watch with twenty-seven diamonds, and -mother using the vibrator on my back to make me sleepy, etcetera. -Also, to know that when one's father returns he will say: - -"Well, how is the Patriot today?" and not smile while saying it. - -I have recorded in this journal up to where I had got my hands -loose, and Henry was going to shoot me in fifteen minutes. - -We have thus come to Mr. Schmidt. - -Suddenly Henry swore in an angry manner. This was because my father -had brought the machine home and was but then coming along the -drive. Had he come alone it would have been the end of him and the -Mill, for Henry and his friend would have caught him, and my father -is like me--he would die before giving the Password and blowing up -all the men and so on in the Mill. But he brought the manager with -him, as he lives out of town and there is no train after midnight. - -My father said: - -"Henry!" - -So Henry replied: - -"Coming, sir" and went out, but again locked the door. - -Before he went out he said: - -"Now mind, any noise up here and we will finish you and your father -also. DON'T YOU OVERTURN A CHAIR BY MISTAKE, YOUNG LADY." - -He then went down, and I could hear my dear Parent's voice which I -felt I would probably never hear again, discussing new tires and -Henry's earache, which was not a real one, as I now knew. - -I looked at William, but he had his eyes shut and I saw he was now -realy unconscious. I then however heard a waggon in our alley, and -I went to the window. What was my joy to see that it was Mr. -Schmidt's milk waggon which had stopped under the ark light, with -he himself on the seat. He was getting some milk bottles out, and -I suppose he heard the talking in our Garage, for he stopped and -then looked up. Then he dropped a milk bottle, but he stood still -and stared. - -With what anguished eyes, dear Log or Journal, did I look down at -him, unable to speak or utter a sound. I then tried to untie the -Towle but could not, owing to feeling weak and sick and the knots -being hard. - -I at one moment thought of jumping out, but it was to far for our -Garage was once a Stable and is high. But I knew that if the -Criminals who surounded my Father and the manager heard such a -sound, they would then attack my Father and kill him. - -I was but a moment thinking all this, as my mind is one to work -fast when in Danger. Mr. Schmidt was still staring, and the horse -was moving on to the next house, as Mr. Schmidt says it knows all -his Customers and could go out alone if necesary. - -It was then that I remembered that, although I could not speak, I could -signal him, although having no flags. I therfore signaled, saying: - -"Quiet. Spies. Bring police." - -It was as well that he did not wait for the last to letters, as I -could not remember C, being excited and worried at the time. But I -saw him get into his waggon and drive away very fast, which no one -in the Garage noticed, as milk waggons were not objects of suspicion. - -How strange it was to sit down again as if I had not moved, as per -orders, and hear my Father whistling as he went to the house. I -began to feel very sick at my Stomache, although glad he was safe, -and wondered what they would do without me. Because I had now seen -that, although insisting that I was still a child, I was as dear to -them as Leila, though in a different way. - -I had not cried as yet, but at the thought of Henry's friend and -the others coming up to kill me before Mr. Schmidt could get help, -I shed a few tears. - -They all came back as soon as my Father had slamed the house door, -and if they had been feirce before they were awfull then, the cook -with a handkerchief to her mouth, and Henry's friend getting out a -watch and giving me five minutes. He had counted three minutes and -was holding his Revolver to just behind my ear, when I heard the -milk waggon coming back, with the horse galloping. - -It stopped in the alley, and the cook said, in a dreadfull voice: - -"What's that?" - -She dashed to the Window, and looked out, and then turned to the -other Spies and said: - -"The Police!" - -I do not know what happened next, as I fainted again, having been -under a strain for some time. - -I must now stop, as mother has brought the Vibrater. - - -APRIL 29TH. All the people in my father's Mill have gone together -and brought me a riding horse. I have just been to the window of my -Chamber to look at it. I have always wanted a horse, but I cannot -see that I deserve this one, having but done what any member of the -G. A. C. should do. - -As I now have a horse, perhaps the Corps should become Cavalry. -Memo: Take this up with Jane. - - -LATER: Carter Brooks has just gone, and I have a terrable headache -owing to weeping, which always makes my head ache. - -He has gone to the War. - -I cannot write more. - - -10 P. M. I can now think better, although still weeping at -intervals. I must write down all that has happened, as I do not -feel like telling Jane, or indeed anybody. - -Always before I have had no Secrets from Jane, even in matters of -the Other Sex. But I feel very strange about this and like thinking -about it rather than putting it into speach. - -Also I feel very kind toward everybody, and wish that I had been a -better girl in many ways. I have tried to be good, and have never -smoked cigarettes or been decietful except when forced to be by the -Familey not understanding. But I know I am far from being what -Carter Brooks thinks me to be. - -I have called Hannah and given her my old watch, with money to for -a new chrystal. Also stood by at Salute while my father brought in -the Emblem. For William can no longer do it, as he was not really -a Butler at all but a Secret Service Inspector, and also being -still in the Hospital, although improving. - -He had not told the Familey, as he was afraid they would not then -treat him as a real Butler. As for the code in the pantrey, it was -really not such, but the silver list, beginning with 48 D. K. or -dinner knives, etcetera. When taking my Father's Dispach Case from -the safe, it was to keep the real Spies from getting it. He did it -every night, and took the important papers out until morning, when -he put them back. - -To-night my father brought in the Emblem and folded it. He then said: - -"Well, I admit that Fathers are not real Substatutes for young men -in Unaform, but in times of Grief they may be mighty handy to tie -to." He then put his arms around me and said: "You see, Bab, the -real part of War, for a woman--and you are that now, Bab, in spite -of your years--the real thing she has to do is not the fighting -part, although you are about as good a soldier as any I know. The -thing she has to do is to send some one she cares about, and then -sit back and wait." - -As he saw that I was agatated, he then kissed me and sugested that -we learn something more than the first verse of the National Hymn, -as he was tired of making his lips move and thus pretending to sing -when not actualy doing so. - -I shall now record about Carter Brooks coming today. I was in a -chair with pilows and so on, when Leila came in and kissed me, and -then said: - -"Bab, are you able to see a caller?" - -I said yes, if not the Police, as I had seen a great many and was -tired of telling about Henry and Henry's friend, etcetera. - -"Not the Police," she said. - -She then went out in the hall and said: - -"Come up. It's all right." - -I then saw a Soldier in the door, and could not beleive that it was -Carter Brooks, until he saluted and said: - -"Captain, I have come to report. Owing to the end of the Easter -Holadays the Girls' Aviation Corps----" - -I could no longer be silent. I cried: - -"Oh, Carter!" - -So he came into the room and turned round, saying: - -"Some soldier, eh?" - -Leila had gone out, and all at once I knew that my Patriotism was -not what I had thought it, for I could not bear to see him going to -War, especialy as his mother would be lonly without him. - -Although I have never considered myself weak, I now felt that I was -going to cry. I therfore said in a low voice to give me a -Handkercheif, and he gave me one of his. - -"Why, look here," he said, in an astounded manner, "you aren't -crying about ME, are you?" - -I said from behind his Handkercheif that I was not, except being -sorry for his mother and also for him on account of Leila. - -"Leila!" he said. "What about Leila?" - -"She is lost to you forever," I replied in a choking tone. "She is -betrothed to another." - -He became very angry at that, and observed: - -"Look here, Bab. One minute I think you are the cleverest Girl in -the World, and the next--you little stuped, do you still insist on -thinking that I am in love with Leila?" - -At that time I began to feel very queer, being week and at the same -time excited and getting red, the more so as he pulled the -Handkercheif from my eyes and commanded me: "Bab, look at me. Do I -LOOK as though I care for Leila?" - -I, however, could not look at him just then. Because I felt that I -could not endure to see the Unaform. - -"Don't you know why I hang around this House?" he said, in a very -savige manner. "Because if you don't everybody else does." - -Dear Log or Journal, I could but think of one thing, which was that -I was not yet out, but still what is called a Sub-Deb, and so he -was probably only joking, or perhaps merely playing with me. - -I said so, in a low tone, but he only gave a Groan and said: - -"I know you are not out and all the rest of it. Don't I lie awake -at night knowing it? And that's the reason I----" Here he stopped -and said: "Damm it" in a feirce voice. "Very well," he went on. "I -came to say Good-bye, and to ask you if you will write to me now -and then. Because I'm going to War half because the Country needs -me and the other half because I'm not going to disapoint a certain -young Person who has a way of expecting people to be better than -they are." - -He then very suddenly stood up and said: - -"I guess I'd better go. And don't you dare to cry, because if you -do there will be Trouble." - -But I could not help it, as he was going to War for my Native Land, -and might never come back. I therfore asked for his Handkercheif -again, but he did not listen. He only said: - -"You are crying, and I warned you." - -He then stooped over and put his hand under my Chin and said: - -"Good-bye, sweetheart." - -AND KISSED ME. - -He went out at once, slaming the door, and passed Leila in the -lower Hall without speaking to her. - - -APRIL 30TH. I now intend to close this Log or Journal, and write no -more in it. I am not going back to school, but am to get strong and -well again, and to help mother at the Red Cross. I wish to do this, -as it makes me feel usefull and keeps me from worrying. - -After all, I could not realy care for any one who would not rise to -the Country's Call. - - -MAY 3RD. I have just had a letter from Carter. It is mostly about -blisters on his feet and so on, and is not exactly a love letter. -But he ends with this, which I shall quote, and so end this Dairy: - - -"After all, Bab, perhaps we all needed this. I know I did. - -"I want to ask you something. Do you remember the time you wrote me -that you were BLITED and I sugested that we be blited together. How -about changing that a bit, and being PLITED. Because if I am not -cheered by something of the sort, my Patriotism is going to ooze -out of the blisters on my heels." - - -I have thought about this all day, and I have no right to ruin his -Career. I beleive that the Army should be encouraged as much as -possible. I have therefore sent him a small drawing, copied from -the Manual, like this - -{1" tall figure of a man holding semifore flags -- his right arm is -to the right and his left arm is up} - -Which means "Afirmative" - - -The end of Project Gutenberg etext of "Bab: a Sub-Deb" - - - diff --git a/old/babsu10.zip b/old/babsu10.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index dc6398c..0000000 --- a/old/babsu10.zip +++ /dev/null |